The Tailless Dog

This tale takes place in a small peaceful town called Yatesburg. The townsfolk are all very proud of themselves, of their lifestyles, of their families. They’re quick to hold grudges on other families and won’t let go of them till they’re in their graves.

Most of the homes are small stone cottages, painted white with well-groomed gardens out front and back. The people of Yatesburg wear very plain clothing, most of it from the town market, but some of their most prized possessions are their very own family designed clothing, often a duty of the grandparents in their tight-knit society, to knit clothing for their families. They wear family crests on their sleeves and the materials they use often last them a lifetime before being passed down a couple of generations till eventually, they’re unwearable.

In the Loffe household, Bernie Loffe was cooking dinner. Her two children, Hilda and Bryce were out walking their family dog, Josie. Her husband was at his desk in the living room, scribing a study on Arbolean Mythology.

Bernie’s life was just as she’d imagined it, though there was little room for failure growing up in such a middle-class haven as Yatesburg, especially with the ongoing support of her loving wealthy parents, now nearing their mid-seventies. She was comfortable, and that’s all she’d ever wanted, comfort, to live her adult life how she saw her parents do it. She saw their lives as a template for her own, she knew exactly how they ended up and that was exactly how she wanted to end up.

Everything in her little bubble was perfect, just right, until the kids came back home.

“Mum!” yelled Hilda. Though Bernie noticed this wasn’t Hilda’s usual moaning, annoyed tone when something had gone minorly wrong in her life, this sounded like a genuine concern.

Bernie walked out of the kitchen into the hallway to see the kids with Josie, her head bowed, whimpering in pain.

“She got in a fight with another dog, and the dog bit her tail off!” exclaimed Bryce, the younger of the two girls.

Bernie walked over for an inspection of the one-quarter-tail, Josie's cream coloured fur now stained with blood across her heels and behind.

“Oh my”, said Bernie, not entirely sure how to react in front of the kids, “Whose dog was it?” she asked after a brief pause to stare at the wound.

“We don’t know them, they said they were really really sorry, and we just ran back here,” said Hilda.

“Did you not say anything back to them?” asked Bernie.

The girls shook their heads. Bernie looked back down at the dog and let out a sigh while deciding what to do.

There was a retired medic that lived two cottages down from the Loffe’s, Bernie took Josie to her to make sure the wounded tail wouldn’t get infected, the medic did her job and soon Josie’s pained whimpering had ceased, she returned to her normal state and Bernie could return to her state of comfortable peace that she’d lived in before.

From then on, she made sure that the kids didn’t walk the dog alone again, she’d lost some trust in them to keep Josie safe and whenever she was walking Josie, she’d steer away from other dogs, just in case. These were just small changes in her everyday life to ensure her idyllic lifestyle stayed stable.

Her new schedule of dog walking meant that she’d have to walk the dog with Hilda in the evenings three times a week and with Bryce in the mornings four times a week. Her usual trail consisted of a loop around the marshes, where Josie would often try her best to leap into any body of water she can see.

The sun glowed red over the horizon. Hilda had the dog leash in hand, pulling Josie away from the river they walked alongside. Bernie looked over at the sunset as they walked, it was a thing of beauty. It reminded her of an evening with her father where they saw the silhouettes of a group of wild horses grazing on a hill to the north. No words needed to be said, they’d just stood and appreciated the natural beauty in silence. Hilda wasn’t like Bernie, and Bernie could tell. Hilda didn’t want to grow up in the shadow of her parents, she seemed to want something different, a life away from Yatesburg, somewhere more brimming with life, yet Bernie imagined that once Hilda had that then she’d come running back to the countryside to escape the stress of life in the city.

“Is it true that the royal family can paralyse people with their minds?” asked Hilda out of the blue.

Bernie was taken aback by the question, it’s very rare that rumours of the royals ever make it into Yatesburg, the community is very closed off from the rest of Candara.

“I doubt it” answered Bernie with an uncertain tone.

“I heard someone say it in the tavern yesterday with dad”, responded Hilda curiously, “I was imagining if it was just a rumour, how would a rumour like that start… would someone just happen to be paralysed in their presence?”.

“It’s probably something like that, yeah”, said Bernie.

Hilda’s curiosity never failed to confuse Bernie, it makes her feel like she’s been numb her whole life, lacking in any curiosity as to what happens outside her social bubble. Bernie’s interest was piqued if her friend Sonja decided not to drink one night or if someone forgot to send her kids a birthday letter. Hilda was more interested in a larger picture, she was curious about the outside world, it made Bernie wonder if she’d ever had such a vivid imagination or if she’d always been so simple-minded.

She assured herself that she’s happy where she is, she’s comfortable, undisturbed, she doesn’t need the stress that comes with lacking her blissful ignorance.

That night the Loffe family had leek and potato soup for dinner, served with warm buttered toast for dipping. They sat around their polished wooden table discussing Bryce’s birthday party next week, who she’d want to come, what they’re going to do, etc.

Bryce wanted a small party with a few of her friends down at the green, where the town often throw events such as the yearly Yatesburg summer festival, a time for all the families to gather and dance around the elder tree, the oldest tree in town that can be seen from all over Yatesburg.

Bryce’s birthday came along, and they had a picnic on the green under the shade of the elder tree, there were few people out and about in Yatesburg, often someone would walk by on the green but there was no other group sat on it. Bryce was joined by four of her close friends from town, their parents had shown up also. Bernie was sat with a couple of the mothers, overlooking the picnic while chatting. Josie was laying at Bernie’s side, tired from her morning walk with Hilda and Mr Loffe.

Hilda was sat with the parents, though not talking to them, she was awkwardly in-between the two age groups at the picnic and didn’t feel comfortable socialising in either so instead she just stared off into space and played with the grass beneath her.

After a while of laying still, Josie perked up and started to sniff, she looked around the green briefly before sprinting off. Bernie and Hilda watched hesitantly.

“Oop, there she goes”, said one of the mothers with Bernie.

“She must’ve smelt a rabbit”, commented another.

The dog was sprinting at full speed across the green till she ran through some bushes onto the next field. Hilda looked up at her Mum questioningly. Bernie let out an ear-piercing whistle trying to call Josie back, she then waited, Josie was nowhere to be seen.

“Go and see where she went”, Bernie said to Hilda.

Hilda didn’t have to be told twice, she’d already grown tiresomely bored of the picnic, she arose to her feet and started to run towards the bushes where she’d last seen Josie, calling out the dog’s name as she does so.

She arrived at the bushes at the edge of the green, there was no dog to be seen, she glanced back at her mother who was giving her a concerned look from under the elder tree. Hilda climbed through a small hole at the bottom of the bush, still calling out for Josie, now in a higher and more comforting tone. Through the bush and out the other side, but there was still no sign of the dog. The field on the other side was full of barley, yet it had only recently been sown so Hilda should still be able to see the dog, but there was nothing. She stopped calling the dogs name and started to take deep breaths, trying to calm herself down while her eyes scoured the landscape.

The Loffe family spent the whole evening searching for Josie, with the help of some of the other families from Bryce’s party. Every dog in Yatesburg was of the same two breeds, some mixed between the breeds but most of the town preferred the purebred dogs. Josie was a purebred Skyke, a medium-sized fluffy dog that generally had blond fur. The only way to tell Josie apart from the other Skyke’s was her quarter-length tail. Bernie was almost grateful that she’d had it bitten off, making it easier for her to be identified.

For months the family would go on regular searches for the dog but there was no sign of her anywhere. After around four months, the family gave up, one by one they dropped out of the dog search parties, they slowly took down the missing posters, so they didn’t have constant reminders around town and they went back to their normal routine, excluding the dog walks.

Bernie considered getting a new dog, but there was still a sparkle of hope deep inside her that Josie would come running back home and they’d be reunited. Her life would be back to its comfortable and formatted routine and she could relax once again.

Months passed of filling the void of the dog walks by sitting outside and waiting for the sound of Josie’s bark. Bernie had never realised how attached she’d become to the dog, she wasn’t keen on her at first, but she had grown on her, her unfailing innocence had captured Bernie’s love and attention as if she were another child, another welcomed responsibility.

Bernie had started to bite her nails again, something she’d not done since childhood, she juiced a lemon slice over them to stop herself and her body would find another way to fidget out her stress, her leg would jog up and down when she was seated, she’d adjust her hair more than necessary, she’d twizzle random inanimate objects between her fingers. Mr Loffe started to find it annoying so eventually, she decided to go for walks to fill her time, she would return to her usual slots of dog walking, three evenings and four mornings, she’d take the kids as well, to make sure they were getting out enough.

Every Skyke reminded her of Josie, but she didn’t feel pain over it anymore, instead, there was a tinge of nostalgia. Until one evening while out walking with Hilda, they passed another family walking their dog, a mother and son, the son gave Hilda a weird look. And Bernie glanced at their dog as it sniffed up at her as they passed by. It was a Skyke, the same colour as Josie, and its tail was short, a quarter of the length it should’ve been. It was a bit larger than Josie, probably the size Josie would’ve been right now. The similarities were uncanny, Bernie’s mind raced, and a red fury came over her, she turned to the dog walkers after passing them, the red sunset cast a warm glow over her infuriated face.

“Hey!” Bernie yapped, “Where’d you get that dog?!”

The Woman and Boy turned around confused. The dog stopped and started to sniff the mud below its paws.

“Sorry?”, said the Woman.

“That’s- That is- That’s our dog, that’s Josie. Come here Josie”, pleaded Bernie, her tone starting to shake slightly.

“Mum”, murmured Hilda, starting to feel embarrassed.

“Josie, come here, come on”, Bernie called relentlessly.

The dog didn’t move, it seemed rather fond of the soil below.

“This isn’t Josie, this is Flo, she’s our dog”, said the boy in an offended tone.

“She’s got the short tail, she’s Josie, she got her tail bit off”, argued Bernie.

“Mum please, let’s just go” pleaded Hilda.

“Flo got her tail cut off, while we were at home one day, a couple months ago, I’m sorry but this isn’t your dog”, the woman responded, trying to keep Bernie as calm as she could.

“Who would cut a dog’s tail off?”, Bernie asked.

“Well, we thought the same thing, but apparently- Well Joe was walking her, one day and apparently Flo bit some other kid’s dog’s tail off, so we just assumed those kids were getting some horrible kind of revenge on Flo”, answered the woman.

Bernie took a moment to process what the woman was saying. The cogs started to click into place in her head, she turned around to see Hilda running back home.

“Oh my” muttered Bernie.

After everything that had happened that year, her perfect utopia of comfort had slowly started to crumble, but this shattered it. Her daughter was a psycho in the making, cutting off dogs’ tails would only be the beginning. Was it her fault? Had she kept her too safe? Was she too much of a strict Mother? They do say strict parents make for rebellious children. But this was a lot more rebellion than she was expecting. She felt all her inner blame hitting herself in the face, she’d failed as a parent, there’s no coming back from this. She’ll never be as good as her parents were and that was all she’d ever wanted to be. Maybe the city would be a good place for Hilda, maybe the detachment will do her well, or maybe she’ll burn it down. Only time will tell.

For now, all Bernie could do was follow in her daughters’ footsteps, and run back home, away from the tailless dog.