The man didn’t like dogs. He’d never liked them. And they didn’t like him either.

They were so snappy and aggressive. They had big teeth and made intimidating noises deep in their chests. Noises that rumbled until they exploded in an ear-splitting bark. You never knew where you were with dogs. If you looked them in the eye, they bristled and became hostile. But if you didn’t look at them, you didn’t know where they were or what they were doing.

Thank goodness Jamie didn’t own a dog. It was bad enough that she had cats. He didn’t mind cats quite so much, though. They were just like rats or pigeons. He hadn’t minded those either. But dogs were another story. Such suspicious animals. So aggressive towards anyone who was just going about his business.

The big yellow dog that lived next to Jamie was one of the worst. It not only barked when the man went near its gate, but when he went near Jamie’s. The stupid animal had no discrimination. It was going to be a positive pleasure to get rid of it.

The man took pride in his work, but this job was going to be extra special. It was fortunate that the dog was allowed out in the street so much. That made his part much easier. Most people kept their dogs locked up behind gates and high walls. It was unusual to find one that was allowed to roam the streets. Probably an American affectation on the part of the neighbour.

Boo hoo. Poor dog. Can’t keep it locked up all day. Must give it some freedom.

Today the American would find out what the price of that freedom was.

He watched the dog trotting up and down the street, sniffing at this and that, and setting all the other dogs in the neighbourhood to hysterical barking. He had the food inside his bag. It was just a matter of time before the dog smelled it and came over to investigate. Shielded by his favourite clump of bushes, the man opened the bag he was carrying and began to make preparations. There would be no time to practise as he had with the rats. He had to get it right first time. God bless the internet. You could ask it any question at all. Like, how much Dormicum you needed to knock out a fifty kilogram dog. There was your answer at the click of a button. Wonderful.

It was stressful, though. He worried about the dog turning vicious went it woke up. What if it bit him? He shivered. Dogs were horrible to touch at the best of times. They made his flesh crawl. One of his earliest memories was of his mother gripping his hand and forcing him to touch a dog, puzzled by his reluctance.

Whose dog would it have been? Certainly not theirs. They’d never had a dog. It was thought to be a bad idea after what had happened to the white mice. He doubled over as a sudden convulsion of mirth gripped him. Oh, those mice. That had been fun. He took out the extra-strong, extra-long cable ties he’d bought with him, and laid them next to his knife. This would be his first time working with a ceramic knife. They were supposed to be extremely sharp.

He’d mixed the powdered Dormicum carefully into the dogfood, confident that he’d calculated exactly the right amount of food to guarantee that the dog ate it all up.

There was no one around as usual. Another giggle shook him. Talk about hiding in plain sight. If you wanted to do anything in secret, all you had to do was pick a quiet suburban street.

He made clucking noises at the dog as he’d heard other people do. It trotted over to him, looking at him through milky eyes. Then he put the food down and watched as the dog began to eat.

––––––––––

Pumla was in an excellent mood.

As Jamie came through the door, Pumla grabbed her by the hands and led her into a dance that was either Zorba the Greek or the traditional Swazi reed dance.

“We did it!” she crowed. “We did it at last!”

Jamie stumbled and almost fell. “Who? Who did what?”

“It! We! Us! Dumisani and me. We went out again last night, remember?”

“This must be the fifth time you’ve gone out on a date with…” Then the penny dropped and her eyes widened. “Ohhh! It! You and Dumisani. You mean you’ve done it at last.”

Pumla nodded until her long earrings jangled.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” said Jamie. “I was starting to think there was something wrong with the guy. They normally fall all over themselves to get at you. So … how was it?”

She tied on an apron while waiting for her partner to spill the beans. Normally Pumla gave new meaning to the term “too much information”. But this time she smiled a cat-like smile.

“Let’s just say I’ve got no complaints. I won’t be writing to the manufacturer asking for a refund, if you get my drift.”

“I get it, I get it. But what about Dumisani? Now that you’ve finally done it, has he stopped calling like you predicted?”

Pumla’s lips tightened. “No. That’s the only downside. He’s just as keen as ever. I don’t think he got the memo about how guys are supposed to go off you once they’ve slept with you. He’s been calling and texting all morning.”

“What a bastard!”

Pumla let the sarcasm wash over her. “I know, right? We’re supposed to be the clingy ones. You’d think he’d know that. Anyway, I’ll still be able to shake him off.”

“Maybe you should wait a bit. You know, in case you need to do it again.”

“Do what again?”