Darling, Mercy Dog of World War I

Darling, Mercy Dog of World War I — page 5 — The three of us were in the fenced yard behind home a small brick house in the village of Cosham in England A pigeon flew from the eaves and flapped over my head I leaped up trying to catch it and the helmet toppled to the ground Katherine grinned See Darling doesn’t want to be a soldier She reached for the nurse’s cap still in Robert’s hand Give it to me please 2

Darling, Mercy Dog of World War I — page 6 — Darling Mercy Dog of World War I Never Robert tossed the cap into the rosebush She will be a sergeant like Father Oh you brute Mummy Katherine hollered as she ran for the back door Another pigeon fluttered from the eaves I jumped and it soared upward Ears pricked I raced after the bird as it glided over the picket fence I dove beneath the rosebush The thorns snagged my fur but couldn’t get through the thick rough of my coat Working furi ously I widened the hole I had been digging for days No Darling Robert grabbed my collar You mustn’t run off Father is leaving for France this morn ing We have to say goodbye Dirt flew from beneath my paws Tugging free from Robert’s grasp I crawled under the fence Rags met me on the other side his terrier whiskers bristling with excitement We raced down the dirt lane Pigeons burst from sidewalks and stoops taunting us No pigeon could escape us Rags and I darted right and left Turning the corner Rags led the way up High Street 3

Darling, Mercy Dog of World War I — page 7 — Alison Hart Get outter the way you mutts Cart wheels barely missed my paw A burlap sack of last year’s potatoes fell onto the walk in front of me Thomas the fruit seller’s cob whinnied His hooves danced and his harness jingled as if he wanted to gallop away with us In the distance I heard Robert and Katherine calling But I was tired of playing soldier and nurse Running free was too fun A horn honked as we crossed the cobbled road Tires screeched A cane whacked at my head The baker’s boy yelped as we wound around his legs Rags zipped past the post office Sparky the postmaster’s dog used to bark from the doorway when we went past Sweet from the dress shop would chime in with her yips Where were they now Lately Rags’s and my barks were the only ones to be heard I lifted my muzzle in the air The smell of meat and marrow teased my nose The butcher’s boiling bones We both knew what 4

Darling, Mercy Dog of World War I — page 8 — Darling Mercy Dog of World War I that meant Bones to steal Bones to gnaw Bones to bury Rags tossed a hurry up bark over his shoulders Panting we careened down Wayte Street and stopped at the back corner of the shop A huge cast-iron kettle steamed over a wood fire There was no sign of the apron-clad butcher and his cleaver Rags crouched in the shadows around the corner I waited politely by the back door My ears pricked when it creaked open Aye Darling you artful beggar Are you looking for a bit of a treat the butcher asked I sat back on my haunches and lifted my paws prettily Plucking two bones from the pot with bare fingers he tossed them to me Don’t be wasting them now Times are hard since food’s been rationed and the win ter’s been so cold He sighed I wish this bloody war would end Rags darted out snatched a hot bone and ran off I barked a thank-you Delicately I picked up my bone 5

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