Howlaree

I had a deja vu moment a few months ago when, having succumbed to a doze on the settee following a vigorous spate of gardening (Perry Babblebrook's horticultural endeavours must have inspired me), I opened my eyes to see a member of the Seadog family regarding me. It wasn't Horatio this time; the wry grin and whiskered face belonged to his brother Amos. And this time there wasn't an accompanying mysterious boy in a hooded coat.

 "Hello Jack. Sorry to wake you, but your boy Brendan sent me through. He's gone to fetch Cecile."

"Oh hi, Amos. Seeing you here has just given me a flashback to when Horatio brought Orton to us."

"Ha! I haven't seen the lad in a couple of months. He used to pop in to visit us at the snack bar fairly regularly when he first arrived, although I suppose he's busy with his friends these days."

"He's definitely settled, Amos." I stretched and looked at dapper dog before me. Tailed coat, shiny buttons, experience shining in his eyes, this nautical dog spent more time ashore these days, working at the docks. The moss green tinged scar on his forehead and permanent discolouration of the adjacent whiskers were evidence of his more adventurous younger days when he fell foul of a spiny grindlefish.

"Ah, that's as it should be. Deep little chap. Horatio's got a soft spot for him," he smiled before raising a paw as if to make a point, "as he has for all your family. That's why I'm here."

"Go on."

"I'll wait 'til Cecile comes through to tell you both, if that's okay. But I will say it's about his birthday. It's a special one."

o 0 O 0 o

It seemed Horatio didn't want his special birthday to be public knowledge and trusted us not to share the fact. It wasn't that he had a problem getting older. He simply didn't want the fuss that doggy traditionalists associated with certain birthdays. There were a few Mellowdenians that fit this profile. I should explain.

I suppose it's a race thing. Rabbits tend to like big families. Cats often enjoy displaying a degree of independence - Merlin highlighted that in his story of Hawkshade. Dogs... well they often like to enjoy pack activities. Doing things with other dogs. I'm not saying they're antisocial with the rest of us; far from it. It's hard to find a friendlier group when interacting with the vast range of critters here. And yet most Mellowdenian dogs don't live in the middle of the village. They visit frequently but their homes are mainly in the grasslands found downstream in the county. Plenty of space to run about, play stickball and other canine activities.

There are exceptions. Notably the Seadogs live in the village, although Horatio's voyages do take him away periodically. Also, I should mention Kelly and Millie Bassett who run the boarding house - but even they foster a range of other young dogs.

Maybe Horatio's nautical wandering is a symptom of avoiding too many pack activities? Oh, I don't know. I do know that his family had agreed to downplay the significance of his birthday and hold a quiet family dinner. At some point Horatio thought it might be nice if Cecile and I attended. This probably gave his wife Jane the idea to ask Cecile to make her husband a birthday cake - the main reason for Amos's visit - so that the event was at least marked in some way.

Every seven years (an ansept in their terminology), a dog's birthday is considered special. The reasons seem unclear but the traditionalists celebrate it with numerous activities, more extensive each time. And Horatio's birthday this year was the sixth of these anseptal events that usually culminated with a "Howlaree". The seventh ansept would be huge, but the sixth would still give rise to a significant Howlaree.

o 0 O 0 o

"What's a Howlaree?" asked Orton. He had wandered into the room without us noticing. We had sent Brendan on an errand to stop him earwigging and Beverley was working at the library, but we had forgotten Orton was due back from playing with the Clearwaters.

"It's a grown-up thing," said Amos, then in an attempt to change the subject, "It's good to see you, Orton. We've missed you at the snack bar. Oscar Marmalade was asking how you are."

"Mm," said Orton, "Good, thanks." He fixed the Seadog brother with an open-eyed expression I was coming to recognise. He wouldn't be distracted, but he knew well enough when he wasn't going to get an answer and when to walk away from his battles. "Never mind, Mister Amos. Did you say it was going to be the Captain's birthday soon? I'd like to buy him a present. I've got some pocket money."

"That's lovely," said Cecile. "Why don't you go and see Aunt Eliza to see if she has any suggestions?"

Orton switched his gaze to Cecile. I had no doubt that the boy knew he was being dismissed. He didn't complain, though. He simply gave a happy little nod. "I'll do that. Although Uncle Merlin might have a better idea. I can ask him when he comes home from work."

After he had left, Amos inclined his head towards the door. "Definitely a deep little chap. How much do you think he heard?"

"I don't know," I said, "but he's not a blabbermouth. Now if it had been Brendan..."

Cecile laughed. "...it would be cheaper than an advert in the Mellowdene Examiner.

Amos smiled, but his eyes betrayed his wavering confidence.

I met his gaze. "Do you want me to have a word with him?"

"No Jack, it'll be alright." He stood, ready to leave, turning to Cecile. "So I'll tell Jane that you're okay doing the cake? Good. She'll telephone with the arrangements."

o 0 O 0 o

Cecile did a good job. It began with telephone discussions with Jane but given we are close neighbours they realised it was easier to chat in person. At some point both Cecile and I were officially invited to the meal. We were asked not to dress up which I took to be further confirmation that the event wasn't to draw attention.

The day arrived and it was mid afternoon we walked along the upper curve of East Dock Lane to Horatio and Jane's house. The cake had preceded us the day before so were able to amble along and enjoy the weather.

Rough map that shows Horatio's house in relation to Butterglove House

We were the only attendees other than Horatio, Jane, their daughter Suzanne, and the three brothers. Amos let us into the house and we joined the family in their dining kitchen. Irwin was joking with a giggling Suzanne and Owen was helping Jane with the last part of the dinner. Horatio was at the head of the table, a paper hat atop his head.

 He waved at us. "Cecile. Jacky boy. Glad to have you here."

"Honoured, Horatio," said Cecile, "and Happy Birthday." She addressed the busy woman by the stove. "Are we on time, Jane? And can I help?"

Jane said she didn't need additional assistance but welcomed some adult female conversation. Owen laughed, commenting, "Apparently I'm not girly enough, Cecile."

I smiled and moved towards the Captain. "Fashionable headwear, Horatio. I believe the best sailors are wearing conical hats, these days."

"Suzanne insisted. She said it wouldn't be a proper birthday otherwise. Especially since I made it clear that Fenton Barker wouldn't be providing me with a birthday cake."


I'd already been warned that Cecile's cake would be a surprise, so I didn't want to spoil the surprise by revealing that Amos had explained why Fenton hadn't been approached. I reacted accordingly. "Why is that? I would have thought that his role in the snack bar and in the ship's galley would have made him perfect."

"He's a Barker. His family - like their neighbours - like the pack traditions. I don't know if you're aware, but today is my sixth ansept. If those dog families found out my age, I'd likely be faced with a Howlaree."

"And that's not good?"

"Being taken to the grassland, dancing around a bonfire, being sung at, not to mention the body paint... no. Not for me."

Amos took a seat. "He wouldn't like it, Jack. I was lucky that we were at sea when I reached this age. Even so, Fenton insisted on howling and singing at me. No paint though. I threatened to tip him overboard."

Jane walked up and rubbed Horatio's shoulders. "So that's why we're having a more sedate celebration. A meal with good friends."

Owen tapped his nose, trying to catch my eye. "And maybe a couple of games of Jindik afterwards?"

"We'll see," said Jane. "If you want to take your seats, dinner's ready."

o 0 O 0 o

The meal was lovely and tasty.  The conversation was light and humorous, ensuring that Suzanne wasn't excluded. When Cecile's cake was revealed we all cheered and I thought I saw a hint of a tear of happiness in Horatio's eye.
 

We chatted about village life and of Gordon Doughty's forays into mobile catering. Using his Hamburger Wagon was proving a success, especially since he'd established business connections with Marion Brighteyes at the Blackcurrant Café. Making use of freelance chef Sawyer Honeydew was inspired.

The relaxed company was truly enjoyable. Irwin was telling jokes - not all of them that good - but if you're in the right frame of mind and in the right company, anything can be funny. We were all laughing when the doorbell rang. Suzanne volunteered to go and see who it was.

She returned accompanied by Orton.

He walked up to Horatio, brandishing a brown parcel. "Happy birthday, Captain. It's not much but I hope you like it. It's a thank you for bringing me to my family."

Cecile turned away and wiped an eye. Horatio's brothers smiled at each other, and Jane came forward and kissed him on top of his head.

Horatio took the parcel and stared at it. "Why, thank you lad. I didn't expect..."

"Open it, dad," said Suzanne.

The Captain took a deep breath. "O' course." He carefully ripped open the wrapping paper to reveal a small blue model boat, then stared at it, speechless for a while.

"Thank you, lad. That's... grand as anything."

Orton turned to me. "Tam Tailbury had an extra one in his collection and he let me buy it."

I smiled like an idiot, touched at Orton's act of gratitude.

He next turned to Amos.

"And don't worry Mister Amos. Whilst I was at Tam's place I asked Mrs Hunter-Smyth about Howlarees. I know what they are, now."

o 0 O 0 o

Later, after returning home, we had discussed Orton's visit to the Seadog household.

"We should have told him about Howlarees straight off and asked him to keep quiet about it," Cecile had said.

"Probably," I had replied, "but maybe we're worrying about nothing, Cessie."

"Hmm," she said in her non-committal way.

The uncertainty was resolved later when we were preparing to go to bed, when I heard something. A low sound that gradually grew louder. A sound that became identifiable as many voices howling in a variety of pitches.

I went to the window, trying to look over the foliage into Dandelion Lane.

Before long, I saw a procession of torch-carrying dogs.

As they passed on their way to East Dock Lane the howls resolved into song...

Hooowwwwllll - a reason for a pack to sing
Hooowwwwllll - a reason for our ears to ring
Hooowwwwllll - a reason on this ansept day
To celebrate that we are dogs and we are on our way... to

Horatio! For he's the one we honour,
Horatio! Yes, he's the reason why, 
Horatio! That we'll be soon upon a
plot of land to mark him as the one 
that we will raise up high...

The voices dwindled.

"Are they carrying body paints?" Cecile asked.

"Can't see, love. But it doesn't matter. Either way they'll be disappointed when Jane tells them her husband took the Marita May downriver a couple of hours ago."

"So I would imagine." She patted the bedcovers.

"Come to bed, Jack."

o 0 O 0 o