Read Online My Dog Tulip by J.R. Ackerley - Free Book Online Page A

then turned his back on me.
    The house was large, solid and detached, and that it was probably the right one was indicated, as I pressed the bell, by a short rumble of gruff barks within. Max was then revealed as a heavy, handsome dog with the grave deportment of the old family retainer. His stolid figure silently barred my entry, until a quiet word from his master authorized him to admit me. When I was invited into the sitting-room he followed after and, assuming a dignified posture on the hearth-rug, kept me under close surveillance: the house and its management clearly belonged to him. To have offered him any kind of familiarity, it was plain, would have been as shocking a breach of etiquette as if one had attempted to stroke the butler.
    Mr. Blandish, who was hearty, prosperous, middle-aged and bald, seated himself beside me on the sofa and gave me a cigarette.
    â€œMatches! Matches!” he then exclaimed, in a petulant voice. “Are there no matches in the house!”
    Considerably startled by this outburst, I said soothingly: “Oh, never mind. I think I’ve got some.”
    But before I could begin to fumble, Max had lumbered to his feet and, with a swaying motion of the hips, crossed the room. Picking up an outsize box that was lying on a stool, he brought it to his master. Mr. Blandish accepted it without comment and lighted our cigarettes, while Max stood obsequiously at his elbow.
    â€œThank you, Max,” he then said, in a negligent manner, and handed the box back to the dog, who replaced it on the stool and gravely resumed his watchful position on the rug.
    This unnerving incident was not permitted to interrupt the Blandishes’ flow of polite conversation. They plied me with questions about Tulip and expressed their delight at the projected alliance. They had had Max for six years and had always wished for an opportunity of this kind; his happiness was their only concern in the transaction. These remarks gave me the opening I needed to put the question the vet had advised me to put, but the alarming exhibition of canine sagacity I had just witnessed had so shaken me that I hardly knew how to frame the inquiry in Max’s presence. Avoiding his eye, I stammered:
    â€œThen will this be his first experience of—with the opposite sex? The vet seemed to think there might be difficulties unless—”
    But Mr. Blandish displayed no sense of delicacy.
    â€œOh, you needn’t worry about that!” said he, with a guffaw. “Max knows his oats all right!”
    I coughed.
    â€œHe’s been married before, then?”
    â€œHe’s never been churched, it’s true,” said Mr. Blandish, “but when we were down in the country a couple of years ago, he happened upon a stray bitch in heat—not at all a classy one, either—and had his wicked way with her on the spot. He’ll be delighted to repeat the performance with Tulip, I can assure you!” he added gleefully.
    â€œOh, then that’s all right. It was only that, Tulip being a virgin, the vet thought—”
    â€œLeave it all to me,” said Mr. Blandish gaily. “I’ve got a very reliable little book—not that Max will need to look anything up in it!”
    I was then invited to bring Tulip along for a formal introduction to her betrothed. When I got up to go, Max preceded me into the hall and, interposing his bulk between myself and my hat, required another permissive word from his master before I was able to pick it up, in case, Mr. Blandish explained, I took the wrong one.
    The formal introduction was effected a few days later, and if Tulip failed to make a bad impression on the Blandishes, it was not, I thought, for any want of trying. Of the kind of impression she made on Max there seemed to me no doubt at all. The sound of his throaty rumble as we advanced up the drive announced that he was on duty, and the opening door disclosed him, planted squarely on the threshold