by Eolake Stobblehouse
"Mohawk," said the poodle.
Barber-Bill turned and stared. There was no one else in his barber shop, only the poodle. Small, black, intense-looking creature.
Bill put down the razor he was sharpening and tried to address no one in particular while still addressing the dog; "Pardon me," he said.
"You heard me," said the poodle, and Bill noticed that it was not moving its mouth. "Mohawk. Now." And it jumped up on a chair.
A big Doberman pinscher walked into the shop, and Bill thought he saw two more patrolling the sidewalk outside. He decided not to argue about dog trimmers as differentiated from barbers, and said: "One mohawk, coming up."
The mayor was having a dump over the side of the small rowing boat. His personal secretary was acting as counter-weight on the opposite side. The fact that the secretary was having to strain quite a bit, what with his much slighter bulk, was lost on the mayor. You just can't hurry a man having his dump, and he was reading the paper.
Then his cell phone rang in the fishing case, playing Star Spangled Banner. The mayor did nothing for a few rings, and then looked pointedly at his aide. "Do you intend to get that for me, Oakes?" he said. Oakes, already sweating, decided not to argue about physics, and valiantly attempted to fetch the phone for the mayor while still leaving his weight behind on the side of the boat. He didn't quite succeed, and when the mayor answered the call, it was with a wet butt and a lot of colorful language.
"Damn you Oakes. I'll...
"Damn, can't you people handle anything by yourselves? Don't you know I'm on vacation? A what? Terrorist attack? Well, you...
"What? Dogs? A poodle?... Have you been drinking? Stop yelling, for Pete's sake, pull yourself together man! Is Amanda there, I want to talk to her.
"She is doing what?! With a dog? Listen, I am going to hang up, and I suggest you go home and sleep it off, OK?
"Listen to what?...
"Yes, I guess that is Amanda's voice. And never mind how I know what she sounds like doing that.
"Fuck you for incompetents. I'll be in this afternoon. At least keep a tight lid on this, all right?"
The mayor started cleaning himself up. "Oakes, pack the gear. We are going back. It seems the Dog Days are early this year."
The mayor strode majestically into the entrance hall of the Town Hall, and intended to stride majestically past the assembled press, but slipped in a dog doo-doo on the marble floor. Now with a pain in his butt, and shit on his suit, he was surrounded and gave in.
"Gentlemen of the press... Yes, ladies too, whatever... I don't know too much about the situation yet, but it appears... that Town Hall has been occupied... by dogs.
"QUIET! Dogs, yes. Their leader seems to be a poodle. He seems to be telepathic. Maybe they all are.
"Leaving aside the question of whether science recognizes intelligent, telepathic dogs... Maybe they just haven't met them yet... The question uppermost on your minds probably is how and why we have not been able to subdue a bunch of mere dogs. ...Well, about this I know even less, but it seems that they have more than just telepathy, they also have some sort of mind-control powers, or at least mind-influencing powers, including a very strong cross-species attraction to the opposite sex.
"Now, if you don't mind, I have a crisis to attend to."
"Goddammit, Oakes, get some clothes on yourself, will you? Don't you have matters to handle?"
Oakes looked up with glazed eyes from the couch where he was slumped, playing idly with himself. "Huh? ... Does it matter? The dogs don't wear any."
The mayor flew into a rage. "That may be, but you and I are not dogs! We are human beings, and we should wear clothes!" He stomped over to Oakes and threw his clothes on top of him, and slapped him in the face. "Snap out of it, for god's sake!" Oakes didn't react much, except to concentrate slightly more on playing with himself.
The mayor hit the wall hard with a closed hand, denting the panelling. He slumped to the floor, sitting against the wall.
Fifi came walking through the door. "Chief is annoyed by your loud thoughts," she thought at him. "He say you too tense. Fifi help you relax." And she turned and lifted her tail.
The mayor reached out and fondled her. "Perhaps you are right," he said. "Nothing good comes from being angry." He started unbuttoning his pants.
The camera zoomed in on the news woman. Her ample breasts were under powdered and shone a bit in the harsh lights.
"First off we have good news, dear viewers. The United Dog Nations today signed up country number one hundred, Denmark. It is only fourteen months since all these nations were under the oppressive human-only rule, and Dog President Chief Mohawk states that the target for the liberation of the entirety of the Earth is the end of next year. We have an interview with our beloved leader later on.
"In related news... hrrm. Excuse me..." the news woman leans forward, her nipples brushing the table top, and laps at the water bowl on her table, with the name "Ginger" stenciled on it.
The mayor's widow stands looking out the picture window of the manor at her late husband's body impaled on the gate. She sighs.
"I don't care what they say. I still miss him."
"Indeed, my dear. I understand completely. He was a good man. A powerful man." Chief Mohawk stands on the table the better to look out the window. He shakes his famous mohawk haircut, which he recently playfully had taken to having dyed green. He had thought about placing a few Sex Pistols posters conspicuously around during interviews in his home, but had decided that no one would get the reference these days. "But he was also an unwise man, in some ways. He did not know when he was beat, and he clung to his old speciesist ways. I can't honestly claim that this was for his own good, but it was definitely for the good of the rest of us." He poked his nose under the widow's skirt, and she giggled.
"But... would you have done the same with a dog? You say that humans are just animals like the rest..."
"Yes of course I would. All animals are equal, after all."
She giggled more. "But some animals are more equal than others. You are so funny, Mohie!"