THE STUFF OF DOGGY NIGHTMARES

It was a dark and stormy night. . The rain came in off the Transylvanian Sea in folded sheets and washed straight down the black stones of the walls of Castle Frankenstein. . Inside his castle, Dr Frankenstein was putting the finishing touches to his preparations – for his daring, some would say fiendish experiment, while his assistant Igor watched closely, his beady eyes darting here and there, missing nothing. . “Ve are ready at last! Brink in der first patient!” . Igor jumped to attention at Dr Frankenstein’s command. Since that unfortunate business at Castle Drumpfenstein, I mean Trumpenstein, he was wary of causing Dr Frankenstein any displeasure. . “Vill that be der Normein, der Charltein or der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short) Herr Doktor?” . “Rinkeindinkenshtoon or vhatever its damned name is, you fool! I told you how many times? As it iss der larchest of der three mongreils we have, it vill be der easiest!” Igor brought in a very reluctant hound: an alleged Brittany Spaniel. . “Here ist der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short), Herr Doktor!” said Igor. . “So you are der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short)! Ist goot! Again I say, ist goot!” . Dr Frankenstein inspected the complacent animal closely. “Igor, put der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short) up here on der operatink table!” Igor obeyed. . Dr Frankenstein snapped his fingers close to the dog’s eyes, and noted the lack of reaction. Dr Frankenstein snapped his fingers close to the dog’s ears, and again noted the lack of reaction. Dr Frankenstein snapped his fingers close to the dog’s nose, and again noted the lack of reaction. Dr Frankenstein opened Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short)’s mouth, snapped his fingers close to her tongue, and again noted the lack of reaction. Dr Frankenstein plunged his fingers down Rinkeindinkeinstein’s (Einstein for short)’s throat. She reacted by grinding the bones of his hand between the teeth in the angle of her jaws as if they were those of one of her familiar chicken necks. . Igor found the crunching sound particularly unpleasant. But it was heavenly music alongside the screaming of Dr Frankenstein. “Gott in Himmel! Look vill you, what zat infernal mongreil bitch hass done to mein hand!!!!!” . As Dr Frankenstein held aloft what looked like a mangled glove puppet, Igor decided that distraction was the better tack. He gave Dr Frankenstein a wink. . “Haff you heard ze one about der Cherman, der Scotsman und ze schtriptease artiste, Herr Doktor?” . Dr Frankenstein did not have to pretend that he had not heard it, because he had not heard any of Igor’s distraction at all; so engrossed had he been in evaluating the specimen to hand: to wit, his precious right hand, just mangled by Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short): mangled and mongreiled to boot. Then he screamed with pain again as a new jolt shot up his arm from what was left of the same pathetic and unfunny glove puppet. . But, despite all, master surgeon and scientist that he was (though disqualified and struck off the registers on both counts) he soon resumed his work. . “Achtung Igor.! Head: no goot. Legs no goot. Spine, no goot. Tail: alvays held too high! Brink me anozzer hund!” . Igor nodded obediently, gathered up Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short), and made his exit. He returned with Normein and Charltein: one on each arm. . “Der Normein und der Charltein, Herr Doktor.” . “Vhich ist vhich?” asked the Doctor. . “Zis friendly, trusting vun ist der Charltein. Zis angry, arrogant vun ist der Normein; alvays ready to fly off der handle and into ein boilink rage. Ein lady owns der both off zem. She ist outside, vaitink.” . “Vhich off zese two duss she most resemble, Igor?” Dr Frankenstein had a pet theory that owners take on the personalities of their favourite animals. . “On some days, Der friendly Charltein. On ozzers, der saffage Normein.” . “Und vot ist her name?” . “Jennifer von Humenstein. She ist der cousin to Patricia von Rochenstein, owner off der faithful but departed Rinkerdinkeinstein (Einstein for short.) Fraulein von Rochenstein ist zese days accompanied efferyvhere by her new, replacement hund Alexeistein.” . “I von’t ask you to show Frau von Humenstein in chust yet, in case it’s der wrongk day” said Dr Frankenstein. . “Und vot iss der problem mit ziss vun?” said Dr Frankenstein, indicating Normein. . “He iss as saffage ein hund ass you vill find anywhere, Dr Frankenstein.” . “But he iss so small!” . “You haff spent too much time viss your human patients Herr Doktor. Animals, und especially dogs, ist human. Only more so! Und size does not matter, especially concerning das hunds.!” . “I see,” said Dr Frankenstein. “Teeth at all angles; saffage disposition; inclined to rages… “Ziss hund ist ein little Attilla der Hun! Und dare I say it, any vun of his numerous rages would terrify der Fuehrer himself. I mean zat Fuehrer foretold in der Prophecy, who vill lead der Thousand Year Reich.! Sieg heil!” . Igor nodded his head in agreement. “Zat hass been my experience, Herr Doktor. Attilla der Hun mit der certainty. I am not so sure about der future Fuehrer who vill lead der Thousand Year Reich.! Sieg heil! But iff you say so, Herr Doktor.” . “Und ziss vun?” . “Charltein. Charltein hass ein gas problem, Herr Doktor.” . Just as Igor said that, Charltein delivered a gas sample from his nether end: a generous helping, or hindrancing if you would prefer. . “Ach! Gott in Himmel! Der schtink! Ist overpowerink!” . “You are not wronk zerre!” said Igor, ever obliging and deferring to his master. . “Der indole, der scatole, und der hydrogen sulfide.!” Dr Frankenstein still had the nose of an analytical chemist. Years before, he had trained under the world famous analyst Professor von Schtinkenbomb, and he certainly needed all that knowledge now. . “Too much off der indole, too much off der scatole, und far too much off der hydrogen sulfide. Mein nose has had long experience. Also der methane, und der ethane! Gott in Himmel! Achtung again.! Ein explosiff mix!” . Igor detected high alarm in Dr Frankenstein’s face. “Mitt enough off der oxygen present, ziss hund could blow mein whole Castle Frankenstein apart! Der whole village even!” . “Evacuate. Evacuate.! Ve all must get out.! Raus! Raus!” . “Der whole mountain as vell,” added Igor, trying to be helpful, and warming to his master’s theme; though more from instinct for duty than from chemical knowledge or laboratory practice. . “Igor. Extingvish all der candles und any naked flames!” Dr Frankenstein was well into panic mode. . “Panic stations.! Panic stations.! Vhere ist mein damned panic stations map? Achtung.! Achtung.!” . Igor raced around, putting out candles, braziers, burning tapers, candles in chandeliers, fireplace fires and even the glowing coals in the kitchen stove. Dr Frankenstein at last began to relax. . Outside, snow had begun falling. Mount Frankenstein was soon covered and white. Wolves came out of their lairs and started howling. “Zis ist more like it,” said Dr Frankenstein. . “Now to der task at hand. Nothink ve can do for der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short), but perhaps ve might be able to save somezing off der other two.” “Der front end of der Charltein ist goot: ferry goot. Likevise der rear end of der Normein.” He thought for a moment. . “Der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short)” ist not even goot for spare parts. There are none vorth havink on zat entire body. Brain, nein; eyes, nein; teeth perhaps, but zey are ein pfennig ein peck. Ein blind man might buy her pelt fur ein rug…” . “Schrap value only… Blood und bone… Zat sort of thingk,” said Igor. . “I sink vat ve must do… I sink vat ve must do ist amputate der sveet front end of der Charltein und graft it onto der sveet rear end off der Normein.” “Zen ve vould haff at least vun perfect hund. Und zose discarded ends vill go into der same bin as der whole body off der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short),” Dr Frankenstein added. “I do vish it vas not so necessary. Und chust look at zat faithful hund Alexiestein, owned by Patricia von Rochenstein.! He neffer leaves der side off der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short).!” . “Vish avay!” said a sarcastic voice from somewhere deep inside the castle. Its American accent was unmistakeable: the villainous hulk von Trumpenstein, I mean Drumpfenstein; ever lurking behind any available spare arras; the latter being not what you might think. . Dr Frankenstein, in precautionary mode, anaesthestised first Normein, then Charltein. He gave both just enough of the barbiturate in his big 50 mL syringe to put them to sleep. Then he pushed the balance into the femoral vein of Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short) and watched as her breathing came peacefully to a halt. . Even though he had been recently disqualified and deregistered amid controversial circumstances, after four further hours of the surgery for which he was justly famous, Dr Frankenstein was soon surveying a new superior hound sound asleep on his operating table. . “Igor, I sink ve make history today” said Dr Frankenstein. . “I am alvays amazed by your skill, Herr Doktor,” said Igor, who had been watching everything most intently. “Although I vas only a morgue attendant at der Technical University of Oberammagau before comink here, I can say none der less that your operations are in a class off zeir own: of a quality only possessed by vun ozzer surgeon.” “Und who might that be, Igor?” Dr Frankenstein did not like even the thought of some rival. . “Gott in Himmel! Himself.” . “Ah. You are too kind, Igor. Und much too pious. Gott in Himmel often seeks advice from me. From me.! Me you damned idiot.! ME!!! Some days, he tells me he vishes he knew as much as I do.” . Dr Frankenstein was given to such bursts of spontaneous rage, but he slowly calmed down. He took such flattery as an attempt on Igor’s part at the usual sort of ingratiation: more of a nuisance than it was worth. But he made no more of it. . “Clean up here, Igor, und dispose of der remains. I vill go to my quarters for a short nap, und zen I vill resume vork in my study.” . “Ferry goot, Herr Doktor” said Igor. “Should I start der furnace now?” . “Yes, start it,” said Dr Frankenstein. . “Ferry goot, Herr Doktor,” said Igor again. “It is vonderful how little time it takes: then…. all gone!” . “Herr Krankenstein, who built it, ist ein specialist engineer und ein genius… Like me!” said Dr Frankenstein. . Dr Frankenstein retired. As soon as he had gone, Igor checked that the new improved Charltein-Normein ‘hybrid’ dog was sleeping soundly in his cage, and then got to work on the leftovers. . He had no intention of firing up the furnace, because he wanted those spare parts from Normein and Charltein. Losing no time, he raced down the stairs to the very base of the castle tower, and opening the steel doors which in bygone years had kept out Saracens, Crusaders and sundry local debt collectors, he cast the remains of Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short) into the dark waters off that seacoast of Transylvania, the ever-faithful Alexeistein, owned by Patricia von Rochenstein, remaining by the side of Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short), and true to the end. . Igor did not have long to wait before the waters stirred. There was hardly a ripple: just a powerful eddy such as is found off any shore where two currents meet and combine to make a new and far deeper surging of the sea. . Igor knew that the two huge monsters they had created out of the halves of a white pointer shark each spliced onto a half of a killer whale, had risen from out of the boundless deep, had a brief contest over the remains of Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short) and turned again home. (Find literary allusion, dear reader, if you must; or more likely have nothing better to do.) . “Goot bye, Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short)” said Igor. “You haff served your time, your purpose, und your mistress Patricia von Rochenstein vell. But now ein new page must begin.” . It began immediately. Like a departing visitor who returns for a forgotten hat, one of the monsters returned, reared up out of the sea, and grabbed Alexeistein; for perhaps a bit of a second helping. The sight of that sent a shock down Igor’s spine, and he took a full five minutes to recover from it. “How am I going to break ziss news to Fraulein von Rochenstein?” He wondered. “I know. I vill tell her that der Alexeistein chumped off hiss own accord, as iff deluded into der belief that he ist also ein sea monster. Zat story vill haff to do. I haff not got all day.” . Back at Castle Frankenstein, Igor dispatched a message to the editor of the Transylvanian Times; a personal friend, and told him the story and the fate of Alexeistein. The editor promised to add a small footnote on that topic to the next fishing supplement, with perhaps a warning to dog owners. Then, back inside the surgery, Igor proceeded as best he could. He did not remember all he had seen of Dr Frankenstein’s splicing technique over the years, only parts of it. But he used all the skills he had faithfully learnt since his early days in Castle Frankenstein, as well as those he had filched in the small hours of many nights spent furtively poring over gothic medical and veterinary texts in Dr Frankenstein’s well-stocked library, as well as from intense study of the operations performed by Dr Frankenstein as they were proceeding; missing nothing. . For far too long he had been compelled to work in secret using Dr Frankenstein’s books and equipment. Too long had he known that he could never match Dr Frankenstein’s skill, but as long as he could produce a credible improvement in the remains he now operated on, he would feel that satisfaction within himself of creation and achievement: which for any of us is all that need matter. . “Ziss ist not chust another dice und splice,” he reminded himself. “Ziss ist historic. I am definitely breakink new ground here. Der simplest part ist connection of der two alimentary tracts to form ein continuous system. But der two circulatory systems are der hardest part, apart from ze nervous systems, which are ein nightmare. Der blood und nervous signals from der Normein must permeate completely der body off der Charltein, und vice versa.” . “Ze two hunds are two separate animals, yet mutually dependent… Zey have separate genetics, biochemistries und molecular identities, yet zey don’t any more. Neither off zem can now survive without der ozzer. Ve now haff ein chimera; off sorts.” . Igor had jumped to attention at Dr Frankenstein’s every command. Since that unfortunate business at Castle Trumpenstein, I mean Drumpfenstein, he was wary of causing Dr Frankenstein any displeasure. . Meanwhile, back at Castle Drumpfenstein (perhaps that should be Trumpenstein after all) things were not going smoothly. A scheming monster from down deep in the darkest recesses of the castle dungeons had wheedled, cajoled and threatened its way into command, and was exerting its fiendish influence over any it could within the castle walls. . Its name was Donaldstein, but for some strange reason it preferred to be called The Donaldstein, as if in a bid to avoid confusion with any other Donaldsteins. The Donaldstein liked to be, and personally needed to be, the centre of attention, and to this end was inclined to give speeches calculated to rouse the unwary, the gullible and the dumbly accepting: which was a good 28% or thereabouts of the population of the country, varying from the street people to the well-to-do. But not those of the dungeon population on his floor of the castle, who knew him well. . “Igor” said Dr F. “I sink ve should enter ziss perfect hund in all der dog shows in der Principality Drumpfenstein. Zis specimen ist perfect, und should clean up all der prizes going, I mean goink.” (He was ever a stickler over speech and pronunciation.) “Vhich vun?” . “Der Normein-Charltein off course. Vat ozzer pozzibility ist zere?” . Too late, Igor realised the great danger he was in. His own project could be exposed.! He could easily blow it all: not just his own secret dog leftovers project, his future, the lot.! Dr Frankenstein would be furious if he found out about it. . “Although it zounds impozzible Herr Doktor, I know… I had forgotten about your monumental vork today. I suppose that in der short time since, ve haff been transported by you into a far future, und are now livink in ein different universe, mit ferry different pozzibilities. It takes zum gettink used to.” . Dr Frankenstein grunted. Yes, it was just possibly true. Igor might well be right. Even for a genius like himself, the new world emerging was not exactly comprehensible in all its dimensions. . So Igor went to Castle Drumpfenstein to begin this mission by entering Charltein-Normein in the Principality Drumpfenstein Dog Fair. But once inside that evil black castle Charltein-Normein became very uneasy. Igor could not hear them, but Charltein-Normein could: cries and groans coming up from the dungeons below the castle, where the Count’s victims, male, female and everything else, pleaded with their hardened, pitiless jailers for some mercy: never granted. . Back at Castle Frankenstein, Charltein-Normein’s unease became apparent to Dr Frankenstein, as if conveyed on the airwaves and received by a sixth doggy sense. Dr Frankenstein in turn sensed that. “Vot iss it, mongreil? Well, dear reader, by now you can see what is coming, so I will not detain you with the details. . Count von Drumpfenstein went on to develop a reality stage show featuring hypnotists and performing animals. He toured it throughout his own domain of Drumpfenstein, next on the map to Transylvanenstein, and also, he ventured further afield in Europe. But his plans were blown when the snarling savage diabolically flatulent Normein-Charltein (front-rear) got mixed up and brought on in place of his purebred stage-stooge dog named Votyoumaycallitstein, in reality Charltein-Normein (front-rear), who was meanwhile the subject of a negotiated sale to a genetic engineering and cloning company for a small fortune. He had taken out championships galore in the local dog fairs all over Transylvanenstein, (whose dog-show judges quaked in their boots at the merest thought of what would certainly happen to them if they displeased Count von Drumpfenstein.) . BUT… No other contenders were a match for Normein-Charltein. His combination of vicious, snarling front end, and dangerously effluvious rear end were devastating. All over Transylvanenstein, castles large and small were in due course, guarded by fearsome Normein-Charlteins. Rotweilers and Great Danes were heavily discounted by breeders and dealers alike, those breeds kept alive only through the dedication and determination of an ever-dwindling band of diehard loyalists and aficionados. Cries of “Achtung.! Achtung.! Ist ein saffage schtinkenbomb Normein-Charltein.!” could be heard throughout the land. Dr Frankenstein meanwhile kept all wolves from his door (literally) and the mere rumour that a castle was guarded by a Normein-Charltein was the strongest available deterrent to thieves and invading foreign forces known anywhere. . Needless to add the Normein-Charltein spliced breed, which some erroneously refer to as chimeras, has sent followers stampeding off to google and Wikipedia, only to find https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chimera_(genetics) . Not only that, when Dr Frankenstein in due course found out about Igor’s Normein-Charltein (front-rear) creation, he went thoroughly berserk. But after a month or so he had calmed down sufficiently to consider as rationally as he could the possible derivatives and consequences. This led him inevitably to his ultimate creation: the monster Boris Karloff. Not the monster played by the film actor of the same adopted name: whose real name was not Boris Karloff, but originally Bert Smith of Eastcheap (formerly Schmidt; in the aftermath of the English Civil War of 1642-49 changed from the German to the English form on the Eastcheap parish records.) At that time, he hailed from Wopping, as in whopping whopper of a yarn; but I digress. . When they are not busy splicing and grafting dogs, these days Dr Frankenstein and the faithful Igor can be found in the orchard behind Castle Frankenstein in the scenic and bountiful land of Transylvanestein, applying their skills to a variety of trees. They are not content with merely grafting one rosaceous species like a pear onto another closely related rosaceous species like an apple. No. They are developing closely guarded techniques and potions to enable hallucinogenic stinkworts to be grafted onto towering sequoias and Western Australian eucalypts, which they hope will be of use to prevent aircraft overflying Transylvanenstein in time of war. Their hope is that effluvia-crazed pilots will crash their planes; into castles belonging to Dr Frankenstein’s detested neighbours. . Worse; there are abundant rumours that an alliance is being hatched in secret negotiations between Dr Frankenstein and Count Drumpfenstein, I mean Trumpenstein, to be sprung upon the world in a surprise revelation in 2024. . Transylvanenstein is not exactly a paradise on Earth. . BUT HERE, OUR TALE MUST END. Crossing the Bar BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.