THE CUR: Ginger
Author Note: This fic was written as an addition to Linda's wonderful series about Vin and his errr... dog. With her kind permission, of course.
Follows The Cur, Vin's Dog, Lucky, Fallen Angel and Sent.
I am surrounded by savages. And I am not speaking of the Indians when I say that. I am speaking of my so called compatriots, who lack even the smallest particle of taste or elegance.
Ginger was the perfect name for that dog, whether they cared to acknowledge it or not. Most definitely, it was superior to "Lucky" or "Dog" or...
Hmmm... you know, it just occurred to me that I had a cousin once who owned a dog by the name of Ginger. My cousin's name was Jessamine. Jessie. I stayed with her and my aunt and uncle one summer while mother was in St. Louis. I taught Jessie how to play poker and she taught me how to swim. We used to sneak out of our respective bedrooms and meet at the pond in the evenings, Ginger trailing along at our heels. We thought we were so clever. Looking back, I believe her parents were fully cognizant of our moonlight jaunts. They just chose not to comment on it.
It's rather odd that I failed to remember all this before, when the dog first appeared in town. But I suppose that's where the idea for her name must have derived. The two beasts were identical in color. However, if memory serves me correctly, my cousin's animal was a thoroughbred spaniel and Vin's dog was... well the kindest thing one could say is that she had a rather diverse family tree. Much like her master.
Although I suspect Mr. Tanner's ancestors must have had a touch of blue blood somewhere back in the far reaches of antiquity. Otherwise how could he suddenly put me so much in mind of my cousin, Jessie? No. It must be the long hair. I've informed him numerous times he should remove those barbaric locks of his. But he never listens. None of them do. Savages. I believe I mentioned that earlier?
I recall that my cousin died a few months after mother came and retrieved me in order to further some con she was running in St. Louis. The news reached us just as we were preparing to leave that town. Rather hastily, I might add.
Jessie wanted me to have Ginger, her parents had said in their letter. Mother politely wrote back and told them not to be ridiculous. What on earth would we do with a dog? She was right, of course. Dogs are singularly useless creatures. Which is why I left it to Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Dunne to save this one delectable treats from their plates and attempt slavishly to win her canine affections.
No one can ever say they saw me toss her more than a scrap or two of food or do more than give her a cursory pat on the head. Which was far more than such an unfortunate looking specimen deserved. Although her coat was rather nice underneath all that dust and grime. And she seemed intelligent enough. For a cur.
Despite being a cur, she had several people wooing her for their own purposes, but she liked Vin best. I said she seemed intelligent enough. I said nothing at all about her taste, or lack thereof. The two of them were an oddly resonant pair, however, despite any lack of official acknowledgement on either of their parts. She even managed to make the ultimate sacrafice for him. She displayed the truest measure of friendship. She gave up her life in service of another. Damned stupid dog.
Not that I regret Mr. Tanner's timely rescue. That is not at all the case, I assure you. It just seems that perhaps things could have arranged themselves more satisfactorily. With neither party dead. Then I would not have had to witness young Mr. Dunne's woebegone expressions of grief or Mr. Tanner's tiresome stoicism. And I would not have had to listen to Josiah mutter about fallen angels. As if she were any such thing! She was merely a dog. She was hardly worthy of a second thought, let alone the epithet of angel. There are times I do believe I am the only voice of reason amongst us.
Now where the hell did Josiah say he buried her? I've been stumbling around here for nearly an hour and these flowers are definitely becoming worse for the wear. And if I'm not back soon, the others will begin to wonder where I am. Perish the thought.
Really! Fallen angel! I didn't fall anywhere, I was sent!
END