Dogsitting (Part 1)

I will be starting a story as my new series. Please read the parts in order; it really won't make sense otherwise.

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"Josh, don't give me that look. You got yourself into this mess. You screwed up and now you're being punished. Besides, you hardly know your great-grandfather. This will be good for you," Mrs. Dirds reproached her son.

"Whatever. I just want to get this over with."

"I will be back in two weeks. Tell Great-Grandpa we send him love!" Josh slammed the door of the car and trudged up to the front door of the old victorian mansion. He looked for a doorbell, but upon not finding one, knocked, exasperated. His knock was answered after the third time by a middle aged maid with red hair.

"Thank god you're here. I'm going on vacation for the first time in four years; I'm going to see my niece in Florida," she pulled a suitcase behind her as she walked out the door, "Mr. Henderson is in the study, first door on the left. Good fucking luck kid." She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her oversized sweater as she slid into a beat-up gray van. Sighing, Josh entered the house; the moment he closed the door behind him, he was thrown to the floor. A giant German Shephard was on top of him, sniffing him over, while a small golden retriever investigated the pockets of his coat. As he slowly sat up, he felt his left shoe being pulled away from his foot in quick short tugs. Before he could even recover his senses, a small black dog was running off down the hall with his shoe.

"Hey! Come back with that!" he started to run after the dog, but he heard a hoarse, but commanding voice call,

"Joshua? I'm in here!" Groaning, Josh opened the door to the study. It wasn't a large room, but it made its impact. The walls were a dark red and covered with shelves of books. The light filtering in through the grimy windows fell on rich mahogany floors. His great-grandfather was seated in a large chair by a fireplace stroking the head of a stately, as well as enormous, gray speckled Great Dane. Mr. Henderson was a fragile looking man; it was obvious his health was not what it used to be. However, his clothes were sharp, his hair was combed perfectly, and his eyes portrayed strength and pride. "Come closer. And stop slouching."

Josh stepped forward into the room, automatically straightening his posture. The dogs pushed their way in. Mr. Henderson snapped his fingers and the dogs quickly sat at his feet. Looking around, he asked sharply, "Where's the puppy?" Looking over his grandson, he added, "And where's your left shoe? Or are you kids only wearing the right ones now?" The Great Dane let out a deep and ominous bark. Within minutes, a black labroador puppy skidded into the room, pulling the shoe along by the laces. He took his place by the other dogs.

"Here you go. Keep your laces tight, or he'll steal them both next time," his great-grandfather tossed the shoe with disgust, "And comb your hair before dinner. That mop needs a haircut too. Well, we'll get to all that in a minute. I am your great-grandfather. You may call me Sir. These are the dogs. Beauregard is the great dane, Charlie is the german shepard, and the little golden is Miss Daisy. The puppy here is Max. Follow my orders to the T concerning them, or I assure you they will make you regret being born. You will learn the protocol soon enough; there's really not that much to know. Oh, and I've written up a list of things for you to do over the next two weeks," he handed him a typed list from a side table. Josh's eyes widened in horror.

"I have to do all...all of this...in one week?" Josh stammered.

"Yes, of course," and the old man's face lit up with a grim smile, "And you will, or I will make you stay here until you do."

"That's not fair! We had a deal! Two weeks, that's it, remember?"

"I don't make deals with terrorists."

"I'm not a terrorist! I got drunk at a party!"

"Same thing." Josh stared at the old man, who looked pleased with himself.

"Welcome to hell sonny."