XXVIII – Rome, Caesar, Mutts And Friend

Dear Journal:

Did I say long day?

Better make that a very long week. I might be Caesar, but I really had no clue as to how to govern Rome, let alone the whole Empire. I spent my days conferring with Senators and other public officials, while the Lady (I really couldn’t think of her as my mother) and my brother guided me through the jungle of government.

The process was a bit like walking on a sword’s edge while juggling anvils. Impossible on the face of it and damned difficult in reality. I began to learn and, as I did so, the angrier I got.

How had a fairly competent system like the Republic been replaced with this half baked system of semi-laws and whimsy? The question, of course, was rhetorical. This was the goverment that had evolved because of one man rule. Forget the people; hail to the Emperor!

I didn’t know just how yet, but things were going to change. I’d see to that!

On another front, the Mutts were thoroughly enjoying their new home. I found out just how much while walking the hallways, talking with my advisors. As we entered one especially long gallery, a big blur shot past us.


Turned out it was Mutt Two . . . on a cushion . .. traveling down the hallway at great speed. No sooner had the first Mutt sailed by, than another blur shot past.


It was Mutt One . . . on another cushion. At this point I felt obligated to find out where the doggie racers were coming from. As I neared the suspected launch point I got my answer.

The Tribune (of all people) was laying down cushions at specific spots. Once placed, one of the Mutts would take a flying leap and land on the cushion.


Doggie gone. The process repeated itself as each Mutt trotted back to launch point with their cushion in tow.



And so on. When asked, the Tribune said that he and the Mutts had sort of patched things up. However, they did bully him into becoming their cushion placer. Oh well. It was better than getting eaten.


Mutt Three gone. I started laughing and couldn’t stop for some minutes. I had always known the Tribune had to have a natural talent for something. Once I had calmed down, I informed the Tribune of his new job as Mutt Sitter. He shrugged and grinned. It was better than his old job. At least the Mutts were easier to please than his last boss.

And so the days marched on, and the legions from the Parthian invasion drew ever closer to Rome, and home. Things were about to heat up again.

Chapter XXIX

Published in: on October 21, 2009 at 5:42 PM  Comments (1)  

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  1. […] Chapter XXVIII Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)XXVI – Roman Caesar, Little Brother, and MuttsLittle brother visits the cityThoughts on Little Brother as a whole Published in: […]

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