Sir Scruffy McPoodle-Face was a beloved member of the canine community, a generous patrician of the 'Save-the-Strays' committees, and he was widowed father to fourteen, beautiful puppies (his wife had been hit by a car soon after her second litter, leaving Sir Scruffy broken-hearted).
However, Sir Scruffy McPoodle-Face wasn't perfect; he had come from a line of purebred Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, and thus had learned a terrible falsity, which he believed with his whole, doggy heart: purebreds dogs were better than mutts, and even mutts were better than any other animals.
Sir Scruffy wasn't quiet about these opinions, either. During his walks with the local spaniels, he would discuss how other, passing canines were of lesser breed (or, "god forbid," mixed breed) than he, and then, when Sir Scruffy was home with his pups, he would even go so low as to comment on the other spaniels he did his daily walks with, suggesting only Cavalier King Charles Spaniels were the best.
13 of his litter ate up his scraps of wisdom, yet 1 pup-- the youngest pup, named Miss Fluff-Fluff McPoodle-Face-- found his words twisted, and knew, deep down, they were wrong. One day, she finally questioned her Father over dinner (they dined on the finest meal of steaks and kibble).
"Father, if us Cavalier King Charles Spaniels are so great, then why can no one ever tell us apart from plain King Charles Spaniels? And why is our last name McPoodle-Face if poodles are lesser breeds than us? Aren't dogs all basically the same, no matter what they look like? We all basically like taking long walks, like playing fetch, and like eating, right? We all the same, right?" Miss Fluff-Fluff knew her Father well enough to expect his gruff reply, but she hadn't expected the utter look of betrayal Sir Scruffy McPoodle-Face shot his youngest and most fluffy daughter. Sir Scruffy loves Miss Fluff-Fluff most of his kin, and knew this runt of the litter was most assuredly the smartest, as well as the smallest and most beloved (and, again, fluffy).
"How would you like to spend a night in the doghouse, Miss Fluff-Fluff?" Sir Scruffy threatened his daughter in a harsh growl, causing some of the other pups to bark and howl in fear and some agreement (though Miss Fluff-Fluff could see the confusion spread across their furry faces).
"It's just a question, Dad. No need to call the kennel," Miss Fluff-Fluff said, trying to calm her irrational Father. He wouldn't be calmed.
"It's thinking like that that messes everything up," Sir Scruffy said bitterly. Miss Fluff-Fluff scowled, taking a bite of her kibbles and chewing slowly, thinking.
"I disagree," she finally told her Father, taking a deep breath. She really hadn't wanted to start a barking match tonight.
But it seemed Sir Scruffy didn't want to start one either.
"Fine. Disagree. But no one living under my roof will believe and support such scummy thought, and no daughter of mine will either, so be gone, and you are no longer a daughter of mine."
And at that, Sir Scruffy turned his back on his daughter, and Miss Fluff-Fluff, in utter shock, was disowned. Her siblings, afraid of meeting her same fate, turned away from her turn, gaining what they hoped was even more love from their distant, cold Father. Miss Fluff-Fluff scoffed--they were stupid, brainwashed, snooty dogs, anyway, so she didn't expect any more or any less.
Leaving her tags by the door, Miss Fluff-Fluff left the McPoodle-Face house once and for all with only a bone and a collar, afraid and unsure about the dog-eat-dog world she would now face alone.
She wasn't alone for long, however....
Thanks again for reading, and check in again tomorrow for part 2!
("Something Wicked This Way Comes")
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