Didn't take too long 'fore I found out,
What people mean by down and out.
Spent my money, took my car
Started telling her friends she gon' be a star.
I don't know, but I been told
A big-legged woman ain't got no soul.
All I ask for, all I pray
Steady rolling woman gonna come my way.
Need a woman gonna hold my hand
Won't tell me no lies
Make me a happy man.
----Led Zeppelin----Black Dog
On the cobblestone streets of London he stumbled. It was foggy, but not so foggy as his mind. His clothes were tattered and so was his heart. Lord Louie was short on hope. Lady Jane Northumberland,
lady in waiting to the Queen, had turned him down flat. His proposal of marriage had failed to fly just like a led zeppelin. So now after nights of gaming and whoring he stood dissipated, lonely
and forlorn, trying to remember his opium dream from the night before.
He remembered the black dog. That and a sparkling golden stream. What was it? Was it about the money? The money he squandered at the races at Ascot? The thousands of pounds sterling he’d lost at
cards? The black dog was repaying him. That was it! A sparkling stream of gold sovereigns tumbling down about his feet. It was a good sign.
He straighten his tie and his collar, rubbed his boots against the back of his pants, took a breath and headed into the west end in search of the dog.
After passing the flower sellers and buskers outside of the National Theatre, he spotted it. It was a Labrador, all black and friendly. A man and a Gentleman’s best friend! It saw him at once and
It sniffed him and smiled a doggie smile. He fondly patted him on his head. He noticed the collar around his neck. This dog of fortune was no stray! The collar was fine English leather, the tag was
of silver. He must be lost, or jumped out of some fine carriage. That was it.
This dog would bring him good fortune no doubt!
He peered down the street and noticed a black carriage with a coat of arms on the door but it couldn’t be read at that angle.
As he was looking he noticed something odd, not a thought but a feeling. A warm sort of feeling on his leg. A warm sort of wet feeling. You’ve got it!
The dog was peeing on Lord Louie’s leg!
Out damn spot!
The carriage door opened. A fine delicate gloved hand appeared and beckoned with a crook of a most feminine finger. Now the coat of arms could be read. It was the house of Northumberland.
Lucky Lord Louie has a sudden reversal of fortune. He also obtains a wet leg.
Even a lady in waiting can change her mind.
© Copyright 2016 Steven Hunley. All rights reserved.