I thought of a number of plans, including coming to a secret arrangement with another gang to hold a full-scale fight – and lose. That would reinforce my argument that we need more dogs to survive. But even I realised a little later that this was not a good idea as secret meetings had a habit of becoming public and my gang would never forgive such a move.
I had to be more subtle in my approach, I thought, and find more convincing arguments for enlargement.
I decided to offer new places on my executive, if the gang agreed to my plan, and expand the current two deputies to four, thereby giving hope to those interested in advancement.
I would also appeal to their basic instincts by suggesting more feast days when I would provide the goodies and fewer physical exercises.
These would be put to a future meeting – when things had settled down after my defeat.
In fact, I let him go first as I felt my arguments made last were more likely to sway the boys to my side.
Actually Gus put up a good show for a dog who was not used to addressing audiences. He marshalled his facts in order and reminded the boys that enlargement would mean diluting their chance to influence decisions. He added that it would avoid friction between the “new” and “old” members that would inevitably arise.
I said that bringing in more members could only be of benefit and would give us more clout in any disputes with neighbouring gangs. I was thinking about the future, I reminded them, because it was inevitable that other gangs would grow and we could be left behind.
For once, I decided to put the matter to a vote and asked them to raise tails for or against enlargement.
To my surprise - and annoyance – Gus won by a good majority and I was forced to concede. All my life I have been against democracy in gang affairs, keeping decision-making as my prerogative, and so far it had worked extremely well.
But I was determined not to let the gang see that I was frustrated. In fact, I told them that they had won the day and their decision was accepted. On the way home I brooded over how I could get my way.
The gang’s new quarters is more comfortable now that we have managed to sort out the draughts. I can usually tell when the boys are happy because more turn up for meetings - and there is less grumbling and shuffling around looking for a dry spot, as there was in the previous barn.
So it was almost a full house when we met last week with everyone in a cheerier mood. It could have something to do with the end of winter and the first signs of spring, at least where we are.
There was just one item on the agenda, so I opened the proceedings with a short rallying call, reminding them to keep alert as, in the days ahead, the pressure from other gangs to usurp our predominate position was a constant danger.
We were there to discuss another matter, however, and that was whether the gang should be expanded from its current 11 members. I was in favour and my number two, Gus the Alsatian, was not. Normally, I would have a quiet word with him before meetings to sort out a common position, but this time in the interests of democracy, I decided to let him address the meeting.
When it was time for her to say good night, the Vet offered to drive her to the hotel and asked for both her own and her father’s telephone numbers, which I saw he carefully wrote down in his little diary.
A few days later he came to Mrs Kennedy with a puzzled expression - apparently he had rang both numbers a few times only to be told that neither was operative.
He thought it most strange and asked Mrs Kennedy to try herself the following day, just in case he had dialled incorrectly. She said the operator had come on each time and said that numbers were unobtainable, in fact they were no long in use.
It was not until some months later that we found out the true story. His friend had died many years previously, leaving a wife but no children.
The girl in the shop had found a lonely older man and duped him. Even the police were unable to trace her and believed this was a confidence trick she had pulled all over the country. The Vet soon confirmed that when he found cash and jewellery missing from an upstairs room next to the toilet.
She did not think so, was her reply, as she did not live in the area and was there just for a couple of days to carry out the survey.
The Vet, who according to Mrs Kennedy was never at ease with women outside his surgery, for once stood his ground and asked her straight out whether she knew a man, whom he named, and related that he had gone to university with and remained good friends until just a few years ago when they lost touch.
The young lady was quite shocked, as I could see from outside the store where I was left waiting. At first I thought the Vet had stumbled again, probably asking her too many personal questions – as had happened on previous occasions in my presence.
But the young lady gave a great whoop followed by a bear hug which left the Vet quite flushed. She was the man’s daughter, she declared, and had heard her father mention the Vet many times. He then invited her to dinner that evening.
After my supper, I bagged a place under the dining room table so that I would be able to listen to their conversation during the meal.
She arrived right on time and Mrs Kennedy stayed late so that should serve the meal – and have a good peep at the lady in question as the dishes came flowing out of the kitchen.
It was a one-sided conversation throughout the meal, with the Vet reminiscing about the great times he had at university with her father and she politely encouraging him to carry on with his stories – which I found to be deeply boring, as I had heard them all many time before.
The Vet was in his local pharmacy recently when he was “pounced on” – his words – by a very attractive young lady asking is he would take part in a survey. Normally, he told our housekeeper Mrs Kennedy in my hearing, he would have said that he had no time to waste and rushed out, but something made him hesitate and agree to be interviewed.
The questions she asked were to do with the service he had received in the store were hardly brain tasking, just requiring yes or no answers. But the more she carried on, the more he was convinced he knew her from somewhere.
A little shy of asking her straight out if she was the daughter of an old friend, as he suspected, he mumbled something about having seen her before, but could not remember where.
