Rex growled, ‘I’m going to get you, squirrel.’
The squirrel, unable to translate or even hear what the dog was saying had little interest – his acorn was all consuming. Wondering what the first one was looking at; another came to join him. Then another. Soon Rex had half a dozen squirrels looking through the window at him.
Albert awoke with a start, a sudden noise ripping him from a dream about a giant platter of roast beef he needed to eat to stop his boat made of Yorkshire pudding from sinking. That the strange dream evaporated was a blessing, but fear of the unknown gripped him as the loud noise rang out again.
This time, his eyes were open, and they were drawn to the source of the noise. ‘Rex!’
Startled by his human’s voice, Rex spun about on the spot. Or, at least, he tried to. Getting agitated and dancing around as the squirrels taunted him with their twitchy tails, he was now standing on the right-most of the curtains. Spinning his hefty body around to look at his human resulted in the curtain going tight. Pinned as it was now at both top and bottom, it created a barrier which Rex was fighting to go through. In his head, it just needed a little more force applied.
Albert, confused and disorientated, couldn’t quite work out what he was seeing. The curtains were moving about, and something looked to be trying to ram its way through one of them. In the darkness, with brief flashes of light coming around the curtain as it twitched, he heard the first ripping noise before he was able to add together the clues.
His shout of, ‘Rex, no!’ came at the exact moment Rex thrust off with his back legs. With his front legs pinning the curtain down, and his head barrelling forward, something had to give. With a rending sound of rawl plugs being yanked out of brick, the curtain pole above his head flew free of the wall.
Rex was momentarily triumphant as the pressure holding him back evaporated, but the heavy, lined curtain, complete with its pole, then dropped onto him, entombing him in more material than he could fight his way out of.
Muttering and swearing, with his cotton pyjamas skewwhiff, Albert flung himself out of bed to tackle the dog before he could do any more damage. ‘Rex, just hold on, boy. I’ll get you out. Just stop fighting!’
Getting down to the carpet to extricate the dog, who would not stop struggling and was beginning to panic inside his polyester coffin, Albert found himself swearing again when a knock came at his door.
‘Everything all right in there, Dad?’
‘Not exactly,’ he called back. Now that he was on the carpet, not the simplest process at his age, he had to get back up again. His back protested from the too-early-in-the-day demands placed upon it and his knees clicked multiple times as if being wound against a ratchet. The bundle of curtain continued to spasm and jerked as Rex fought for freedom, but Albert went for the door first, letting Gary in so he could help.
Gary was wearing sports gear and was covered in a sheen of sweat: he’d been out for a run. He had a set of wireless headphones sticking out of his ears, the right-most of which he’d popped out to be able to hear better.
Albert’s room was still gloomy because the day outside was still getting started, but there was enough light to see the curtain pole hanging from one mount and the dog bucking like a bronco under a swathe of material.
Gary’s eyes went wide at the sight, his father stepping out of the way to let him come in. ‘If you please, son.’
Gary said, ‘Righto,’ popping out his other earbud and placing both it and his phone on Albert’s bed. On his knees, Gary had Rex freed from his blanket of terror in seconds.
Rex popped out and spun around to see if the squirrels were still watching, trampling on the fallen curtain again to get back to them as they watched through the window with mild curiosity. Behind him the humans were wafting the air.
‘Wow!’ gasped Gary. ‘I guess he got a little panicked under the curtain and let something go. That is making my eyes water.’ Before Albert could do anything to stop him, Gary grabbed the catch for the sash window. ‘I’ll just let that air out for a moment.’ He threw the window upwards and open, causing the squirrels to scatter.
A younger version of Albert might have thrown himself forward into a dive to stop his dog whose back legs were already quivering as the muscles started to engage. He knew Rex was going to go, but he just couldn’t get there in time to stop him
Rex’s eyes were as wide as saucers! He’d never been this close to a squirrel. They were right there, darting along the thick branch a few feet in front of his nose. Something at the back of his head was telling him this was a bad idea, but he couldn’t help himself. As the squirrels scarpered, his legs drove him off the carpet and out through the open window.
Only when he sailed out into free air did he remember that the squirrels were in a tree thirty feet off the ground. His front paws landed on the branch, which was far narrower than his brain had been telling him and as his back feet landed behind him, he felt true fear for the first time in his life.
The squirrels were gone; he was never going to catch them he realised as terror gripped his whole body. Paralysed now, and balancing precariously on a branch, he could hear his human behind him.
Albert was just about as dumbfounded as he had ever been in his life. He’d
