Bozo lives on a farm. The animals also live on farm. The animals live in barn, and people in house.
Now, Ruby is an animal. But she is very special animal. She lives in house. She is a dog.
Not really ordinary dog. Extra extra ordinary. Ruby is a flying dog. But this is for another story to share. Today Bozo just loves Ruby. Because she drooled all over him.
You know how it is getting drooled all over by a dog. As the dog swallowed a glue. You cannot get rid of drool. Grab it with fingers and it sticks to them. Then clean your fingers with your hand. Yes, fingers are clean but drool is stuck to the hand. And so on and so forth until you find beautifully barked beech tree and you use it as a wipe. Now Ruby could jump to the end and just drool all over the beech tree. But no! Bozo is far better handkerchief. In Ruby mind at least.
So how come that Bozo is so glad to be all sticky? Let’s hear about this.
This was one of those days. Everything went askew. Father was in bad mood coming from work. Boss. Mother was in bad mood coming from work. Customers. Bozo was in bad mood coming from daycare. Who else? Janitor.
So everybody came home and they ate in silence. And then Father said: Bozo, now help clean the table. You are old enough to help your mother. And Bozo thinks. You are even older, you help. But sometimes thoughts are spoken aloud. And that is not good. Including today. Father became … red, mothers eyes were wide open. Ruby only stretched.
Ohhh. Such is dog’s life. Ruby has a soft bed in the kitchen. Close to the stove. Her bed is so big that sometimes, when he is so tired, and so dirty, you know, when a person should go under the shower but the thought of water is unpleasant ... Bozo crawls in with Ruby. Ruby only lifts one paw and covers Bozo. One puppy more or less. Mother, of course, shouts. Fleas, ticks, dirt, .... But Bozo likes to cuddle against Ruby.
Ruby doesn’t get people. Dogs see only black-white-gray. Or blue-bright. You open your eyes – day or night. If there is food, and water, and warmth ... why do they argue so much? And again. Father shouts that he works all day. Mother says she does too. Bozo is tired. Do those two not know that the Janitor is terribly exhausting. That you always have to check where he is, and where auntie Jožica is, nosorry Teacher Jožica? What do they even know about the world? Nothing at all. Ruby of course cannot literally understand people. She does not speak human. But she hears anger, and sees sulking. Everything is clear to her. But the world is so simple. Is there food? There is. Is there water? There is. Is it warm? It is. Sowhatstheproblem?
So fathers sens Bozo to bed! Injustice. It is still light outside. And he had just found such a fine forked branch. For a slingshot. But now father will certainly forbid Bozo to use the saw, and he himself will not want to saw it off either. Injustice. Five years is only a number. Bozo feels like he is at least nine! Maybe even ten!
Bozo’s room is old and small and squeezed into the corner of the ground floor of the house. It has a bed, an old cabinet, and a nightstand with a little lamp. It also has a window that looks out onto the yard. On the outside of the window there is an old tree stump. Bozo can climb onto the windowsill, swing himself over, and touch the stump with his toes. Then he can let himself down. But sometimes he misses the stump with the other foot and then crashes full length onto the grass. And he sees all the stars, little birds, and maybe a bumblebee too.
Bozo is angry. Into a little bundle he throws a sweater, underpants (because a person never knows when he will need fresh ones), socks, a string, and a piece of bread left over from yesterday’s dinner. Good thing he cares for hygiene the Bozo way and not Mother’s way. He climbs through the window. Now he will run away. They will be sorry! When he is big and strong and rich, he will come back and tell them ...
Then he leaves. Across the yard, past the stable. And then: bleat bleat. A little goat! Ferdo! Well, now already Ferdinand the goat, but ... When Bozo was three years old, a little goat was born. Father wanted to sell him ... but Bozo cried and cried and cried, and cried Ferdo into staying. Now they are friends. Ferdo is a two-year-old goat who enjoys nothing in the world more than bumping something with his horns. But not Bozo. No no.
He takes him along. He puts a rope around his neck, and off they go, straight down the road. With Ferdo he is safe. Everyone is afraid of Ferdo. The road soon turns into the forest, and Bozo takes the shortcut. The path becomes wetter and wetter, the trees dark and threatening. Bozo sits down, wraps the rope around his hand, and thinks. About this and that, that and this, and his eyes grow heavier and heavier. Suddenly he wakes up. Darkness. Where am I even? What if a wolf comes? Or a bear? Or a 100 kg pig? He pulls Ferdo closer and starts shaking with fear.
So, he falls asleep again and dreams that it is raining. Drip drip drip, it drips on his face. He opens his eyes and sees – Ruby. Her brown eyes, giant nose. Giant ears. Ruby is the best, biggest, and most beautiful Great Dane there is. And now she is with him. You hear that, Ferdo, Ruby is the best. When Ruby puts her paws on father’s shoulders, she is bigger than him.
Ruby turns around, and Bozo follows her, and Ferdo follows them. They walk and walk, and soon they are home.
Mother is crying in the room. Father is on the phone. He is all dirty, because he fell over a root while looking for Bozo. And then ... then ... Ruby steps through the door, and behind her Bozo. Ferdo stays outside.
The quarrel is forgotten, everyone hugs.
People…
And Ruby? She turns toward her people and thinks: how strange they are. Then she curls up on her big bed. She thinks one more thing – about Ferdo stinking. Good thing he went with the little one. Good thing they went through the hole, and she went after him. And good thing dinner is waiting for her. Everything is all right. The roof has no holes. There is water. There is food. And it is warm.