Monty

A man meets his best friend.

 

MONTY

 

Jethro left his house at eight o’clock that morning and began his daily walk towards Barnsley Park. There were not many people around, as the weather was not congenial enough to leave cosy homes to face the freezing fog. The wrought iron park gates had just been opened, having been shut since seven o’clock the evening before. The fog began to disperse as Jethro directed his steps along the gravel pathway. On either side there were cypresses and other tall trees which on a sunny day would be a welcome shelter from the heat, but in the winter looked dark and sinister. He enjoyed the crunchy sound his rubber-soled ankle boots made on the gravel, which on that morning was the only clear sound that could be heard. The fog muffled the usual noises of traffic and people talking.

 The park keeper greeted him, “Good morning, Mr Cummings, not a very good morning, is it?”

Jethro smiled and said, “Good morning, Gavin. Never mind the fog, it’s only weather. It should be gone by midday.”

Jethro continued on his way down one pathway and then another till he arrived near a hothouse, which loomed out of the fog like a giant glass house. He made to climb the steps to the glass structure when he heard the sound of a dog whimpering. Jethro stopped and retraced a few of his steps. There was a huge cypress tree not far from the hothouse. He bent down and peered underneath. He just about made out the form of a tiny puppy that was shivering and whimpering. Jethro put a hand out and grabbed at the puppy and pulled it towards him. He wrapped it in his woollen scarf and put it inside his thick winter coat. He decided to go and see Gavin and find out whether he knew anything about the puppy’s origins. Gavin was sweeping up some leaves from the entrance when Jethro, holding the puppy close to him, met up with him.

“Gavin, look what I’ve found,” Jethro said, opening his coat to show the keeper the tiny puppy that was no longer whimpering. “Have you seen anyone with him in the park?”

Gavin went closer to Jethro, and looked down at the puppy, “No, Sir, I’ve never seen him. I think you’d better give him some water. Poor little thing, he must have been here all night.”

Gavin went inside his hut and called out to Jethro to enter. The hut was lovely and warm, and Gavin placed a bowl of water on the floor for the puppy to drink from. Both men gazed at the puppy as he drank. He was very young, and didn’t appear old enough to be out and about on his own. “He looks like a Springer Spaniel to me, Sir,” Gavin said to Jethro, who nodded in agreement.

“What’s a dog as good as this doing out in this weather? I think he must have been deliberately abandoned by whoever he had belonged to. It’s possible he went under the tree for shelter from the cold night air,” Jethro said in reply to Gavin. “Well, now he’s finished the water, I’m off to the vet’s to find out whether he knows anything about a missing Springer.”

“Let me know how you get on with the vet, Sir.”

“Yes, of course,” Jethro said, as he wrapped the puppy up in his scarf and replaced him inside his coat. The puppy, now feeling better, settled down and began to grunt as he went drowsy.

 

Jethro asked a couple walking their dog where the nearest vet’s was. Fortunately it was not at a great distance and he soon found himself outside the door that led into the vet’s surgery. Jethro rang the bell and a white coated young lady opened the door. “Good morning, Sir. Have you got an appointment?”

“Good morning. No, I haven’t. Is that a problem?” Jethro asked.

“There isn’t any problem this morning. There have been some cancellations due to the rather off-putting weather.”

The nurse receptionist went away and left Jethro and the puppy in the waiting room. Jethro looked down at the puppy and said to him, “You are a very nice little dog. I hope we can become friends.” Jethro was afraid that the vet might find something very wrong with the puppy, or that an owner was sadly missing him.

 

The door opened and the nurse said, “Time for you to go in.”

Jethro walked into the vet’s surgery, and said, “Good morning, I’m Jethro Cummings, and I found this puppy in the park not long ago. The park keeper gave him some water, which he lapped up with no problem at all.”

The vet placed the puppy on the examining table. Jethro asked him, “Is there any way he can be identified?”

“Yes, I’ll have a look to see if he has an identity chip in one of his ears, but I think it unlikely due to the way you found him.” The vet began examining the puppy and took his temperature and felt his stomach, he also went over his ears. “He seems to be in fine shape, even after spending the night out in the park. I suppose you have the intention of keeping him.”

Jethro, who lived a pretty solitary life, said, “Yes, I’ll keep him. Is he a Springer Spaniel?”

“As far as I can see, he is. That’s what’s so strange about his having been abandoned in the park. He is certainly too young to have got there by himself. I’ll take down your particulars and his too. Have you got a name for him?” The vet asked, as he sat in front of his computer ready to take down all the information to join Jethro and the puppy together.

“You don’t think someone might claim him, do you?”

“If he’s been abandoned it’s because nobody wants him, and won’t want him back. Now what do you want him known as?”

Jethro sat with the puppy on his lap and said without preamble, “Monty, it’s nice and easy.”

“Fine. Now, Monty, you have an owner and a name. The New Year has started out very well for you.”

Jethro stood up, and asked about where he could get the basic necessities for Monty.

 

During the first couple of months of Jethro and Monty getting acquainted, the puppy never stepped a paw outside the flat. The temperatures were far too low even for a hardy man like Jethro, who having found Monty didn’t want to lose him. Monty had an abundance of toys, blankets, bowls, and food. Jethro put Monty’s bed in his own room in case the puppy felt lonely at night. He bought a cat-tray where he could do his necessities without having to brave the cold weather. Jethro still went for a morning walk, and Gavin said that no one had ever asked about a Springer Spaniel.

 

Monty had the run of Jethro’s flat and was not too disturbed when his master had to leave him alone to go to the park or to go shopping. At those times, the puppy fell asleep wherever he felt like it. In the evenings the two friends sat on the sofa watching television or listening to music.

Jethro took to speaking to Monty as if he were a little boy. “Now Monty,” he would say, “What do you think about going to the country next weekend?” Monty would regale Jethro with an affectionate look from his deep brown eyes understanding every word.

One thing Jethro never forgot to do, was to brush Monty every morning. He got great pleasure from stroking the silky fur with the soft brush, especially Monty’s long dark brown ears.

 

Jethro was semi-retired, and as the weather improved, he and Monty began to go on short breaks to any hotel or bed-and- breakfast where dogs were welcome. Both of them loved the sea and walks along the beach, even when it wasn’t hot enough to sunbathe. Monty had great fun barking at the waves, and even more so when he got his paws wet. They weren’t the only master and dog on the beaches, and quite often both dogs and owners made friends. In coastal resorts there didn’t seem to be one pub that didn’t welcome dogs and owners. Jethro was rather on the shy side and Monty’s presence gave him a self assurance he never had when by himself.

 

The summer came and the happy pair spent more and more time outside. Gavin was a friend of theirs, and Monty who was beginning to develop his strong smelling instincts, had a special bark for Gavin.

As Monty was getting older and leaving his puppy time behind, he was turning into a very handsome dog. On one of their walks in another park Jethro saw a dog very similar to Monty on a lead which was held by a woman. “Shall we go and talk to them?” Jethro asked Monty.

Jethro walked up to the owner, and said, “Good afternoon. Your dog looks about the same age as Monty. Have you had her long?”

The woman, whose name was Stella Barnet, replied, “I got her last year and had her spayed. I’m not into having puppies.”

“What’s her name?”

“Her name is Ladybelle, but we call her Lady. Were you interested in mating your dog with her?”

“No, I wasn’t. Indeed, it hadn’t even crossed my mind,” Jethro said, feeling rather out of sorts.

“I’ve been approached by many owners of Springer males to mate her with their dogs. I had her spayed as I didn’t want to have problems with having to find owners for her puppies, if she had any. You never know what dogs might get up to when out in the park. You know, they run under trees and she might have got pregnant.”

Stella’s remark about trees reminded Jethro of how he and Monty had met. He wasn’t quite sure of how to find out whether Stella knew anything about a missing Springer Spaniel.

“Have you had or known of any such experiences of dogs running under trees?”

Stella thought for a moment, and then said, “I did hear of an incidence of a missing dog whose owner was found dead in her flat before Christmas. Didn’t you hear or read about it? It was in the local papers.”

Jethro swallowed, and said, “I really don’t remember anything much about anything as I was working, and trying to get through the bad weather as best I could. Would you tell me more about it?”

“All right, but I can’t stay out long as my husband will begin to worry. Do you know the large Victorian houses that have been turned into flats with all mod cons?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“They are in the square that gives onto Barnsley Park. Well, a young woman had moved into one of the basement flats with a puppy and a few weeks later she was found strangled. The puppy was never found. It’s supposed that it died or never existed, although some say she was seen with a puppy in a carrying basket.”

Jethro was all agog, “Who strangled her?”

“Her ex-boyfriend was convicted of the killing, and they think he got rid of the puppy too.”

Jethro picked up Monty and said, “We’d better be going home, we have a bit of a way to walk from here. It’s been a pleasure talking to you. I hope we meet again one day soon. Bye.”

Stella said, “I hope we meet again. Bye, Jethro. Bye, Monty. Say bye, Ladybelle.”

The two owners with their dogs parted company near the gate and went their separate ways.

 

Back home and after having dinner, Monty had a wash and sat down on the sofa. Jethro switched on the computer to see what he could find out about the dead girl and the puppy she was said to have had. The only information was that a girl called Carina Carstairs had been found dead, strangled in her basement flat after a noisy altercation with her ex-boyfriend. The neighbours said the row had been worse than loud, and some of them added that they had heard the sound of a puppy whimpering. The police reported that there had been no sign of a puppy in the flat when they were informed of the noise. They doubted if a puppy had ever existed. The ex-boyfriend was arrested and sent to trial, and it would be a long time before he would be walking the streets. He never mentioned the existence of a puppy, so that part of the story never went any further.

Jethro sat back in his chair and stared at Monty who was sleeping on his back on the sofa. He went over to him and said, “Monty, if you are the dead girl’s dog, it doesn’t matter to me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s that.”

 

Jethro thought it might not be a bad idea to take a walk in the streets near his flat. He noted down the address of the murdered girl and, leaving Monty alone at home playing with toys, went out. He walked to the first corner, turned left and then continued down to the next corner. The district, although situated in a fairly central part of the city, was empty of all but a few passers by. All the Victorian houses that had once housed families had been converted into flats for those who needed to live nearer their work places. Jethro stood on the opposite side of the road to where the murdered girl had lived and died. The flat was now occupied, that much was clear by the bins outside by the steps that led down to the front door. There were pale coloured curtains at the windows. Jethro, not wishing to attract attention, turned and walked to the park.

Gavin was tidying up the grass and asked, “Where’s Monty? Not ill is he?”

“No, he’s fine. Do you think a small puppy, as Monty was when I found him, could have walked from three blocks away and cross two streets without getting killed?”

Gavin said, “That’s still quite a distance, and why come here unless he knew this place?”

“It doesn’t make much sense, does it?” Jethro said, feeling the need to get back home and play with Monty.

“I’d better get home. You never know what a puppy might get up to when left on his own,” Jethro said, as a farewell to Gavin.

 

Jethro realised that Monty was playful, and thought it would be fun to teach him some tricks. He started Monty off with sit, stand, hold out one paw, and then the other, and finally to stay still even with biscuits in his mouth. The puppy, who was getting bigger by the day, got the hang of the tricks in a short while and both of them, Jethro and Monty, enjoyed practising them every evening. Monty taught himself tricks like fetching Jethro’s slippers or carrying the newspaper in his mouth.

Jethro had caught Monty trying to play with the television control. Jethro thought that were no limits as to what Monty was able to do.

Jethro was getting tired of the daily boredom of walking in the same parks and gardens with Monty. He didn’t like it for himself, and felt that for Monty it was also too predictable.

 

At times, Jethro wondered about Monty’s origins and if he had belonged to the dead girl, then how had he managed to get to the park. No one in the area had ever stopped him to inquire about where he had got Monty from.

 

Things came to a head about moving home, when one day out in the park an irate woman rushed up to Jethro and accused Monty of having made her French poodle pregnant. She said without preamble, “I know it’s your dog that’s got my Carly pregnant.”

 

Jethro looked down at Monty and remembered that he had taken him to the vet’s to be neutered and how he had apologised to him, “Sorry about this Monty, but it’s for your own good, although you will never believe it.”

Monty had sensed something was not quite right but trusted Jethro, and meekly went into the vet’s surgery with him. And now here was a hysterical woman accusing his friend of doing something that he couldn’t possibly do.

 

Jethro was annoyed at the woman’s wild accusations and said, as politely as he could muster at that moment, “Your poodle would be lucky. Poor little Monty. I had him neutered so as to avoid anything that you are accusing him of ever happening.”

Jethro and Monty walked away, with the sound of the woman’s voice reverberating in their ears, “Then who is the father of the puppies. It’s just not on. Someone somewhere has a dog that hasn’t been done.”

 

On their way back home, Jethro was speaking to Monty, “I think we’d better start looking for another place to live, and as far away as possible from here.”

For many weekends Jethro and Monty drove out to visit villages that were small but peaceful and where the dogs were freer than in the city. The biggest problem was finding a pretty house to buy, not only were they expensive but there weren’t many of them. But one very keen estate agent rang him to say that there was a property that might interest Jethro.

The house was a cottage, but without flowers growing round the front door. It was large enough for Jethro and Monty. There was a small garden in the front and a bigger one at the back with fruit trees. Jethro let Monty outside to find out whether or not the dog would like it. There was no doubt in Monty’s eyes, he ran round the garden and made for the trees and tried to climb up them. Jethro seeing Monty’s enthusiasm agreed to buy the cottage. On arriving back in the city Jethro put his flat up for sale, convinced it would be a quick sale, thanks to the area and because people were desperate for a flat in town.

 

One afternoon curiosity got the better of Jethro, and he went for a walk past the dead girl’s flat, and, just as before, he stayed on the opposite side of the road. He saw a young man with a West Highland Terrier coming down the steps that led down to the pavement. Jethro went up to the man, and said, “That’s a nice dog you’ve got there.”

The young man looked rather taken aback, but seeing how harmless Jethro appeared, answered, “I found him in the garden downstairs. I think he belonged to the girl who was murdered in the basement flat.”

“I remember that case,” said Jethro, “There was a rumour about a dog, but nobody said anything concrete about it.”

“Well maybe it wasn’t hers, but it’s strange it was here and nobody claimed it. Have to be off, he enjoys his walks in the park. Bye.”

“Goodbye. I hope you’re not offended about my speaking to you like that out of the blue.”

“No, it’s all right.”

Jethro watched the young man walk in the direction of Barnsley Park, and turned towards his flat where Monty was waiting for him.

 

 Moving day wasn’t as hectic as Jethro had feared. Monty wasn’t very happy seeing the removals men pack up his possessions and store them away in the back of the van.  He growled at seeing the only home he had known being emptied of everything he was familiar with. The men patted Monty on his head, but he wasn’t in the mood for such tactics. Jethro saw that his friend was rather perturbed, and told him not to worry. “Your stuff will be at our cottage before we are. Come on, let’s get to the station,”

Jethro had thought it might be a bit of an adventure for Monty to travel by train. Monty was too big to get inside a travelling bag, so he had to stay with Jethro in a first class compartment. Luckily for them it was empty, so they had no aggravation from anyone else. The journey was uneventful, and they arrived in the West Country early and easily.

Jethro had sold his small car before selling the flat, so caught a taxi to take them both to the cottage. He had the idea of buying a four-wheel-drive of some sort, not too big, but much more suitable for their new life.

 

The removals men were still taking things out of the van when Jethro and Monty turned up. Jethro paid the men, and closed the front door behind them.

“Come on Monty let’s see what you can find to do in the garden before it gets dark. I’ve got to unpack.”

Jethro opened the French windows that were in the living-room and gave onto the back garden. Monty, with barks of delight, rushed out into his own new territory. Jethro went into the hall and began to unpack. It was a long and tedious job, made worse because he was almost alone and was a man who apparently had few possessions, but when packed up appeared to have increased in number.

The sofa was now in its new place, opposite the fireplace. and Jethro saw that there were logs of wood piled up on one side. He wasn’t quite sure of how to light a fire, but somehow managed to. Monty entered his new home, and Jethro gave him his supper, then went into the kitchen, where he prepared something for himself. Monty, unused to so much fresh air, and with his stomach full, had stretched out on the rug in front of the log fire. Jethro sat down on the sofa and so, the two spent their first evening in their new house.

 

Jethro and Monty’s life in the village took a turn for the better when they began going to their local pub. One evening when they were in the pub, Monty stood up on his hind legs. The publican asked him what he wanted to drink and poured him some water into a bowl. The customers applauded Monty, and asked Jethro whether his dog knew any other tricks. When Jethro said that Monty knew some other tricks, he was persuaded to get Monty to perform. Jethro got Monty to go through his repertoire to the delight of everyone in the pub.

From that evening on, Jethro and Monty became fixtures in the village and they were invited to people’s homes. In a very short time, Jethro felt as if he had never lived anywhere else. It was at that time, Jethro thought it would be a good idea for Monty to have a playmate, and went looking for another Springer. He asked the local vet if he knew of a kennels or someone who had a Springer puppy for sale. It seemed that in that village Springer Spaniels were not easily come by.

Jethro went investigating in other areas, and eventually found on the internet a woman who bred said dogs and had twelve for sale. Jethro rang her up and made a date to go and see her. He left Monty with one of his new friends, as he was afraid of Monty causing a scandal.

The kennels were some way off the beaten track, and after going down various wrong country roads, Jethro finally got to his destination. He saw a very large white-washed house with out-buildings on the right as he went down the road towards it.

As he got out of his car a middle-aged woman came out of the house to greet him. “Good morning, I’m Tyra White. You must be Mr. Cummings. Please come with me and I’ll show you the puppies. Did you have much trouble getting here?”

“I’m Jethro Cummings, and, yes, I didn’t find the directions straightforward at all. I can’t remember how many wrong turning I made before finally finding your kennels. But now I’m here, may I see the puppies, please?”

Mrs White led him towards the outer buildings on the right. “The mother and puppies are in here for the time being, as it’s warmer, and they tend to make a bit of a mess. There are ten of them left.”

Jethro said, “I only want one. I already have a liver Springer, and he needs company. It’s not good for him to have just me.”

Mrs White opened the door onto a large room where a fully grown Springer was lying down and her puppies were all over her. They were all black and white. Jethro was unable to take his eyes off them.

“Is there any one you fancy?” Mrs White asked.

Jethro had never forgotten how he and Monty had met, and he felt the necessity for something similar to happen. He wanted the puppy to choose him, as Monty had done. One of the puppies came over to Jethro and stared at him and waddled round his legs. Jethro bent down and picked him up. He knew that he had found a friend for Monty. “I’ll take this one, if that’s all right with you.”

Mrs White said, “I wish everyone was as easy to please as you are. Most people have a vague idea and then on seeing the puppies become even vaguer. Let’s go into the office and I’ll give you the papers.”

“Say goodbye to your brothers and your mummy, you’re coming home to live with Monty and me,” Jethro whispered into the puppy’s ear.

Jethro had taken one of Monty’s old carrying baskets with him, and he wrapped Rory, as he called his new pet, up in a new blanket.

 

The look on Monty’s face when he saw Rory was indescribable. Jethro put the puppy down on the floor and Monty sniffed him all over and then gave him a lick of acceptance.

From their first night together Monty took charge of making Rory, the new puppy, feel at home. The two became the firmest of friends.

 

Jethro never thought that he was lonely or that he had a solitary life, with those two for company and entertainment. He never knew the precedence of Monty, but Jethro always felt he was more than just a dog, he was special, the one who had given his life some meaning.