“Oh mother look! Isn’t he simply gorgeous!Mother frowned disapprovingly.“Oh please mother”, I exclaimed, “he’ll make a great buddy! ... Oh...mother, that’s it! ... I’ll call him: Buddy!”Marcel scrutinised the dog; noting his conspicuous cock and felt her face flush. Lurid memories from her own early doggy-sex days flashed through her mind!“Well Gema, you must realise, he’ll be quite a hand-full before long!”Mother never spoke a truer word!From that day it seemed Buddy and I were made for each. I had already spotted a riding crop hanging from the wall, taking it from there, then dropping my voice to a sinister whisper. ‘Or you will find my displeasure. And the last thing you want is to do is displease Mistress Scharlach.’ To better express myself, I cracked the riding crop on the table where the tailor had been busy working. He nearly leapt out of his skin, and he could be seen to visibly perspire. He struggled to keep his eyes off me, but the riding crop that still was pressed. After a few moments, he was able to do so. He watched it spin round and round, casting faint shadows on the vaulted ceiling of his bedroom. The light in here was dim. It was always dim in the mornings, usually until eleven o'clock or so during these summer months. His newly constructed house, and the bedroom within it, faced southwest, toward the town of Lyttelton below. On New Zealand's South Island, the rising sun was in the northeast. It wasn't until it cleared the Port Hills that its rays. Then he saw the kid, Jack, who stood in the open doorframe of the second room. The boy looked startled. He walked slowly to his crying mother and saw his dead father at the wall. He stood still and looked at Jacob. He lift his fists in a silly attempt to attack his dads killer.“I don’t want to kill you, boy”, Jacob said with his raw voice, heavy with alcohol. He pointed the sword at Jack. “But I will, if you attack me, you understood? Your father made the same mistake.”Slowly, Jacks fists sank.