Story and Digitalis by Warrigal Mirriyuula

Mongrel and The Runt got sidetracked by a rabbit on their way to the hospital. It was on the open ground between Phillip and William Streets. The land there formed a shallow depression and there was an intermittent stream that ran through two entire town blocks. When it rained enough. These two large blocks, divided by Bank Street were infested with rabbits and there was always time for a good chase and the dogs always gave it their all. The supply of rabbits never seemed to diminish. Once one had disappeared another would appear.

This was what The Runt was made for, chasing down small animals, and his speed and agility really shone. Mongrel, by contrast, usually the more physically able, just looked slow and clumsy compared to The Runt who could turn in his own length in the blink of an eye and being small could even follow the rabbits down into the warren when it suited him. He often did and he was often successful, sharing his kill with Mongrel.

When The Runt caught a sudden flash of movement, even if it was right out on the limn of his vision, a switch got thrown in his dog brain, his body flushed with adrenalin and he took off after the movement like a bolt of lightning. It was The Runt’s way and he felt like the good times would never end when he was chasing down a prize.

It’d been The Runt that had cleared their nest at the ice works of all the rats that had been living there when they had moved in. He was a superb ratter and could go almost anywhere they’d go when trying to escape. He had a better nose and he had eyes that discerned the smallest movement in almost total dark but his real advantage was his dog brain and centuries of breeding. It was the best that Mongrel could do to herd the rabbits in a general direction while The Runt determined the target, separated it and went in for the kill.

Without breakfast at MacCafferty’s the dogs were hungry so it turned out well that The Runt, having disappeared down into the warren, finally appeared covered in dirt and blood from another entrance with a big buck in his small jaws. He offered the dead animal to Mongrel. The Runt’s muzzle and head showed that he’d had his breakfast somewhere down in the warren. Mongrel made short work of the buck and they set off again for the hospital.

Algernon was just finishing the breakfast the nursing aid had brought to him when Doc and Sister returned to the ward. They both looked happy. Doc was smiling openly while Sister had the look of a woman with a lot on her mind. She appeared to be smiling too but it was a little uncertain. They strode up the ward together and took a position, side by side, between Algernon and Harry’s beds. Algernon was becoming fascinated by these people. He kept quiet and slowly drank his juice while he watched this circus over the top of the glass.

“You two sorted it out then? Kissed and made up?” Harry chuckled, “Lovers again?” he added impishly.

Sister, realised she was standing quite close to Doctor Wardell.  She suddenly busied herself with a little pillow plumping and blanket straightening,

“You’re a wicked old man Henry MacCafferty and I’ll thank you to keep your wicked thoughts to yourself.” sternly implying that there might be consequences if he didn’t. “Whatever might Dotty say if she could hear you speaking like that?”

“Dotty? Dotty was a goer Sister.” Harry was on a roll. “She knew what love was and she didn’t waste a moment. You might look to her example Sister.” Harry giggled at being able to turn the tables.

Sister flushed again but was determined to stay the course this time. Doc Wardell thought now might be an opportune moment to chivalrously step in and save Sister from Harry’s determination to get one up on her.

“Now, now Harry, Sister’s got more important things to worry about than your mucky memories of Dotty.”

And as if on cue who should then come skittering into the ward than Mongrel and The Runt, slipping and sliding on the polished linoleum floor as they made their way to the end of the ward and the startled group of people.

Sister was appalled and screamed at the dogs to “Getout!” in a tone that probably raised the iron on the roof. The dogs slid to a stop. Harry thought this was perfect and he was so happy to see the dogs he just burst out laughing fit to bust. Doc Wardell had to laugh too but Sister was right, the dogs were filthy. All covered in dirt, it looked like they’d been in the wars. Both dog’s heads were covered in drying blood. My god, what had they been up to?

As soon as the Sister approached the dogs to shoo them out The Runt got all antsy and began to bark and yap at her, all the while backing off just far enough to be out of reach. While Doc and Sister’s attention was on The Runt Mongrel went over to Harry’s bed and got his front legs up on the bedding leaving filthy paw marks. He barked a happy “g’day” and old Harry grabbed him by the ears and gave his head a good shake and a scratch. “How are ya mate, ay?” Harry then noticed how filthy the dog was and how much of that filth was being transferred to him and the bedding. He pushed the dog back onto the floor, “Ya better get down mate or Sister’ll have our guts for garters.” Mongrel dropped his head to one side and gave Harry a quick “what next” look. He barked again and turned just as Sister had also turned and noticing the bigger dog was behind her, backed herself out of the only path the dog might take to comply with her continuing shouted commands to “Getout!”

By this time almost the entire nursing staff of the small hospital had turned up to see what the commotion was. Everybody had an idea as to how to wrangle the dogs out of the ward and back outside but the confusion and collisions that ensued as they all threw their plans into action just made it easier for the dogs to avoid being grabbed. For Mongrel this was great fun. He always loved playing avoidance at close quarters, leaping and feinting away at the last moment, all the while barking his silly head off. For The Runt it was business as usual; let them know what you think of them, don’t ever let them get a hand on you.

It was a hospital orderly who finally won the day by racing back to the kitchen and, taking a lamb chop in each hand, returned to the ward and instantly got the dogs attention. Both dogs licked their bloodied lips and compliantly followed the orderly out of the ward, through reception and onto the verandah, their eyes never leaving the chops. The orderly then threw the chops into the garden and the dogs jumped off the verandah to yaffle down the morsels.

Back inside was still chaos. Sister was demanding to know who had left the front doors open, while nominating one of the staff for cleaning duties and generally letting them all know that the only certainty here was that she was not responsible, that Doc should have been more help, that this was a hospital and that filthy dogs were simply not allowed at any time, ever. The staff jumped to it with some trepidation. An angered Sister was really something you didn’t want to court.

Harry was helped from his soiled bedding, the catheter hanging embarrassingly below and slightly gathering his dirtied gown; while he held the half full bottle of urine in his left hand, his right hand was attempting, blind, to close the gaping aperture at the back of the gown. Now it was Sister’s turn for a laugh. Harry looked so forlorn and unhappy; his knobbly little knees and slightly bowed white matchstick legs made him an almost perfect caricature of the discomforted hospital patient. Sister sat down on one of the unoccupied beds laughing. The staff let go a collective sigh of relief, quietly of course. They didn’t want to temp the fates where Sister was concerned.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” she said between chuckles, “but you just look so…, I don’t know but you do look it.” She took a small kerchief from her cuff and wiped the happy tears from her eyes. “I haven’t laughed like that in quite a while.” she said somewhat flushed, but for entirely different and good reasons this time.

If anyone had been looking at Doc Wardell while Sister was laughing they’d have seen a man actually falling in love, the very moment when everything turned over inside him, when his usually cool professional gaze transmuted to a softer, almost boyish yearning. He only half knew it himself but this was the moment for Doc. His Rubicon had been crossed and though it would still take a little time, the die of his future was cast.

But nobody looked. Nobody saw, least of all Alice MacGillicuddie. By the time Doc’s face filled anyone’s gaze it had reverted to form; open, honest, professional, with just a hint of a larrikin smile.

This is much better than Blue Hills, thought Algernon, and those dogs, I don’t understand it. That Sister is the only person in this town that I’ve ever seen have a bad word for them, and she was more put out that they were filthy in here than that they were just filthy strays. He’s a good looking dog though. Strong, smart, you can see how he’s gotten on. And he was the one got help when I’d’ve probably been happy to see him and his little mate dead…..”

It was all too difficult and his head was aching. The doctor and Sister had gone and Harry had said that since he was now spruced up he might go for a bit of a sticky beak, see if he could find a nurse to flirt with.

Algernon was alone. The breeze had been strengthening all day and it had begun to cloud over, the temperature was dropping. Mongrel had returned to the bench on the hospital veranda outside Algernon’s open window. Looking in through the flyscreen, he grizzled a little to let Algernon know he was there but Algernon was almost asleep.

He dreamt of owning a dog, a handsome dog that looked just like Mongrel, and in the dream he and his companion became lifelong friends and adventurers. It was completely “Boys Own Annual” of course, but Algernon, head injury notwithstanding, slept deeper and better than he had since coming to Molong. On the verandah outside Algernon’s window Mongrel lay on the bench while The Runt went mousing in the garden. Then it began to rain. The Runt joined Mongrel on the bench and insinuated himself under one of Mongrel’s back legs. The big dog woke up and then they both went back to sleep while the gentle rain fell into the afternoon.