Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.

Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast: A Chapter Each Day

Bit 13, The goodbye van.

On Boxing Day, there was a most unusual occurrence in Jensen St, Edge Hill. Bitssy and Marmalade, in the front yard, were playfully teasing a cheeky little willy wag tail. The tiny black and white bird appeared to be jealously guarding a swarm of termites disrupted by a tropical storm and was most upset by the presence of a cat and dog in her vicinity.

Although Marmalade may have caused a real threat by fortune of being an advanced feline hunter, he was far too obese and lazy to take on tree climbing or termite tasting! And Bitssy, well, she couldn't hurt a flea. She just wanted to play, to be happy, to be free.

The little willy waggy was dive-bombing the friends every time they approached the front fence. In delight they would pretend run away frightened, hide behind a shrub, wait until the waggy settled, and then dash for the fence again. It was a great game. Great, that was, until Marmalade spotted Caramel staring at Bitssy hungrily from the roadside of the fence.

"That's right, Caramel," hissed the cat. "You stay on that side of the fence. You're not
welcome here. Stay there and make like you’re a termite mound. Be sort of enjoyable to see your antics when a termite crawls up your nostril."

Bitssy remained playing. She paid no heed of Caramel, felt no fear, and certainly did not have any hatred toward the poor yellow dog. However, Bitssy had noticed a white, smoke blowing van coming up the road toward them. Bitssy was fairly sure she recognised the smell of the disgusting pollution billowing from the exhaust but why would Caramel sniff onto anything that Bitssy attempted to warn her about?

Whereas Bitssy had no hard, bitter feelings toward Caramel, the same could not be said for Marmalade. That little orange imp sat as close to Caramel as the sparsely placed front wooden rickety picket fence (held together by rope and reef knots) would allow and gingerly licked the fur all over the inside of his back legs. Right in his private area! Elegance was not on the menu, but a hairball was! Yes, Marmalade, right beside Caramel's mangy head, coughed and coughed and gurgled. Caramel looked down her snout, disgustedly, at Marmalade just at the exact same moment that a slimy, stinky, stuck fur ball loosed from Marmalade’s innards and landed, fair between Caramel’s eyes.

"Why you filthy mongrel cat. I'm going to..."

"Got ya!" Down came the dogcatcher’s steel collar and stick. Click went the lock as she was reefed away from the fence and jarred into a dog cage. Terrified was Caramel. She squirmed and wiggled and tried to escape.

"Been chasing you for years, ya ugly mutt. Lucky for me that lady at 222 told me all about ya savaging her dog an’ threaten’en them kids. Figured you'd be caught off guard today, the day that all you mongrels think I'm going to put me stick up and drink left over Santa beers while I listen to the cyclone watch. Off to the pound for you now. And nobody's gonna come get you, cause you gotta be the most miserable excuse for a dog I've eva seen. Even them so called owners there in that house across the road don’t care about ya. Ugly stinkin thing, aren’t ya, under all ya pretty looks? Now get in me van. Ahhhh, ya filthy bugga. Ya peed all over me boot."
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.

Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.

Eulogy.

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