Story about Bertram Aldergast (aka Bert the dog) and the Strange Brown Food.

Bertram Aldergast

Story about Bertram Aldergast (aka Bert the Dog) and the Strange Brown Food.

In the corner of Bert's garden there was a broken slat in the fencing separating Bert's territory from his neighbour's. This breakage was hidden by a dense patch of nettles which rendered Bert's escape undetected as well as protecting the escape route itself from detection.

Bert considered himself well enough fed by the people with whom he lived. There was some debate in his mind as to whom was owner and whom, pet. His argument was that since his life was devoid of any activity that might be considered work, he was provided with two meals a day (admittedly with food that was neither notably tasty, nor varied from day to day) and his humans rushed around wielding small black plastic bags picking up his poo, he was evidently the superior being.

The absence of variety in his diet was often assuaged by forays into the neighbour's back garden where the cat, a curmudgeonly tabby called Tiberius Onassis the Third (in cat language; the humans, illiterate in feline nomenclature, called the animal Tibby which caused the cat no little embarrassment) often left half his breakfast for he lacked Bert's uncomplicated attitude to food, and oftentimes expressed dissatisfaction with his diet by leaving half a bowl.

One Tuesday in Midsummer Bert took his customary post-breakfast escape through the fence and made for Tibby's bowl. On this occasion he was surprised to discover an empty cat food receptacle, devoid of catty comestibles, but by the side of the bowl was a brown lump of mysterious provenance, but decidedly enticing savoury aroma. Giving the doggy equivalent of a shrug Bert gave the lump an exploratory lick and, finding the taste entirely pleasant, followed up with a hearty gobble and a satisfied swallow.

After a brief stroll about the neighbour's garden, which yeilded nothing of significance, Bert retraced his footsteps and returned through the hole in the fence to take up his favourite post under the apple tree where, gently belching, he was soon asleep, dreaming of muddy streams, chasing rabbits, and other doggy delights, some too disgusting to be mentioned in a polite story like this.

On the next day (quick quiz to see if you have been paying attention - what day is it now?) Bert again made for the Tibby food facility but was again disconcerted by the empty bowl, but accompanying brown lump. Throwing caution to the winds he gulped it down and, after a sotto voce barklet (for he had no wish to be discovered) retreated to the apple tree for more soothing snoozes.

This pattern continued for a week before, emerging into the bright sunlight on the neighbour's lawn, Bert was startled by the presence of two intruders. His identification of them as intruders smacked of the hypocritical as his own presence in the garden was indeed illegal but he put that moral issue to one side as he confronted a prickly hedgehog and a scrawny peahen, who honked in alarm and took off vertically, landing on the roof of an adjoining garage (the peahen, not the hedgehog who merely rolled into a ball). At that moment Bert gained an insight as to who had got to the cat food before him and an appalling suspicion as to the origin of the tasty brown lump.

He made a smart exit and retired to the apple tree where he pondered upon the uncertainties of canine life. He left us with some unanswered questions as well - no?