Pedro The Ugliest Dog In The World

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Pedro The Ugliest Dog In The World Page 1

by Papa G




  Pedro The Ugliest Dog In The World

  Papa G

  Copyright 2011 by Papa G

  Smashwords Edition

  Chapter 1—Hard knock Life

  Pedro the ugliest dog in the world was ugly and when I say ugly, I don’t mean just plain old dog ugly, I mean hideously and unfortunately ugly. He had two bug eyes—one big, one small. He had jutting teeth and wonky ears. He had a tongue that was precisely two inches too big for his mouth and apart from one tuft of spiky silver fur on top of his head he was completely bald. But there is one thing a puppy can always count on—no matter how ugly he is—and that is the love of a mother, and Pedro’s mother, a wise old goat hound by the name of Carmelita, loved Pedro with all her heart for the brave little soul he was.

  "Why do I look so different from my brothers?" Pedro asked his mother one day.

  "Because you are special." His mother gave him a reassuring lick.

  "Special? Special how?" Pedro wanted to know.

  "You are brave and strong, one day soon people will come and take you to join their pack and you will protect them with your life as this is a dogs duty, they will not care what you look like and they will love you for who you are."

  "Who am I?" Pedro asked.

  "You are the bravest little dog in the whole of Mexico."

  "Sweet!" Pedro shouted and wagging his little hairless tail went back to playing with his brothers.

  Pedro enjoyed this time with his mother, and he enjoyed playing rough and tumble with his brothers. He even enjoyed the company of Señor Fuentes their owner.

  Señor Fuentes was a kindly old man who walked with a limp. Carmelita had told her boys that Señor Fuentes was once a famous matador who got injured by a bull and had lost all his money chasing ladies. Señor Fuentes loved Carmelita dearly, and although he was very poor, he always made sure that she had enough to eat, so she in turn had enough milk for her puppies.

  All too soon Señor Fuentes erected a wooden sign outside his little one room house. "Puppies for sale—twenty pesos," it said in bright red painted letters.

  Pedro and his brothers were excited. "I wonder what kind of pack will choose me," they asked each other.

  "Mine will be rich with a big house," said one.

  "Mine will be pirates and we will sail the seven seas," said another.

  "My pack will love me, and I will guard them with my life," Pedro said.

  Pedro ran to his mother. "I will miss you, Mamma, when my pack comes to get me."

  "I will miss you too, but this is the way of this world, and you will always be in my heart, my brave little puppy."

  "And you will always be in mine," Later that day families came to look at the puppies. Children joyfully pointed out which puppy they would like to take home, and their parents paid Señor Fuentes twenty pesos. But none of the children pointed out Pedro. Some children laughed when they saw him and said things like, "That is one ugly dog," or "Ha-ha, look at his wonky ears." Other children cried, and one little girl was so scared she ran out of the house screaming.

  One by one Pedro's brothers were taken, until by the end of that first day only Pedro remained.

  "Why did no one take me, Mamma?" Pedro asked, his bottom lip trembling, tears forming in his little bug eyes.

  Carmelita pushed Pedro's chin up and looked him in the eye. "Don't cry, Pedro; never cry, not because of the things people say. They are just words. They cannot hurt you. You are the bravest dog in the whole of Mexico, and the bravest dog in Mexico does not cry. Tomorrow is another day, and soon your pack will come for you."

  But tomorrow came and went and so did the day after that, and no one took Pedro. Señor Fuentes changed his sign to fifteen pesos, then to ten pesos, then to five. Days turned into weeks, but no one came for Pedro. Señor Fuentes gave up trying to sell Pedro and changed his sign to read, "Free Puppy." People came again, but they did not want such a strange looking dog. They just laughed or cried or said mean things, but Pedro did not cry, not once. He was the bravest dog in Mexico, and the bravest dog in Mexico did not cry.

  More weeks went by. Eventually the sign fell down, and people stopped coming altogether. Pedro began to get worried.

  "What are we going to do, Mamma? Señor Fuentes cannot afford to feed us both, and no one wants to take me."

  Carmelita’s shoulders sank but she managed to give Pedro a smile.

  "Don't worry, Son, we can share my food. There will be enough, I’m sure."

  Pedro felt a little better, and even though no one had chosen him, at least he would get to stay with his mamma.

  Months went by, and even though there was not much food, Pedro got bigger and stronger and perhaps a little stranger looking. He was happy and did what he could around the house, which was mainly being a guard dog and barking at passers-by, Pedro was brave and loyal, and he would make sure his mother and Señor Fuentes were safe.

  One day his mother called him.

  "Pedro, my son, I am with puppies again. They will soon be born, and you will have more brothers and sisters."

  "But we won't have enough food," Pedro said looking worried. "You will need extra food to grow them, and after they are born, you will need extra food to give them their milk."

  His mother was tired, she pulled him close. "Don't worry; I am sure Señor Fuentes will provide somehow."

  The next day Señor Fuentes came in and knelt beside Pedro's mother, giving her a pat. "Good news, old girl," he said, "I have found a nice family to take Pedro. I am going to borrow the neighbor's car and take him there this afternoon."

  Carmelita was overjoyed and felt better than she had in weeks. "Pedro, Pedro, come quick; I have wonderful news."

  Pedro came running in from the back yard. "What is it, Mamma?"

  "Señor Fuentes has found you a pack at last; he is going to take you to them this very afternoon."

  Pedro was so happy he could have cried, but he did not. "Oh Mamma, everything is going to be okay. You will have enough food for your puppies, and I will finally get what every dog wants—a pack of his own."

  "You will have a wonderful life my son. Remember to always be loyal and brave, and your pack will see you for who you really are—the real you inside, the bravest dog there ever was."

  "Thank you, Mamma, I will."

  It was not long before Señor Fuentes returned and put a leash on Pedro. He allowed Pedro one last good-bye to his mother.

  "You will always be with me in my heart, Mamma," he said.

  "And you in mine, Pedro. Remember always be brave and protect your pack with your life."

  "I will Mamma, I promise." And with that, Señor Fuentes took Pedro, put him in the back of his neighbor's pickup, and drove off.

  Oh, what a day this was for Pedro, getting his first ride in a car and finally getting to meet his pack. He was so happy. He stuck his head out of the side of the pickup and let his tongue flap around in the wind, spit flying everywhere. As Señor Fuentes drove out of town and turned towards the desert, Pedro was the happiest he had ever been.

  After a couple of hours of driving down desert tracks, Señor Fuentes pulled the truck to a stop and got out. He untied Pedro. Pedro jumped down, his tail wagging; he couldn't wait to meet his pack. He wanted to leap about and bark, but instead he sat down and looked up at Señor Fuentes just like his mother had taught him. Señor Fuentes bent down and took Pedro's leash off. Pedro looked around. There was no house nearby, only desert, sand, and rocks as far as the eye could see. Confused, Pedro looked back at his master, but Señor Fuentes would not look at Pedro. Instead, he looked down at his shoes in shame and whispered, "Lo siento. Pedro." Pedro watched in shock as Señor Fuentes turned back towards the pickup. His master he
sitated only a moment before he got in and drove off.

  As Pedro watched the car disappear into the distance, he did not cry. It was hard, but he did not cry.

  Chapter 2—The Desert

  The desert was a strange place—nothing but sand and rocks—but it was also quiet and peaceful, a good place to think. And Pedro thought a lot that night. He thought about what Señor Fuentes had done to him, but he was not angry—at least now his mother would have enough food. But most of all he thought about what he should do. He needed to get out of the desert and quick. He decided that it was no good feeling sorry for himself. He was no longer a puppy. It was time to grow up and start standing up for himself. If his pack would not come to him, then he would just have to find them. After deciding what needed to be done, Pedro eventually curled up next to a rock and fell asleep just before sunrise.

  "Hey, look, I found some road kill."

  Pedro woke at the strange voice. A vicious looking brown wolf with a nasty scar where his nose should be, stood over him. Pedro jumped up pushing the wolf back.

  Two other wolves sauntered over, one tall and skinny, the other short and fat "What you found, boss?"

  "I found some road kill, but it's moving."

  "Who are you calling road kill?" Pedro growled.

  "You, you cockeyed spaniel! You look like you've been run over twice."

  "Look who's talking. What happened to your snot nozzle? No nose." Pedro was outnumbered, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

  No-Nose snarled, showing sharp teeth and black gums. "Oh, you are dead. We are going to rip you apart and leave your bones for the buzzards. Get him."

  Pedro crouched low ready to pounce at whoever came at him first. "'You're the ones that will be torn apart."

  The wolves hesitated and looked at each other. Like all bullies they were cowards. Pedro saw his chance to attack and was about to pounce, when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

  "Hey, back off, chicken-lickers. Pick on someone your own size."

  The wolves looked round in surprise, but could not see anyone.

  "Who said that?" demanded No-Nose.

  "Hey, down here, and I said back off."

  Pedro didn't move, nor did he take his eyes off No-Nose.

  The tall skinny wolf put his nose down to the sand to get a closer look, then jumped back as if something had bitten him. "It's a flea!" he screeched. If there is one thing furry animals don't like, it's fleas, and this was a big one.

  "Get out of our way, flea," No-Nose growled. "Me and the boys are hungry, and one little flea aint gonna stop us from eatin this here dog."

  "Yeah?" said the flea as he jumped up on the rock next to Pedro. "Well, I ain't no ordinary flea. I'm a Mexican jumping flea, heavy with eggs. If you or these other two fart wranglers take one more step towards this guy, me and my babies are going to bring some pain down on your furry behinds and when my babies come, they come with the hunger!"

  The wolves looked at each other. The last thing they wanted was a flea infestation. They weren't that hungry. No-Nose backed away, his companions following. "We will get you, road kill; you see if we don't. You won't last two days in the desert, and when you start to weaken, that's when we will come for you."

  "Whatever losers!" shouted the flea.

  Pedro relaxed a little, but kept his eye on the departing wolves. "Thanks, but I can take care of myself," he said.

  "Is that right?" said the flea. "Who is this dog that can take on three wolves on his own? You are either very brave or very dumb my friend."

  "I am Pedro, and I am the bravest dog in the whole of Mexico."

  "It is a pleasure to meet you Pedro- the bravest dog in the whole of Mexico. My Name is Dave.”

  "It is nice to meet you Dave"

  "Pedro tell me, how exactly did you become the bravest dog in Mexico?”

  Pedro gave this some thought. "I don't know, but I am. My mother told me so."

  "Well, good for your mother, but those wolves were right about one thing—you will not survive alone in the desert."

  "I will find a way."

  "Sure you will. So, how did the bravest dog in Mexico end up in the middle of the desert anyhow?"

  "I was dumped here by my master. I don't really want to talk about it."

  Now that the wolves were out of sight, Pedro turned to where the flea was standing in order to get a closer look. The flea, although big for a flea, was still very small. He had two big black eyes, a jutting jaw with two large fangs and powerful looking legs. On his head he wore a sombrero, and slung over his back was a tiny guitar.

  "Dumped hey? That sucks." Dave said.

  "So what is a Mexican jumping flea doing in the middle of the desert?” Pedro asked.

  "Oh, I was hitching a ride on a goat, but he didn't make it." A look of guilt flashed across Dave's face." We were on our way to Santa Maria"

  "Santa Maria?"

  "Yes, Santa Maria, it is a town where all animals are welcome, and they live in harmony, free of people. I was showing the goat how to get there, but ... Hey look Pedro, we could help each other out here. I need a ride, and you need to get out of the desert. I know this place like the back of my hand. If you let me stay in that fur on top of your head, I would be happy to show you the way to Santa Maria."

  Pedro looked suspiciously at the flea. He did need some help, but he was unsure. "I don't know," he said. "What about your eggs?"

  Dave laughed."I haven't got any eggs. I'm a man-flea. Carrying eggs is woman’s work. I just said that to scare off those mangy wolves."

  Pedro laughed. He had never had a friend before, but he thought that maybe this flea could be a friend; he was quite brave after all. And how bad could having fleas be? Besides maybe he would find his pack in Santa Maria.

  "Okay, it's a deal," Pedro said tilting his head so Dave could jump on. Dave didn't need asking twice. He jumped straight into Pedro's patch of spiky silver hair and started making himself at home.

  "Hey, it's nice in here; smells good, too," he shouted.

  "Good," said Pedro. "Now which way?"

  "Erm ... just keep walking straight until I say."

  "Right you are," said Pedro, setting off.

  A moment later he felt a sharp pain on top of his head. "Yeeouch!" he cried. "Hey, what are you doing in there?"

  "Don't worry about that, just keep walking," came a muffled reply.

  Pedro wondered if having fleas was such a good idea after all.

  Chapter 3—Desperate

  Three days later

  "We should have been there by now." Pedro was crawling through the sand, the unrelenting sun beating down on him. He hadn't had a drink in three days; he was half dead, and things were desperate. "I'm not going to make it."

  "Well, if you had gone straight ahead like I said, we would be in Santa Maria by now," Dave said from his furry home.

  "What? I have been walking straight for three days!" Pedro fell flat on his face exhausted. "You don't know where we are going, do you?" he croaked. "This is what happened to that goat you were on, wasn't it? Now I am going to die as well, and you will just sit here, waiting for the next sucker to come along and give you a lift."

  "How dare you? I know this desert like the back of my hand, and I am sure we are nearly there. Besides you have got plenty to drink all around you."

  Pedro looked up. "Where?"

  "The cactus ... they are full of water."

  Pedro was gobsmacked; he couldn't believe he was nearly dead, and Dave hadn't said a thing before.

  "But ... but why didn't you tell me before?"

  "Well, I was kind of hoping we would find something better—an oasis or something, you know with fresh water, maybe some fruit, and oh yeah, lady fleas or even better ticks"

  Pedro was too exhausted to argue; instead he used the last of his strength to drag himself to the nearest cactus.

  "Now carefully use those wonky teeth of yours to pierce some holes," Dave instructed.

  Pedro bit
down on the firm green flesh, and a clear liquid ran out. Pedro lapped at the cactus juice, unconcerned for the prickles.

  "Oh, that's good," Pedro said, and then bit some more holes.

  "Hey, save some for me," Dave said as he left his hairy lair for the first time in three days and crawled to the end of Pedro’s nose.

  "I love this stuff, it makes my head go funny,"

  "Funny? Funny how?"

  "This is the El Loco cactus. It sends you crazy."

  Crazy sounded better than dead to Pedro, so he kept drinking.

  Chapter 4—Night Giraffes

  Pedro lay on his back with his legs in the air. "Hahahahahahahah, hoooooohoooooohooooooh, hehehheheehehehehehehhe, ohhhh, Dave man, you are the best flea a dog ever had, I love you."

  Dave and Pedro had been laughing non-stop for three hours. The cactus juice had indeed sent them crazy, and as they gazed at the night sky, the stars twirled and spun, like fireworks on Independence Day.

  "I love you too, Pedro," Dave had been on many animals in his life, but he had never really been friends with any of them. They considered him an annoyance, and he thought of them as little more than a convenience. But there was something he liked about this funny looking dog.

  "You can live on my head forever," Pedro said

  "Thanks, I intend to." Then their laughter continued as they watched the display they thought the sky was putting on for them.

  Another hour passed.

  "Hahahahahahahah, hoooooohoooooohooooooh, hehehheheehehehehehehhe, ohhhh.... I'm hungry," Pedro said still staring at the stars with big bug eyes.

  "Yeah, me too."

  "No, I'm really hungry. I could eat a horse. Let's go hunting; there must be something to eat round here somewhere," Pedro said.

  "Sure there is. Did I ever tell you I am an expert animal tracker?"

  "No, that is so cool." Pedro got unsteadily to his feet.

  Dave peered out from the fur on Pedro's head. "Well, of course I am; I'm a flea. Now shhhhhhhh, we don't want to scare any unsuspecting beasts that may be nearby. We need to find a trail or something."

 

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