Animal Factory

by Philip Caveney

  Ralph knew instantly that this new smell didn’t belong to a fox but to another dog and when Farmer Morton heard this he told Ralph to leave him and Fred to herd the sheep, and go and investigate straight away. Ralph hurried down the hillside, following the scent, which grew stronger and more troubling by the moment. There was something in the scent that spoke of distress and fear and as he got closer and closer to the source Ralph began to grow quite anxious.

  Then he saw the cause of it all. A large, sleek black dog, a female, was limping towards him across the field. She had long legs and a short stump of a tail. He could see at a glance that she had been cruelly mistreated. Her flanks were scarred by fresh cuts as though somebody had recently taken a stick to her. She also had a swollen belly which in his innocence Ralph took to be some kind of illness. He was too young to recognise that she was heavily pregnant. As he approached her she pulled back her lips to reveal her teeth and gave him a warning growl that made the hackles on his back stand up.

  ‘I don’t mean you any harm,’ he assured her and she seemed to relax a little.

  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘Force of habit. I’ve encountered quite a few hostile dogs on my way here.’ She sank down onto her haunches with a groan that reminded Ralph of the noises Fred made whenever he stirred his aching bones.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked her, edging closer and the two dogs put their muzzles together and sniffed each other. Ralph sensed pain in her, pain much worse than anything Fred was suffering. In his ignorance he assumed it was from the beating she had been given, for he had no idea that birth could be such a painful experience. ‘Can I help you in any way?’ he asked her.

  She gave him a pleading look. ‘You can find me somewhere quiet and warm,’ she said.

  He looked at her blankly. ‘Why would you

  need . . .?’

  ‘Can’t you see I’m about to have pups?’ she cried.

  ‘Oh . . . er . . . Pups! I . . . I didn’t realise.’ Ralph began to panic. He didn’t know anything about birth, it was something that confused and scared him. ‘Well, I’ll have to check with Farmer Morton first,’ he warned her. ‘He’s my master.’

  ‘Check with whoever you like,’ she snapped. ‘But be quick about it!’

  Ralph thought she was being rather rude, but decided it must be something to do with the pain she was in. He turned to leave but saw Farmer Morton and Fred coming down the hillside towards him. He shouted to them to hurry and they quickened their pace.

  ‘Hello, hello,’ said Farmer Morton as he approached, staring at the black dog. ‘What have we here then?’

  By this time Ralph had worked himself up into quite a state. ‘She’s having pups!’ he cried. ‘She’s having pups!’

  ‘Calm down,’ Fred told him.

  ‘She asked me to find her somewhere quiet and warm!’ cried Ralph.

  ‘All right, we’ve got the message,’ said Farmer Morton. He turned his attention to the black dog. ‘Where have you come from?’ he asked her, but she shook her head.

  ‘There’s no time to . . . answer questions,’ she told him. ‘We must hurry. My pups are . . . eager to come into the world.’

  Farmer Morton frowned.

  ‘Can you walk?’ he asked her.

  ‘A little way, perhaps.’

  He pointed. ‘If you can make it down to the road, I’ll go and fetch the Land Rover to carry you to my farm.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ she said and began to get herself up into a standing position. Farmer Morton hurried off and Ralph and Fred were left to escort the strange dog down to the road. She moved slowly, placing her feet with extreme care and Ralph noticed that her whole body was shuddering with pain.

  ‘You’re not from round these parts,’ said Fred and it wasn’t a question, so much as an observation. ‘Travelled a long way, have yer?’

  ‘Far enough,’ said the black dog, quietly.

  ‘Do you have a name?’ Ralph asked her.

  ‘Of course I do,’ she said, irritably. There was a long silence, during which Ralph expected her to say what it was, but she didn’t.

  ‘Somebody’s been knocking you about,’ observed Fred. ‘Would you like to tell us who beat you like that?’

  She shook her head. ‘What difference would it make?’ she asked.

  ‘We could tell our master,’ said Ralph, ‘and he might tell other tall ones, who could make sure whoever beat you is punished.’

  The black dog gave a harsh laugh at that.

  ‘The tall ones do as they think fit to creatures like us,’ she said bitterly, ‘and I have never heard of one of them being . . . punished for such crimes.’ She looked towards the road, which was now only a short distance away. ‘I don’t believe I can go any further,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll have to,’ Fred told her. ‘We can’t carry you.’

  She paused for a moment, panting for breath and then she continued grimly on her way.

  ‘And who’s the father of your brood?’ asked Fred. ‘Perhaps we could get a message to him, tell ‘im where you are.’

  The black dog swung her head around to stare at him. ‘I neither know nor care who the father is,’ she growled. ‘And I would ask you to keep my presence here secret.’

  ‘Just as you like,’ said Fred, but he shot Ralph a meaningful look, as though what she had said was of some importance.

  They finally reached the road and the black dog settled herself down on the grass verge with a groan. ‘What’s taking the tall one so long?’ she demanded.

  ‘Hey,’ said Fred, ‘Don’t forget our master’s agreed to help you. Try and be grateful to him and mind your manners.’

  The black dog lowered her head. ‘You must forgive me,’ she murmured. ‘It is the pain that makes me speak so bluntly.’

  Fred nodded but said nothing more for the moment. Ralph looked at him curiously, thinking that he was being rather unpleasant to the poor creature who surely could not help the condition she was in.

  After what seemed an age they heard the sound of the Land Rover’s engine and then they saw it approaching. Farmer Morton pulled to a halt and jumped out of the vehicle, then ran around the back to open the doors. He stooped, put his arms around the big dog and lifted her into the back. Ralph marvelled at his strength, for he had picked up the black dog as though she weighed no more than a basket of fruit.

  ‘We’ll meet you back at the farm,’ said Fred, setting off across the fields. ‘Come on, Ralph!’ Ralph raced after him, thinking that it was odd that they didn’t travel in the Land Rover with the black dog. But then he realised it was because Fred had wanted an opportunity to speak to him in private.

  ‘Don’t be taken in by that one,’ he warned Ralph as they ran across the fields.

  Ralph glanced at him in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean she’s trouble. Did you notice we asked her all those questions and she didn’t give us a proper answer to one of ‘em?’

  ‘She’s in pain,’ said Ralph. ‘Perhaps she can’t think straight.’

  ‘Pah! Nonsense. She had the answers right enough, she just didn’t want to give ‘em. I don’t trust secrecy in any creature and that one has more secrets than most, I’ll tell you that and I’ll tell you no more! If she stays with us for any length of time, I’d advise you to have nothing to do with her . . . or any pups she might give birth to.’

  Ralph didn’t answer. He thought that Fred was just being mean and he saw no reason to distrust the newcomer; indeed, he felt sorry for her and was determined to help her out in any way he could. But of course he didn’t tell Fred that. He told himself that because Fred had lived so long he thought himself wiser than most others of his kind. It was only years later that Ralph came to understand that Fred had been absolutely right to be suspicious and that he was a wise old dog indeed. But by then of course, it was far too late to do anything about it.

  Chapter Six

  A Difficult Birth

  When they got to the farm the Land Rover was pa
rked outside the old barn and Farmer Morton was just helping the black dog inside. He settled her into a stall and she sank down onto the straw with a sigh of relief. As Ralph stood there, looking in at her, Farmer Morton hurried to the house to call his wife. Fred took up a position on a bale of hay on the other side of the barn as though he didn’t want to get too close to the newcomer.

  After a short while Farmer Morton hurried in with Agnes. She was carrying a basin of hot water and a cloth. She stepped into the stall and kneeled down beside the black dog. Then she dipped the cloth into the water and tenderly cleaned the poor creature’s scarred flanks.

  ‘Who would do such a thing?’ she asked Mr Morton, but he could only shake his head.

  ‘A coward,’ he said. ‘But I can’t think of anyone round these parts who keeps Dobermans.’

  Ralph looked up at him, curious about the unfamiliar name.

  ‘What’s Dobermans?’ he asked.

  ‘She is,’ said Mr Morton, pointing at the dog. ‘It’s a breed, proper pedigree it is, not like you and Fred. Doberman Pinscher, I think the full name is. I’ve always thought them very handsome creatures.’

  ‘Fancy,’ said Fred, but he sounded mightily unimpressed.

  ‘D’you think we should send for the vet?’ asked Agnes.

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point,’ Mr Morton told her. ‘I’d say those puppies will be born within the hour and we’ve tended her wounds the best we can. Now all we can do is wait.’ He looked around at Ralph and Fred. ‘Come on, lads, let’s give her a bit of privacy. Agnes, you call us if anything happens.’

  He went out and Ralph and Fred followed. Ralph felt a certain disappointment, for he had never seen a creature come into the world and would have been fascinated to know what went on. As soon as he and Fred stepped outside, Henrietta made a run for them.

  ‘What’s all this I hear?’ she squawked. ‘Somebody said that there’s a strange dog in the barn and that she’s heavy with puppies.’

  Ralph looked at her, marvelling at how she could know so much in such a short space of time.

  ‘You know as much as we do,’ he assured her.

  ‘Nonsense! What’s her name? Where’s she from? What’s she doing here?’

  Fred grunted. ‘Reasonable questions,’ he said. ‘I asked them all, but I didn’t get a convincing answer to one of ‘em. Very suspicious if you ask me.’ He wandered towards his kennel. ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll try and get my head down for a bit.’

  ‘You’re going to sleep?’ cried Ralph. ‘At a time like this? You can’t!’

  ‘Watch me,’ said Fred. ‘But give me a shout if there’s any news,’ he added, and strolled away. They watched as he crept into his kennel.

  ‘I don’t think Fred’s very keen on the new dog,’ murmured Ralph.

  ‘Yes, I got that impression,’ said Henrietta. ‘Mind you, I suppose it is a bit odd, turning up here in the middle of nowhere. Most of the creatures we encounter are wild, but a dog, now that is unusual.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s a wild dog,’ said Ralph.

  ‘Why bless you dear, there’s no such thing, at least not in these parts, just as there are no wild chickens or wild sheep. All we creatures belong to some Tall One somewhere.’ She looked around. ‘Well, I suppose I should go and lay another egg,’ she said. ‘Only managed one so far today. All these interruptions. Let me know if anything happens.’

  She hurried off towards the chicken run and Ralph could do nothing but settle himself on the cobbles and wait

  He didn’t have to wait very long. Perhaps only half an hour later the door of the barn burst open and Agnes stood there, looking rather pale and calling for her husband. Farmer Morton came out of one of the buildings and hurried towards her.

  ‘I think she’s starting,’ said Agnes.

  ‘Already?’ he cried. ‘My goodness, that was quick. Lead on, my dear.’ Farmer Morton followed his wife back into the barn. Ralph made as if to go after him, but he turned back and gave him a stern look. ‘You wait out here, Ralph,’ he said. ‘She’ll not want too many watching when her pups come into the world.’ And with that, he closed the door, leaving Ralph to wait anxiously outside.

  Fred came to the entrance of his kennel and looked out.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s starting,’ said Ralph excitedly. ‘Whatever that means.’

  Fred grunted. ‘Nothing to do but wait then,’ he said.

  ‘How long does it take?’ asked Ralph.

  ‘It varies,’ said Fred. ‘Can be ages.’

  Ralph looked at him for a moment. ‘Fred, do you have any puppies?’

  ‘Yeah, three of ‘em,’ he said.

  ‘Wow, that’s great! But er . . . where are they?’

  ‘Blessed if I know,’ he said. ‘I saw them when they were newborn, of course, but they didn’t hang around for long.’

  ‘But . . . how did you come to have them? I mean, there’s no other dogs here.’

  ‘No, but there used to be. I had a wife.’

  ‘Really?’ This was amazing news. ‘Where is she now?’

  He gave Ralph a pitying look. ‘Where do you think she is?’ he growled irritably.

  ‘Oh . . . right . . . sorry.’ Ralph marvelled at his own ability to say the wrong thing. ‘Well, the pups, surely some of them must still be . . .’

  ‘Gone to other farms,’ explained Fred. ‘Obviously, any pup of mine is going to be a good farm dog, see. It’s in the blood. So, as soon as they were weaned, they were taken from their mother and sent off somewhere. Just like you were.’

  ‘I see. And . . . you . . . didn’t mind?’

  ‘Oh, well, you don’t get any choice in these matters. They were nice and everything, but . . .’ He shook his head. ‘The wife wasn’t too happy about it. Tess her name was . . .’

  ‘That’s a nice name,’ said Ralph

  ‘Yeah . . . Well, Tess was very upset after she lost that first litter. I did ask Mr Morton if she could keep one of ‘em, you know, just the one, but he told me he had buyers lined up for them and it wasn’t what you’d call a big litter, only three pups. He said, we’d have plenty more, bigger litters and we could maybe keep one of them. Only . . . Tess was never the same again. Used to wander round looking like she’d lost something, if you know what I mean. Then one winter, she took ill and . . . well, she was gone. A delicate thing she was, fine as a bee’s wing, didn’t really have a hardy constitution like me . . .’ He looked wistful for a moment, as though remembering. ‘She was sweet though, and those puppies were beautiful. Two boys and a girl, we had. I often wonder what ever became of ‘em. . .’

  He saw Ralph looking at him and made an effort to change the subject.

  ‘But Ralph, those pups in there. . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We don’t know anything about them. We don’t know who the parents are or where they’ve come from. We don’t know what made the mother wander all the way out here to have them or even what she was running away from.’

  Ralph waited, unsure of what he was trying to say.

  ‘I’m only saying,’ continued Fred. ‘They mean change and change can be. . .’ He paused for a moment as though he’d just realised something. ‘Change,’ he said. ‘The dream. . . the dream about the ravens. . .’

  ‘What about it?’ asked Ralph.

  Fred shook his head. ‘You remember what Henrietta said, about what she thought it meant. Change. See, I thought it was you, I thought you were the change. But now this dog comes and she’s black, just like the ravens in my dream.’ He stared at Ralph for a moment. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘If those pups survive the birth. . .’

  ‘Yes?’ whispered Ralph.

  ‘Take my advice, lad. Don’t get involved.’ And with that he turned and went back into his kennel to resume his sleep.

  Ralph continued to wait impatiently. The hours passed and still the door did not open. It began to grow dark but he continued to lie there, staring at the
door in silent fascination. Finally, with a noise that made him jump, the door creaked open and Farmer Morton peered out. He saw Ralph waiting there and gestured to him to enter the barn.

  ‘Well,’ he said. ‘It was a near run thing, but we made it in the end.’

  Ralph crept forward and looked into the stall. Agnes was kneeling beside the black dog who lay on her side in the straw. Against her belly nestled eight tiny black shapes, blind and mewling, their mouths hungrily seeking milk. Ralph gasped in amazement.

  ‘I had no idea there’d be so many of them!’ he cried.

  Agnes was stroking the black dog’s head. Ralph could see that the woman’s eyes were red as though she’d been crying.

  ‘We thought she was going to stop at seven,’ she told Ralph. ‘Four boys and three girls. But then, we realised that there was still one more inside her.’ She reached down and picked up the tiniest of the pups. He was less than half the size of his brothers and sisters and Ralph saw that he had a little tuft of white hair on his head, a feature that seemed to mark him out from the others. ‘Took more than an hour to get him out it did and after all that, he turned out to be a bit of a runt.’ She returned the puppy gently to his mother’s teat. ‘He might not survive, but the rest seem strong enough.’ She glanced at her husband. ‘It’s going to be a lot of extra mouths to feed,’ she warned him.

  Ralph was about to tell her that surely the mother would take care of all that when he realised that the black dog wasn’t moving at all and he felt a sudden chill go through him as he realised the puppies were feeding on their dead mother’s milk.

  ‘She was too weak,’ said Agnes. ‘I think it was the last pup that killed her.’

  Ralph looked at the tiny, squirming shape of the runt and thought how tragic a thing it was, the mother giving her life to bring this little creature into the world.