XLI – Roman Picnic, Mutts And A Terrified Vendor

Dear Journal:

Several days after the return of Brother and Tiny from their ‘fog’ rescue, (which, by the way, disappeared within hours of the rescue. No explanation, except that Tiny’s and Surai’s eyes glowed briefly like twin suns.), I decided that the household needed a break to unwind.

Picnic time!

So, I gathered everyone (the Lady, Brother, Old Senator, Mutts, Pups and Titans) and set off to the park. The Tribune was with us, commanding a contingent of Praetorians. I grumbled but rules were rules. I was Caesar, and thus a prime target for assassination. Sometimes I really hate my job. I consented on one condition; that the Praetorians enjoyed themselves and relaxed a little.

So off we went. The whole mob headed down the hill to the spot where I had that unnerving lunch so long ago. Looking at the park, that incident seemed like yesterday. Not three years ago. Fortunately, there were no vagrants around. I was surprised to find that I was still feeling the fear of so long ago. I mentally shook myself. I was Caesar now!

Nobody could easily threaten me without reprisal from my guards. I hoped.

So thinking, I was determined to enjoy myself. There was no way to be inconspicuous about our arrival. Nearly fifty people (most of them heavily armed) with eight hounds of varying sizes were hard to ignore.

The other picnickers tried not to stare, but failed miserably. The sight of Caesar and crowd in a public park was a real novelty to them. Well, I figured, they’d better get used to the idea. I intended to do this as often as I could.

We picked a spot some distance from everyone else and proceeded to have fun.


You guessed it. Nothing went smoothly. Sarai, Mutt Two and Pup Two found a shade tree and promptly went to sleep. Mutts One and Three were drooling at all of the food we had brought along, their wrinkles positively squirming with anticipation. The guards discreetly positioned themselves around us and proceeded to chat and play dice. The Lady and the Senator promply got into a heated discussion, trying to one up each other about old memories. Brother was with me, also discussing the ‘good old days’.

We were well into things when I had the feeling something wasn’t right. I looked around and did a head count. That’s when it hit me. Where were Tiny and Pups One and Three?!

One of the guards said he had seen them ambling over to another part of the park. When I asked him why he hadn’t stopped them, he said that they seemed to know where they were going, and he hadn’t been sure he had the authority to stop them. After all, they were Caesar’s pets. Thus, no reason to speak. I shook my head and, with Brother and five Praetorians in tow, headed off in the same direction.

Searching high and low for roughly ten minutes, we found the three escapees cornering a meat vendor. The poor man was surrounded (actually, he was in the lower limbs of a tree) and the pooches were drooling over his selection of high grade meat.

I think what really had destroyed the poor guy’s nerves was Tiny. The Titan had his forepaws up against the tree and his stumpy tail was wagging furiously. Tiny was smiling and he just wanted to be friends.

The vendor, however, wasn’t in the same frame of mind as Tiny. The vendor had seen Tiny’s size and his razor teeth and he probably viewed Legion Mutt as his worst nightmare come true. Brother yelled at Tiny to cease and desist. Tiny, with a RUFF! at Brother, left the tree and trotted over to his friend.

Meanwhile, I had corraled the Pups and the Praetorians were helping the terrified vendor down from his perch. Once he was down, I explained the situation. The dogs were probably hungry and had gone in search of their own picnic. At no time did they have any intentions of hurting him. They just weren’t used to outdoor life.

I apologised to the vendor and told him to give the mutts any meat they wanted. It would be paid for. So after a few minutes, Titan and Pups headed back with us, carrying large slabs of meat. The Praetorians had another load of morsels for the other mutts, as I didn’t want this incident to happen again. Oh, by the way, Tiny was so happy about his snack that, before anyone could stop him, he went over and licked the vendor a ‘thank you’.


The guy was bowled over by that immense tongue, and promptly hid behind his stand. Once back at our picnic site the loot was distributed and everyone settled in for a nice, quiet picnic. Fat chance!!

Chapter XLII

Published in: on December 7, 2009 at 12:11 AM  Comments (1)  

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  1. […] Chapter XLI Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)XVIII – Roman Mutts And Parthia . . .XXVI – Roman Caesar, Little Brother, and MuttsXIX – WUFF!!! Crowded Roman Published in: […]

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