XXI – Roman Pets And Parades

Dear Journal:

Winter had passed and spring was in bloom.

This particular morning I was sitting on my front porch, just watching my neighbors go by. The Hill was the same as any other neighborhood, just ritzier. Where my former neighbors would have been out doing morning chores, up here the servants were shopping, fetching, carrying, etc. Some Patricians were walking their pets, mostly dogs, with a big feline predator or two, while others, like myself, were catching the early morning rays.

Mutts One and Three were out greeting the neighborhood menagerie with happy wuffs and wagging tails. Mutt Two, the sleeper, was by my side snoring lustily away.

Down the street aways, the Lady could be seen giving directions to her staff. Units of Praetorians were going up and down the street, accompanying their employers on various spring shopping sprees. All was idyllic and peaceful.

Yeah, riiight! Anyone reading this journal knows what my peaceful days turn into.

Like I said, I was enjoying a peaceful morning when, at my side, Mutt Two woke up. She sat bolt upright, sniffing the breeze and rumbling. She was the best rumbler on the block. The other two mutts, not to mention every other animal around, were poised in launch position, aimed at the top of the Hill. All of the humans in attendance had stopped doing whatever they were engaged in, and were also looking in the same direction as the animals.

Sensing trouble, everyone, myself included, summoned their pets back to their respective lairs, some unwillingly. Mutts One and Three backed toward me and, eventually, sat down in front of me, in guard position.

The cause of the hubbub was quickly made apparent. With a flourish of trumpets, and one blaat, marched the Tribune, at the head of an Imperial procession. I swear that, as the Tribune came down the street, his progress was followed by dozens of beastly eyes. Even the Lady’s two panthers, Antony and Klio, lazily watched. They both yawned, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth, and, when those two cats growled, everyone paid attention.

The Tribune’s progress slowed until the whole mob ground to a noisy halt, nearly tripping over each other at the sudden stop. The General of the Praetorian Guards stomped up to the front of the line, only to find the Tribune frozen where he stood. Words flew back and forth, the Tribune making it quite clear that it was certain death to go any further. The exasperated General looked down the street and, as Jupiter is my witness, all of the animals looked right back at him.

Innocence incarnate.

The General demanded that the procession go forward, while the now hysterical Tribune was gesturing frantically at the street, on the edge of a nervous breakdown. The General yelled, the animals smiled, the Tribune cried, and the procession went nowhere. This was going to be fun to watch.

Chapter XXII

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