Toto takes Topeka

      Yow! It was hot. And dusty? Nothing in Oz or the Nine Universes had
 prepared Toto for the back road to Topeka in August. Dorothy was away at
 college now, and no one on the farm kept too close an eye on the little dog.
 It was easy to slip away, and he only had to be back by the Thanksgiving
 recess to fool everyone into thinking he had been around all along.

      Now why had he decided to go to Topeka? The breeze blew some dust in his
 face, again, and he stopped to sniff at what had been a puddle. He trotted
 on. The breeze blew dust in his face, again. What Toto needed now was about a
 week of cold, drizzly weather. Good traveling, good hunting and about as
 likely to strike Kansas in August as.. as.. well, Toto didn't think about
 stuff he couldn't think of. The breeze blew a little dust in his face. Toto
 trotted on. 

      Sometime in the afternoon he crossed a culvert that had a little water in
 it. Toto lapped and sniffed around, and relaxed for a little while in the
 breath of cool air that trickled down the watercourse. Now, why had he decided
 to go to Topeka? 

     This sure was a lonely road. Didn't any people live around here? Dogs and
 other animals were fine with Toto, but they were usually hard to fool, he
 couldn't make a decent living off other animals. Why, that was no better than
 being  an animal. Toto thought of himself as One Fine Dog, and had his own 
 code of canine behavior. He did quite well at it too, in his own  eyes. Seeing
 as it was his own code, no one else's eyes  really mattered, did they?

      Prime cuts. That was what Toto wanted: sirloin,  porterhouse, rib roast,
 pork chops, lamb chops, hams,  delicate little links of sausage. He was lost
 in a happy  dream.   

      Presently, the day grew cooler and the little dog  moved on. He met a fox
 crouched by the ditch, but beyond  wary eyes, neither acknowledged the other.
 Toto didn't want  to hunt for mice, but it looked like he might have to, or
  keep moving. 

      Later, he passed a crossroad and then grew aware he  was coming up behind
 a boy carrying a sack. Now this was a  possibility. To snatch, to beg, maybe
 the boy would feel  sorry for him if he walked on three legs. Toto decided his
  best course would be to get adopted as a sort of temporary  pet. Eat dinner,
 get some rest. The boy's mother wouldn't  let him keep the little dog,
 especially after she saw him  water her flowers. He would be on his way again
 early next  morning. 

     He worked his way up until he was walking directly under the sack. Whatever
 was in it didn't smell interesting, Rocks, Toto thought.  Toto was beginning
 to think the boy wasn't too bright. Finally the boy noticed him trotting along
 at his side.

     "Wow! It's a little dog! Hi fella, where did you come from?"

     They both stopped in the middle of the unpaved road, under the clear sky
 and the lowering sun, and looked at each other. Toto did his best. He looked up
 with his head tilted a little to one side, after a moment he tilted it the
 other way. He tried to give the impression that he would be glad to talk, if
 only he hadn't taken a vow of silence some years ago. The boy accepted that
 and told the dog that people called him Ricky but his secret name was Dark
 Swordsman. Toto looked off into the distance as if to say that the secret was
 safe with him.

     "Are you lost?" Ricky asked. He knew all the dogs that lived nearby, and it
 was obvious that Toto wasn't like any of them.  "Come on home with me, I'll
 find you something to eat. Do you want a potato?" He reached into the sack and
 pulled out a small dusty potato. Toto sniffed at it dubiously and looked back
 up at Dark Swordsman. "No? OK, let's find something else." 
     Toto liked the boy. He'd only just met him and already the boy had offered
 him what he had. He did hope there was something better to be had than raw


 potatoes. As the two walked along, the shadows grew a little longer and the
 air grew marginally cooler. The boy chattered on about Dark Swordsman,
 drew up short and looked at Toto.

     "I know! You can be the Dog of Danger! That'll be great." It was OK with
 the little dog. As they walked along, Ricky chattered on about Dark Swordsman
 and his Dog of Danger. They turned into a lane leading to a small farm. It was
 old and run down, Children were running around in the front yard.

     Toto thought, "Uh-oh. Hard times."
 A woman came up to them. She took the sack from Ricky. He said , "Meet the
 dog of danger. He's a good little guy, you'll like him."

     "I don't know, I don't think we can spare enough to keep a stray dog. I'll
 make your dinner now. Why don't you get washed up."

     Ricky was dejected. Toto, meanwhile, had seen a large mouse peeking out.
 He forgot about Ricky. ARF! Pounce. Got he! There's another. Arf! Pounce.
 They are all over. Arf! Pounce. Arf! Pounce. Arf! Pounce. In a couple of
 minutes, Toto had about a dozen little bodies around.

     Hey! Wheeeee! Look at the little dog go! The children gathered to watch the
 excitement. Ricky, meanwhile, had a big grin fastened on his face. His dad
 came by and saw what a fine job Toto was doing at cleaning the farm from
 vermin. When the family went in to dinner, Ricky brought out a bowl for the
 Dog of Danger, potatoes with gravy and some bacon left over from breakfast. 

     Toto felt good. Ricky was happy. Early next morning , Toto woke up,
 stretched, had some mouse for breakfast, slipped off and started in the
 direction of Topeka. The wind blew some dust in his face, again. It was a day
 like the day before, long, hot, thirsty, dusty, lonely and boring. He moved
 along with determination. Every so often a low growl could have been heard
 emanating from the little guy's direction.  

     All day, evening saw him walking down a lonely lane, discouraged.
 He sniffed a trace of moisture and looked up. There was that fox again. "Say,"
 began Toto. The fox bolted. Off and fast away he ran. Toto had to give chase.
 Arf, arf, arf. He ran away from the road and up a hill. Arf, Arf,  Oohh. The
 race was on. Arf. Ooohh. Arf. Ooohh. The two ran over hills and hollows,
 through grass meadows, giving voice the whole way. Toto wanted to see where
 the fox got the energy to so lavishly spend it, but finally he was
 outdistanced and had to stop and catch his breath. Some little birds had
 lifted their heads with his passage, but they soon quieted down. Where was he?
 Where was Topeka? Oh, yeah, over there. He made his way down the hill and
 started up the next one. No roads out here. Now it was lonelier than ever.
 Winded, at night, out in the field. "00hhh! Wohhoe!!" he howled. Eventually,
 he stumbled onto a farmyard. It was late. Everyone was asleep. He found some
 trash to chew on and settled down to rest a bit.

     Next morning, he heard the screen door slam and Bark! the house dog chased
 him out of the yard. Toto felt better. He seemed to be in more settled
 country. He felt he was near town.  As he walked along he saw more and more
 houses. The town was getting bigger. Oh yeah, this was Topeka.

     He came to a street where there were a few small shops. He had to dodge
 from time to time as the neighborhood attitude towards little stray dogs was
 manifested. He went along looking, and with his nose. Toto turned a corner
 into another street with shops. He saw a dead rat lying in the gutter. He
 smelled something lovely. A little further he saw what he was after, a butcher
 shop. He sniffed around, checked the yard behind the shop, he ran when the
 butcher's boy came running out with a stick. He went back, picked up the rat,
 and made his way with it to the back yard of the butcher shop. Then he lit
 into it fiercely, growls, loud barking, tearing it to bits. The butcher came
 out.

     "oh my. Go! Tear 'm up! Gerry, come see this! This little dog is doing your
 job." Attaboy. Good dog. Those rats are my ruin, tear 'm up. Here's a little
 something."

     He tossed a scrap of steak meat to the little dog. Toto was glad. This was
 working out the way he wanted. He had to kill occasional rats and was adopted
 as the butcher's dog. In summer they couldn't refrigerate enough, so there was
 generally a surplus at the end of the day. Other dogs came to challenge his
 easy life, but he stood his ground with bared fangs.

     Summer gave way to autumn, and Toto heard the butcher people talking
 about... Turkeys. What to do? He should be getting back, but that would mean
 giving up his heavenly life here. What to do?

     He put off making a decision. The weather grew cooler. He started following
 hoboes around, figuring they knew how to make the most of life's dealing. He
 saw that sometimes they went to the rail yards and hopped a freight train just
 as it was pulling out. Good idea, but tough with his little legs. He dithered
 around a few more days. Then the turkeys started. Shipped in and carried out
 by customers, one at a time. He knew he had to go. He said goodbye to the
 butcher shop and went to the rail yards. He went past the freight trains and
 stopped to look at the passenger terminal. Those trains looked easier to
 board. but a man was always by the door keeping a lookout for stow-aways. He
 hung around for a while. Finally he selected a train that seemed to be going
 in the right direction. While the conductor was helping and old woman aboard,
 he slipped by under her skirts. Once aboard he slipped out and lay under a
 seat. The train blew it's whistle and started to move. "This is the life,"
 thought Toto. At the end of the day people started to get up and make their
 way to the dining car. "Aahh," thought Toto. He started to worm his way in
 the same direction.

     "Now hold on there. Where do you think you are going. Let me see your
 ticket." The conductor was standing over him with a frown on his face. Toto
 did his helpless act. The conductor's tone softened. "Now there, take it easy.
 You must be a very hairy little boy. Is your family in the dining car?"Toto
 just stood silently. "Well run along then, and stay with your folks." Toto
 slipped into the dining car. A little dog begging at table on a train wasn't
 common, but enough people were glad to help. The little dog thought travelling
 was OK. After dinner was done serving, Toto went back to the seat he had been
 cowering under. That night the train stopped at a small town in eastern
 Kansas. Toto stirred awake and became aware that this was the town near
 Dorothy's farm. He started to bark. The conductor and another man came. They
 talked together a moment and then teamed up on the little dog and threw him
 off the train just as it was starting to pull out.

     Toto was feeling smug and self-satisfied. A fine summer adventure, a free
 ride, and now here he was less than ten miles from home. He started out
 towards the farm. Night changed to day and he kept on. He wanted to get home
 before Dorothy missed him. A truck was coming up the road. Toto crouched at
 the roadside. The truck stopped.

     "Toto! How you been? It's good to see you again." It was Dorothy, just
 coming home for the Thanksgiving recess. Toto leaped into her open arms and 
she climbed into the truck. The two together, happily went back to the farm.

John Devecis
Litchfield  '96