Most evenings, Harold would take his walking stick and go out for a stroll. That stick was good for walking, and for unruly dogs as well. In fact, there was this one little yapper named Sugarplum that would take to his heels and nip whenever it could. And since this nuisance animal belonged to the sweetest old lady in the world, no one ever complained, including Harold. He’d just hike up his suspenders, puff up his chest, and block that canine-demon’s attempts to draw blood, with his stick.
This got into an ongoing feud that occurred more and more frequently. The terrier-banshee would hide and wait to ambush Harold, growling in anticipation. One pleasant April morning, Harol awakened in a more vigorous state than usual. It was a fine day for a stroll. He set off with that dog in mind, ready to sideswipe it with a foot if necessary. One thing he knew, the vile animal would be lying in wait. And, sure enough, right around the corner of a tool shed, the mischievous mutt was planning his attack!
Harold’s pulse quickened as he approached the canine’s territory. He gripped his stick even tighter. The little hell-dog snarled as Harold drew closer. The fur on its back stood up like a butch-waxed flat-top. But just as he was set to lunge for Harold’s leg, the sweet old lady came out of her kitchen door with a handful of bacon, hollering for Sugarplum. The dog was now faced with a dilemma—go for the goodies or go for the action. At one point, he began to trot towards the kitchen door, but then turned and started towards Harold.
“Sugarplum!” called his elderly owner in her most enticing voice. At this, the unruly cur began imagining the taste of that bacon, as the aroma wafted past his nose.
And it was just at this moment that Harold approached, menacingly, stick in readiness. Sugarplum’s hair stood back up, as he quivered in malicious glee. But then, his matronly master walked towards him with her treats and he wavered. “Why Harold, how nice to see you!” she chortled with a pretty smile. Harold melted immediately. He hid the stick behind him as he greeted her with a charming grin. Sugarplum hovered dangerously when he moved towards her.
After a few minutes of small talk, Harold decided he’d head home, and turned back. He gave the frustrated dog a backwards glance, then started off down the road. Sugarplum bared his teeth, growled a nasty growl, then turned his attention to the bacon. At this, Harold twirled around triumphantly, reached back, and yanked his wicked little tail!
