The time has come to bring new blood into the gang. Four of my most unsatisfactory members have left, after some persuasion from me, and a report on their performances over the past months, drawn up by my number two, Gus, the Alsatian.
I decided to give this task to Gus as a way of keeping him alongside during these difficult negotiations. He took a lot of persuading to carry out the job, as he was not in favour of getting rid of any gang members in the first place.
I had to hint that his position in the gang depended on him and I working closely together and as their leader I was entitled to fob off (not a word I used to him) some less pleasant tasks to him.
As usual, he took it with some grace and agreed that he was probably the best dog to draw up the report.
The day of this final meeting for the four was one of the few bright sunny times of the whole month and it contrasted deeply with the gloomy atmosphere in the barn. Even I, not known to be affected by such thoughts, was feeling a little apprehensive and received the woeful looks of the gang members as I walked in with as much dignity as I could muster. It would never do to let them think I was anything but cheerful and sprightly in gait.
Gus’s report was quite short and outlined where each dog had failed: the vicar’s beagles had been more than usually hang-dog (excuse the pun) in expression for several weeks, almost reverting to tears when asked to perform even the simplest task; Peaches the poodle, owned by Dr Jack Simpson, hated performing anything which seemed to interfere with the immaculate look of his coat (Gus described him as a lazy dandy), while Percy the Chorkie, the Yorkshire Terrier/ Chihuahua cross and pampered pet of Mr. and Mrs Cousins, was as dim as we always believed these cross breeds to be. Gus, of course, saved his face by saying Chorkie was not really fit for any purpose except eating and sleeping and left out his remarkable lack of brain power.
He was heard in silence, even from those who knew their days as gang members were drawing to a close. Gus and I had deliberated whether they should be given a week’s notice of expulsion, but agreed that as they would not know what this meant, we should demand a clean break and immediate cutting of ties.
Everyone looked to me. I made the usual speech filled with platitudes, thanking them for their loyal service and wishing them well in the future. They did not appear to know what to do next. Had they had any brains between them they would have recognised that now was the time to leave, but they just stood there looking bemused.
Now was the time to show leadership. I politely pointed with my tail to the barn door and with curt nod of the head said goodbye. It finally sunk in even for these dimwits that it was time to depart.
Slowly they turned and walked, with some composure I had to admit, out of the barn. The deed was done and I had room for four replacements. I immediately set about introducing to the remaining gang members who I was considering bringing in.
Of course, it seemed rather spur of the moment to them, but in truth I had given this much thought and had made up my mind a long time ago.
I wanted strong members who would be obedient and pose no threat to my leadership, so first I named Billie, a Border Collie with great herding instincts who I could rely on to keep the gang in check when they were out in a group.
He belonged to farmer Wright in the next village whom I had already approached with a tentative suggestion that he might like to join us. His response had been quite positive.
A Bassett Hound would be useful as their short legs made them ideal for slow hunting – which would no put too much pressure on those of us getting on in years and not so nimble of foot. Charlie from the house at the end of the village should do nicely.
The Airedale Terrier, Aaron, lived quietly two villages away and was known for his hunting and swimming skills, always alert and quite fearless. A sense of humour is always a useful asset and Aaron has that in abundance. A useful chap to have around.
I have not yet decided on the fourth choice and announced that I was considering applications from other breeds in the area. I also asked for suggestions, which is always a good way to pretend to consider their choices before turning them down, Makes the lads feel as if they are part of the selection process.
The new-look gang will meet in two weeks for their first pep talk from me. It will also serve as a reminder to those saved in this first cull that they had better buck up their ideas if they are to remain members.
It was no bad idea to show them that replacements were readily available if they step out of line.
Gus and I must now lie down to discuss a programme of future events.
