by Chris Coppel
Rodney appeared by her side, and after a brief glance outside, started leaping in place excitedly.
“Rumble! We’re going to have a rumble!”
“A what?” Lucy enquired as the tiny Terrier dashed back into the cave and began waking the others.
Rex sleepily moved to Lucy’s side, and with exceptionally bleary eyes, stuck his head right through the waterfall. After a moment, he withdrew it and faced Lucy.
“Well, it looks like the Yorkie’s right. Those geese are asking for a rumble.”
“What in heaven’s name is a rumble?” she asked in a near exasperated tone.
“It’s a fight, Goldie,” he replied. “They’ve challenged us to a fight for this cave.”
CHAPTER 15
And so, the rumble began. At first the geese stood back and simply honked abuse towards the dogs, who as tradition dictated, returned the same via barks. The lead goose, who they learnt was named, Vol, was by far the most demonstrative, urging the others on to greater and greater heights of ire. Vol, of course, had the best reasons for being so livid, having been the one forced to vacate his shelter.
The barking and honking lessened as each side began circling the other, all the while evaluating their opponents. By some almost mutual instinct, battle adversaries were chosen, and the dogs and geese focused specifically on those they knew they were going to fight. Lucy was amazed at her own calm assessing of three wildfowl that were, in turn, eyeing her with the same intense curiosity and apprehension. She was not in the least bit scared, which also surprised her. In fact, she felt highly exhilarated and was finding it increasingly difficult to hold back from charging the birds. She had no idea what she was supposed to do once the attack was sounded. She only knew that she wanted to get on with it.
Finally, Vol gave the signal and the geese lunged forward, all seeking out their assigned canine targets. It was like nothing Lucy had ever imagined. She had assumed it would be relatively well-organised and, like all games of its sort, be halted prior to any great pain or damage being caused.
Lucy found out almost immediately that a rumble was not that sort of game. In fact, it was not a game at all. Vol was the first to attack and with one goose on either side of him, went straight for Rex. Lucy couldn’t believe the ferocity of their attack and was totally transfixed by it, right up until her designated opponents began their assault.
“Keep them away from your back,” Rodney yelled to her, as he himself battled a bird.
The first goose began nipping at her front leg, causing surprising pain when its strong beak clamped down against her bone. She tried to shake it off, but a second bird came in from the other side and began to assault her other front leg. Just as she thought things couldn’t get worse, a third goose landed on her back and started in on her neck.
It was at this point that instinct took over. Lucy spun herself in the air, shaking off the one goose. She then dropped to the ground and rolled to the side, releasing her limbs from the beaks of the other two. Without thinking, she lunged out with her back legs and connected with one surprised bird who was thrown backward, right into the pond.
“Nice one,” Rex shouted, from his own battle area.
Lucy didn’t have time to revel in her success, as the other two geese leapt into the air and descended on her exposed stomach. Lucy twisted herself away from them, and with a ferocity that surprised her, she brought her jaws together on the rear of one bird who was trying to grab hold of her tail. It honked loudly in pain and pulled itself free, leaving Lucy with a mouthful of feathers.
The battle raged on and on, with neither side giving in. There wasn’t one animal that didn’t sustain an injury of some sort, and in some cases, quite serious ones. Pru had a painful looking bump over her right eye, while Angel was bleeding from a nasty looking wound on her hindquarters. The geese however, had fared the worst. There was an assortment of bitten wings, bleeding legs, even one dislocated tail feather.
Finally, Vol gave the signal to cease the fight. He walked up to Rex, who amazingly appeared completely unscathed, and looked him straight in the eye.
“You fought well,” Vol began, formally. “I wish I could claim a draw, but I fear that you lot definitely took the match.”
“I can’t agree,” Rex responded with perfect decorum. “It’s way too close to call. You and your flock fought bravely, and I would like to say on behalf of all of us that it was an honour rumbling with you.”
Vol bowed proudly, then turned to the other geese and raised his wings high into the air.
“The rumble is finished,” he announced majestically. “the result is a draw.”
The geese were surprisingly happy at his announcement, and began honking, and flapping their wings. Those that could, that is.
Vol turned back to Rex and with a gracious smile nodded his head. “A good rumble! An exceptionally good rumble!”
“Thank you,” Rex replied.
“I would like to invite you and your friends to a small, post-battle supper tonight, if you’ll grant us the honour?” Vol offered.
“I would need to ask our leader and the others.”
“Of course, I understand.”
Rex turned and looked to Rodney, who simply smiled back at him. Rex tilted his head, puzzled by the Terrier’s expression.
“Rodney?” Rex asked. “What’s going on?”
“I agreed to be your leader while we searched for the park.” The terrier spoke in a calm, controlled tone. “But now that we’re here, I think it’s time this group had a real leader. Someone who can not only think, but also show real power when needed.”
“But . . .” Rex tried to say.
“No buts! I’m more of a rear-guard kind of dog anyway.”
“What are you two rattling on about?” Lucy asked, as she approached the pair.
“I would like to announce that we have a new leader,” Rodney said. “Rex, we are in your paws now.”
Rex glanced over at the others and smiled at each nodding, agreeing face. He stopped when he came to Lucy’s and searched deeply into her eyes.
“What do you think, Goldie?”
“Do you have to ask?” she replied.
With a nod of thanks, Rex turned back to Vol and proudly accepted the invitation on behalf of all the dogs.
The supper was to take place on Bird Sanctuary Island just across from the lake’s old, and dilapidated boathouse. Vol explained that it was only a few yards offshore, and though requiring a small paddle to get there; they would be undisturbed and able to enjoy what he described as, the victory feast.
The geese gathered themselves up, collecting some of their more vital lost feathers, and waddled off towards the lake. After tending to their wounds, the dogs decided to return to their cave and sleep for a while so they could recover some of their strength after the morning’s exhausting activities.
After their nap, the group spent the balance of the day recounting tales of battle that, with each new telling, seemed to take on greater and greater dramatic intensity. Details were added, specifics embellished, soon the rumble that was being described bore hardly any resemblance to the one that actually took place.
Even Lucy found herself drawn into the emotional story-enhancing and heard herself describing one attack with such terrifying and vivid depictions, that she began to almost believe her own recounting of the events. The only one who seemed to remain calm and distant from the frenzy of exaggeration was Rex, who simply nodded and smiled at each new addition to the ever-expanding saga.
Finally, having embellished to the point of utter silliness, the entire group got a case of the giggles, which lasted right up to the time they were scheduled to leave for their special supper.
Some hasty grooming took place, then, in as dignified a manner as possible, the seven warriors left their cave and made their way to Bird Sanctuary Island.
It wasn’t far. They passed the restaurant whose rubbish they had raided the previous night, then walked along the side of the lake passing a couple of small vending huts that were securely locked up for the night. They came upon the ancient boathouse as instructed and saw the tiny island only a few yards offshore.
Vol spotted the dogs and signalled for them to paddle across. There was a moment’s hesitation, then Rodney, for no reason other than impatience for dinner, dived in, and paddled fiercely across the narrow stretch of water. At his lead, the others followed him. Even Pru, who had spent the entire day ridding her coat of any signs of battle, slipped into the lake and gracefully swam across.
As they reached the island shore, the geese stood politely back as the seven soaked dogs went through their drying process, sending sprays of water in every direction. The birds tried to keep a straight face, but the sight of the seven canines, all shaking themselves in unison, was just too amazing.
Once groomed, the dogs were led to a clearing in the centre of the island, out of sight of the shore. Lucy was stunned at the turn-out. She, like the other dogs, had expected the geese that they had battled that morning and maybe even a few family members, but nothing like the number and variety of birds that she saw before her.
There were geese, swans, ducks, herons, and some variations that Lucy didn’t recognise. They were greeted with great aplomb and honest hospitality. Those who, only hours earlier, had been their mortal foes, were intent on making sure that their guests had plenty to eat and drink, and a comfortable piece of dry ground on which to sit.
The food was superb. The geese had arranged with a team of pelicans that specialised in catering, to deliver fresh fish from the lake continuously throughout the night. The ducks had brought very tasty pastries made from breadcrumbs, lake flowers, and sunflower seeds which they had mixed and then baked in the sun.
The swans had brought decorative baskets constructed from water reeds, which they had filled with wild mushrooms and fennel stalks.
The herons brought nothing, claiming they were unaware that it was a bring something sort of party. Vol whispered to Lucy that they always said that, and if there was a more tight-taloned flock of birds anywhere, he would like to meet them.
The greatest surprise of the evening was the special drink that was being served in their honour. It was made from dandelion stems, cherry tree bark and orange rind. This latter ingredient was thoughtfully, though unconsciously, provided by the humans who left a seemingly endless supply of it behind in the park almost every day after picnics and bagged lunches. The geese had used a hollowed-out log to hold the ingredients, which had been mixed with fountain water (transported by the pelicans). The dogs learned that the beverage had been ready for over two weeks, and that the birds were delighted to have finally found a suitable excuse to dip into it. It tasted delicious, and after a couple of good gulps, Lucy also found that it made her feel quite jolly.
After the supper had been served and cleared, Vol honked loudly for everyone to be silent. He hopped onto a raised mound of earth and looked down at the assembled multitude.
“My friends,” he began. “Those old and those new; I welcome you all to our little gathering. Today my gaggle and I went in search of vengeance for what I’d felt was an injustice carried out against me and mine. I felt that by being forced out of my waterfall habitat, these animals were questioning my position within the community. I have been your leader for some time now, and I have always tried to make the right decisions for us all. When I called for a rumble this morning, I was wrong. These canines meant no harm to the community or me. They were simply seeking shelter for the night. I allowed my own pride to influence my thoughts and as I stand here before you, I ask the forgiveness not only of my peers, but also of our newfound friends in whose honour we give this dinner. Canines, waterfowl, and other guests . . . please join me in a toast to our continued well-being within the safe boundaries of our park, as well as to our new friends Rex, Pru, Lester, Angel, Rodney, Hans and Lucy. You are fine warriors and true friends. Welcome!”
The other birds all rose to their feet and began flapping their wings together joyously. The pelicans performed a dazzling fly-by overhead, which brought tears to Lucy’s eyes, as she watched them gracefully pass before the muted illumination of the mist-covered moon.
After the speech, the party switched to high gear, and as more victory drink was consumed, the revellers began to dance and frolic long into the night.
Intoxicated by the special beverage and the events of the evening, Lucy sat at the island shore and looked out at the lights of the city. Rex walked up and gently sat next to her.
“Quite an evening, isn’t it?” he said.
“I feel so . . . so content at this moment,” Lucy said as she turned to face him. “It’s as if the last few days have opened my mind to a whole new world, filled with nothing but happiness and adventure.”
“Sounds like the victory beverage talking.”
“I don’t think so,” she replied, laughing. “Well, maybe a little, but I definitely feel like a different dog from the one I was a few days ago.”
“Are you saying that you don’t want to go home, Goldie?” Rex asked, with mild concern.
“Not at all. I love my home, and my Man, and Cook. It’s just I feel there’s more to me now and I like it.”
“Good for you,” Rex said. “You deserve good things Goldie. You’re a special dog.”
Lucy looked into his eyes and could see the warmth of his soul shining out from them. “What about you Rex? You can’t go back to your life the way it was.”
“We’ll see. We need to sit and decide, all of us, exactly what our plans are going to be. We can’t just hang out in this park for the rest of our lives.”
“What a pity,” Lucy whispered into the night. They sat in silence for a while, looking out across the lake as fish rippled the surface of the water, catching the moon’s reflection, and sending it dancing out across the dark, mirror-like surface.
“Hey, look at me!” Rodney shouted from the clearing.
They turned and saw the very inebriated terrier dancing on his hind legs, while hopping into the air.
“My biped taught me this,” he exclaimed, excitedly.
“I’m sure she did,” Rex whispered to Lucy. “I really am.”
Lucy tried not to laugh, as they continued watching Rodney dance with total, carefree abandon, the moon spotlighted him within the clearing. His tiny eyes seemed more like luminous jewels as they twinkled beneath a wild bang of dog hair.
A silence descended over the party as everyone watched Rodney, while letting their thoughts drift into the night towards their own personal dreams and fantasies.
CHAPTER 16
When Lucy woke the next morning, she had no recollection of how she’d got back to the cave. Her mind felt extremely fuzzy and as she opened her eyes, she found that she had a fierce, pounding sensation in her head. She looked over at the others and saw that they looked to be in just as poor shape as she was. Poor Rodney was trying to stand, but after each attempt, his little body would teeter, then collapse back to the ground followed by a pained moan.
“What happened to us?” Lucy croaked, somewhat surprised by the raspy quality of her voice.
“It was that damn drink they made,” Rodney said weakly.
“We may have had a drop too much,” croaked Lucy.
“A drop?” Lester exclaimed, from deeper in the cave. “We drank the poor birds out of nest and shelter.”
“We did, didn’t we,” Lucy sighed, remembering vague images from the previous night. “It was a fabulous evening though, wasn’t it?”
They all growled or moaned their agreement as they continued trying to pull themselves together.
“There’s only one good cure for feeling like this,” Rex stated with authority.
“Oh, oh,” Angel moaned
. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
“A good run, that’s what we need. A brisk sprint in the morning air will clear out the cobwebs and cool down our noses.”
They all looked at him with expressions of mild loathing and disbelief. Despite their feeble and fragile condition, they all followed Rex out into the exaggeratedly bright sunlight.
Once they were out in the open air, they did indeed begin to feel somewhat better. Rex led them at a good pace once around the lake. It was still relatively early, and there were few people to be seen. The park took on an entirely different mood in the early morning. A light mist hung over the lake, giving the waters a still, grey sheen. The only sounds, other than their own panting, were coming from the boats moored in the centre of the lake, as their fibreglass hulls gently bumped and scraped against each other.
Though the route took them past many squirrels and pigeons, no dog was remotely tempted to give chase or even bark in their direction.
After a few minutes, they came upon a large bridge that traversed the lake, dissecting it roughly in its centre. They watched from below as bipeds sped across above them, some in smelly four wheeled vehicles, some on two wheeled ones that though smaller, made even more noise than the four-wheeled machines. There were even some bipeds on two wheeled things that they themselves had to peddle. Humans seemed to go out of their way to devise any means possible to not use their limbs for walking. They were a strange lot.
They continued their run under the bridge by means of an old, and somewhat smelly tunnel. As they entered it, they found that any sounds they made were somehow amplified as they echoed back at them off the curved stone walls. A few dogs barked to test out the effects, and though fascinated, they soon found it too painful for their fragile heads.
They emerged on the other side of the bridge and saw the other half of the lake spread out before them. The shoreline vegetation was far wilder at this end, and the paths were a good distance from the water’s edge. Huge willow trees hung their branches into the glass-like surface of the water, creating natural sheltered hideaways, which the waterfowl had clearly claimed as their own.