Wednesday, January 8, 2014

The Emperor's Dog

This was a short story I wrote for fun --- felt it needed a small audience.  Written as a sequel to 'The Emperor's New Cloths'.  Just a fun take off.

Duke; Duke was his name.  Known as practically heir to the throne, all eyes and ears were laid upon this fine hairy specimen, class of Kingship.  His soft coat of reddish tanned fur was groomed every morning before breakfast while the emperor had his fine linen laden upon his skin, clean and fresh as the morning air which came in throughout the palace windows.  Servants prepared splendorous garments before him to chose which would suit; Duke had always the same coat of soft fur.  Not always did it take as long as this morning, as countless morning have passes relatively the same way, for they spent their lives together thus far and forever the same.  All the same, the emperors dog would wait patiently long after this coat was coiffed, waiting seated for his emperor to finish his own.  Often one would wonder, from a dogs perspective, why such labor.  He figured it was for the fact that most people had not enough hair to risk the changes in the weather; perhaps it was shame.  Perhaps to hide their skin from the animals, or perhaps to be decorated with designs they adorn; all in all, it was not of concern to the Duke.   He would simply sit patiently.  The emperor would look over so often to question his appearance to the dog, and as always, the Duke hadn't a reply.  Finally upon a short bow of the head, he emperor would signal his finish so that they could continue on throughout the day; the dog always by his side where permitted.  There were never a moment when contentment left Duke; he always knew things were how they were supposed to be.  The emperor had many roles the play; and as the day progressed, his garments would change from one to another.  His moods would change depending on whom was present, but the dog always the same.  All the emperors acquaintances addressed the dog with a fond smile.  Duke knew he was treated abnormally well, but that was just part his role as the emperors dog.  Not all dogs in the city would have the same role, neither were they able to change coats.  All dogs though bore their parts in culture just the same; they all fulfilled unique needs.  Some did not even have owners, but they were cared for by the city folk much the same way.  There were many things the emperors dog seen in his life. Although he was confined to the palace life, his eyes were sharp and his senses even sharper to the city below.  The emperor was wise but had to rely sometimes on the dogs sense of discernment.  They certainly did not speak the same language, but there were many nights when they had shared what seemed to be fluent conversations with no words needed; just a mind full of questions and only time to tell.
The next morning, the commotion began before even the dog began to wake.  A slew of well mannered people came in carrying on as the servants would, catering to the emperors dressing needs - but low and behold, he stood there naked. This certainly came with a surprise as the dog quickly awakened to his feet, knowing this seemed to be an exceptionally different day.  The ladies whom would normally groom him, instead had all attention laid on the emperor, even though they tried not to.  Duke sat before the emperor watching and waiting as the mannered men carried out tasks that seemed like dressing, but the emperor had no cloths.  They bowed and admired hum all the more though.  When the he emperor addressed the dogs opinion, this time Duke bowed to the emperors true appearance.  The emperor smiled richly as he bowed before Duke as well in return, almost as if admitting a sense of equality.  This has never happened before.  Perhaps the emperor finally understood he had no cloths; perhaps he knew no cloak could change his appearance. Perhaps he trusted Duke's sense of 'dog discernment'.  Perhaps he trusted Duke's sight better then his own; he see things the emperor did not see.  Maybe others seen whatever they wanted to see of the emperors skin.   As of that moment though, what mattered most - no matter what the Emperor wore, they were both comfortable in their skins.  As they walked through the streets together, no one could tell whether Duke was wearing more cloths then the emperor, and it really didn't matter anymore.  Duke knew he had no cloths, and neither did the emperor.