Linton ran to the dresser, reached in and produced a 350 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world!
But before he could use it, the Rottweiler started licking his toesies.
Linton fell to the ground in peels of laughter and the rottie sat on him.
Rottie licked off the previously applied chocolate...
The licking continud; meanwhile Elinor looked sadly on Scout, the small dog beneath her feet, as she began to wonder whether Linton was enjoying himself a little too much.
A shot rang out, and the Rottie fell over, dead.
But who had fired the shot?
It was Elinor; she wanted to gauge Linton's reaction; and Linton wept, and shouted 'the rottweiler never did anything to YOU!)
Scout's shocked eyes looked at Elinor, who was still holding the large gun, then back at the dead Rottie, then back at Elinor, then back at the dead Rotie, then back at Elinor, then back at the gun . . . eventually making himself so dizzy that he collapsed into a heap next to the dead Rottie.
Looking at the two dogs, soft-hearted Linton began to question the wisdom of continuing his relationship with Elinor.
Scout crawled under the bed.
As Linton walked out the door, Elinor turned to the bed and began calling for Scout to come out...but, alas, to no avail.
She threw Scout out of the window, and went back to sleep; he continued to howl: her touch reminded him what things had once been like.
Scout howled, not to gain Elinor's attention, but to mourn the woman he had thought she was...then slowly padded home to Fifi.
"That bitch," he thought.
But Elinor, alone, was pensive too; she missed Scout, and wondered why he wasn't around.
Had shooting the Rottweiler threatened him in some way, she wondered, seeing as how Scout had been in wolf form at the time?
She didn't know;-- she just wanted Scout back in that café, so she could stay with him rather than that... unusual Linton.
Then another thought occurred to Elinor: perhaps Scout was miffed with her for throwing him out the window.
