Brutus.


Brutus. train stories
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sy
sy There we go
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
a semi-true version of events witnessed today

Brutus.

Brutus would not budge. He had taken one look at the Moving Thing and had decided to go nowhere near it, planting his behind firmly on the floor. No matter how hard Alpha Called Dave tugged, or Dave's pup Lois shoved, Brutus made sure that he moved not one inch further. The Moving Thing moved! This was a Bad of the most extreme sort. It was even badder than

those evil black twigs that the Wrinkly One called Nan ate, which make her smell of aniseed. He strained against the chain about his neck, trusting, not his paws, but his massive bulk to keep him safe. Brutus was aged one, and weighed 75 kilograms. Eventually he would add 20 more kilos of muscle, but seeing as he had already surpassed Alpha Dave, there

was little contest. Every so often, Brutus wondered why he was not Alpha Brutus, but would immediately dismiss the thought as a Thing Not Worth Considering, and go back to wondering when dinner would happen. Brutus liked dinner. Dinner was a whole chicken. So was breakfast. To sustain him in the interim, Brutus was allowed up to three Good Boy Discs that tasted like crunchy cows.

It was one of the Discs that Lois was waving under his nose as he whined and yelped at the Moving Thing. She seemed to be bargaining - a taste of crunchy cow for walking onto the Moving Thing. Brutus considered the offer. On one paw, he would have a disk, but on the other paw, he would have to do precisely what he did not want to do. He dribbled a little, and stretched out his huge pink tongue to lick the

the disk, but Lois thwarted his efforts, stuffing the morsel back into the Small Pouch of Mystery and Wonder. Brutus knew better than to go for the Small Pouch - Bad Things happened if he tried. Brutus drooled some more, his saliva pooling magnificently onto the train station floor. Other Tall Ones and their pups streamed around him, squealing and pointing and

smelling of Interesting Things, and then walking confidently onto the Moving Thing. If they could do it (especially the puppies of inordinate height), then so could Brutus. And then Dave would be happy, and he would also receive a Good Boy Disc. It was so tempting... But then the Moving Thing make a clonking, shuddering noise. None of the Tall Ones seemed concerned, but it was

all too much. Brutus began to shuffle backwards on his rump, like the time he had worms, which was also Bad. However, the present Bad was far worse. No amount of discs or chickens could bring Brutus any closer. Brutus turned his powerful head to Alpha Dave. They stared at each other for a moment, imploringly. Neither wanting to lose the battle. But Brutus had one final ace to

play. Having no concept of time, he was willing to wait for eternity. Alpha Dave was going with Lois to her swimming (A big Good, if Brutus had known) competition, and was keenly aware of the minutes ticking away. They had to catch the 11.02 train to Bath (in any other context but the city, a Bad) so as not to miss her race. But Brutus did not know any of this, and so he continued not moving.

Alpha Dave looked at Brutus, then at his watch, then at pup Lois, then back to Brutus. He sighed, his shoulders dropping like he carried the weight of the world. Which, coincidentally, was fairly close to what Brutus weighed. And poor Dave would have to carry him. All the way down the escalator.

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