A Sperlative View

By Sam Worthington

Two Labradors, Sam a gun dog and Worthington an ex- pub dog, have a series of hilarious adventures in both the big city and the countryside. Totally believable, the author manages to convince the reader that this is how dogs both communicate and feel about the world in which they live. Their escapades range from swimming in the Serpentine to framing a cat for stealing chickens. Sam, the country bumpkin, is a natural retriever and loves to work with the Boss on pheasant shoots. Worthington has two loves in his life, girls and food. The combination of the somewhat pompous Worthington and Sam the bumpkin as they pursue their respective loves provides endless entertainment

From a Holiday cottage
“Before you go to sleep dear boy, could you just sort out this inferior for me.”
“For Hubert’s sake Worthy, leave the poor inferior alone. You can have the blanket.”
“What,” Worthington spluttered, “Let a superlative sleep on the floor and an inferior sleep on the sofa?”
From a bit of upright fun (The cricket match)
“Well that old upright, he is what they call an umpire. He decides the rules, or something. Anyway it seems he is always ruling against the Boss's side.”
“Well it only be a bit of upright fun.”
“Yes dear boy. But the Boss's friends are taking it seriously. They may not even stay for the barbecue.”
“And that would be a disaster for you Worthy me old,” said Sam with a smirk.

From The Burglar
“Ah!” said Worthington, finally getting the message. “Who is it then?” he added.
“I don’t know now do I!” was Sam’s cryptic answer.
“Well dear boy what do you think they are doing?” Asked Worthington, then a nasty thought occurred to him, “I say there not eating those rather good chocolates are they.”
Sam was angry at Worthington’s complete lack of interest. “Expect they are Worthy, I mean there be nowt else in there.”
Worthington came quickly to his feet. “We’d better investigate,” Worthington decided.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sam Worthington
• Release date: Oct 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465999320

Sam Worthington

Sam Worthington has been around for about twenty years working as a travel writer, bar and restaurant reviewer for several print publications as well as many websites. As can be seen from the website samworthington.com is a nom de plume of a successful restaurateur and publican. A student of economics Tim Randall was a keen politician in his youth and was member of the Hyde Park Tories and vice chairman of Chelsea Young Conservatives. He received international publicity as the pirate postmaster general during the postal strike of 1971. At that time he ran a building business in Chelsea and also was involved in various nightclubs as well as being a sort after party Disc Jockey. In the mid seventies, Sam worked for the electronic security industry selling advanced digital coding systems. In the early nineties Tim was the director of the Budapest Week, the first English Language paper in Eastern Europe (as it then was). He has worked in Turkey, Portugal, Holland, Italy, Spain, Hungary, Poland, Thailand and now lives in the Philippines: in addition he has traveled extensively in Europe, Asia and America.

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Superlative View

By

Tim Randall

Copyright© Tim Randall 1999.

The right of Tim Randall to be identified as the author of The Superlative View has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patent Act 1988

Smashwords Edition

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Other books by the same author as Sam Worthington

The General (1st. book in Aquitaine Trilogy)

The Constitution (2nd book in Aquitaine Trilogy)

The War (3rd. book in Aquitaine Trilogy)

Kelly: The bar girl who would be president

Hookers Hero - thriller set in 1970’s London nightclubs

Food reviews at www.samworthington.com

Blog: www.asiabugle.com

This novel is mainly a work of fiction and the characters and events in it exist only in its pages and in the author’s imagination.

Many thanks to Antony Otway for editorial advice, Sam and Worthington for providing the basis of the stories, to the many cricketers I have played with and fellow countrymen who I have shot with.

Chapter 1: White rabbit

Sam, Sam, the male upright Robert called, frustration bubbled in his voice.

Sam, some fifty odd yards ahead of the owner of the voice, appeared not to hear. Sam continued to keep his nose glued to the particular pine tree he was smelling. Somebody had been there, that much Sam knew. Who it was eluded Sam, and that was frustrating. The bleating of his name did not help his concentration. Finally Sam gave up the attempt at identification. He stood up, raised his right rear leg and squirted at the tree. Confident of a job well done, Sam moved on up the path between the two pine plantations.

The pine trees, which had been thinned twice since being planted, now soared thirty odd feet into the air. Beneath the trees was an intriguing world: a world of broken branches, bramble bushes and large patches of light where storms had taken their toll. This was the world that Sam loved. In this wooded underworld there were hundreds of mysteries for a trained observer to solve.

At six years old Sam was in the prime of life, his sense of smell, his knowledge of the animal and bird world was extensive. He was two feet at the shoulder, his sleek yellow coat immaculate, except for a few thorns scars around a muzzle, which was devoid of white hair. His tail proudly stood out, slightly curved now as he loped along. The muscles of his shoulders rippled as he moved. He was perfect and he knew it. One the fastest retrievers on any shoot, a terror for wounded game. Most uprights would describe Sam as a little headstrong; not the easiest of dogs to control they would say. But Sam’s view was different. What did uprights know? They never used their noses, they had never charged flat out through woodland strewn with brambles after a pheasant that on two good legs could move through brambles and briars as fast as Sam. The trouble with uprights is that they simply did not understand.

Sam, Sam, squawked upright Robert again. Robert then looked back to see where his other charge, as Robert saw it, was. To Robert's consternation he saw Worthington giving similar attention as Sam to a tree fifty yards back down the footpath. In desperation the upright called out, Worthington, do keep up.

Worthington kept his nose glued to the tree, he wished this stupid upright would turn round and go home. Hubert he thought, The stupid idiot has been dragging me around this smelly pine forest for over half an hour. Worthington was in a foul mood. It had rained recently and his underbelly was getting muddy and wet, he knew that meant he would be locked in the kitchen, instead of toasting in front of the fire, upon his return home.

Worthington was a little taller than Sam, but he was black, and at two years older grey showed heavily on his muzzle. Worthington thought of himself as overweight rather than fat. Worthington's major two passions in life were food and the girls. Worthington saw little use in Sam's hunting prowess; Worthington concentrated his mind on any female that crossed his path. Worthington had been bought up in Chelsea, London, a vastly superior place to the apparent prison (kennels in upright) that Sam had lived in, in the country. Two years ago Worthington had come to the country, and been teamed up with Sam.

In the country Worthington was a nobody; a point that he resented enormously. However in Sam he found an ‘almost friend' to guide him through the dangers of this strange open land. Worthington had been encouraged to pick up birds with his mouth, something he did not enjoy: all he got was a mouth full of feathers that took hours to get rid of. Reflectively Worthington gave the tree another sniff, then rather casually lifted his leg. He heard the upright call again, he continued to feign deafness.

At that moment another smell caught Worthington's attention. It was a smell that Worthington would never forget. It was a smell that had caused him acute embarrassment a few weeks after he came from London. The first time he had encountered this odour, he had investigated a furry ball. Unsure what to do he had gently sprayed the fur, thus claiming whatever it was. The trouble was that the fur ball had become alive and taken off in dodging run. Worthington had looked after the departing baby rabbit with a quizzical gaze. However Sam, who would normally be after the rabbit in a trice, ensuring the fury of the Boss, had simply been laughing so much that he could not follow. Then to add insult to injury the Boss had started laughing, out loud in the middle of the bloody field. And if that was not enough, every time the Boss had uprights around to eat, he would tell the story of Worthington and the rabbit, be rewarded with hoots of laughter and inane comments by the other uprights directed at Worthington. Under these circumstances Worthington hated rabbits. He would have probably ignored the rabbit if it had not been for upright Robert shouting at him to catch up. In an act of pure bloody mindedness Worthington turned towards the clump of broken and dead branches where the rabbit seemed to be. The rabbit saw Worthington turn towards him, made his umpteenth bad decision of that day and bolted.

As the rabbit shot out of the far side of the clump, more by instinct than anything else Worthington charged after it. Sam seeing his companion take off decided he had better find out what had got Worthington motivated. Sam was an awesome sight flying through the pine plantation, on an intercept course with Worthington. ‘It had to be a girl, nothing else got Worthington going like that,’ thought Sam

The rabbit was gaining in confidence. He had been told that no single dog should catch an agile rabbit in woodland where the rabbit could dodge and jinx around trees, and the pursuing Worthington was already losing his initial enthusiasm. That is when the rabbit saw his avenging angel, in the form of Sam. The rabbit instantly recognised the new dog was a real threat. He stopped worrying about Worthington and dodged to get away from Sam. The rabbit's error was not realising how disinterested Worthington was in the whole affair. Seeing Sam charging in Worthington had thought; ‘if Sam wanted to show off, let him.' Worthington stopped. The rabbit though assumed that Worthington was still chasing him flat out. The rabbit did a neat pirouette around a bramble clump, intending to come out behind Worthington. Unfortunately for the rabbit instead of coming out behind Worthington he came round the clump and ran straight into him. Also, unfortunately for the rabbit, Worthington did not have time to think. If he had thought about it Worthington would probably never have grabbed the rabbit. It was pure instinct, and in reality a very sharp move, in cricketing parlance it was the finest of slip catches.

Once the rabbit was in his mouth, Worthington felt a certain elation, if for no other reason than he had caught the rabbit. Sam, in Worthington's mind, had nothing to do with it. The rabbit kicked out in Worthington's mouth still very much alive. Sam skidded to a halt beside Worthington, You caught it, Sam looked surprised, well now you've got it you had better kill it.

The rabbit kicked again. Worthington was now beginning to wonder what to do with it; he could barely admit he did not know how to kill it.

By the way Worthy, what do you think you've caught there? Sam asked with a distinct smirk.

Worthington gave Sam a glare, and despite still keeping the rabbit in his mouth, managed to snarl, A rabbit.

Ahh that maybe a rabbit, but that also be a white rabbit, and white rabbits is normally kept by uprights.

Before Worthington could consider the comment, a young upright voice called out, Daddy, Daddy that dog has got Fluffy.

Twenty yards away a half-grown upright was running through the trees towards Sam and Worthington. Behind the small upright was a male upright; they were both coming from a line of houses, which backed onto the woods.

From the opposite direction, Robert upright was struggling through the woods, yelling out You dogs come back here. Now.

Me thinks we may be in a little trouble here, Worthy my old. Sam remarked as the little upright arrived at their side, then burst into tearful howl.

Daddy, Daddy the black dog is hurting Fluffy.

It's all right Johnny, the father assured his son as he arrived somewhat out of breath at the scene, I am sure that the dog won't hurt fluffy.

At that moment Fluffy made the final error in what had been a day of mistakes. The first and greatest mistake had been a desire for freedom. That morning Johnny had bought Fluffy some carrot tops, then hurried off to get some grass as a desert. In his desire to please, Johnny had rushed off leaving the hutch door ajar. Thus given the opportunity; Fluffy sought freedom. His blunder was that he had a desire for freedom but he had no idea what freedom was. Once out into the garden he had intended to do a couple of laps around the lawn. However a large bird had cruised overhead and then Fluffy had smelt a cat. If only Fluffy had known that neither the bird, nor the cat was going to worry Fluffy the rest of the sorry tale may have been avoided. In panic Fluffy ran into adjacent woods where things quickly became worse. Large birds squawked in the trees, a wild rabbit had kicked him in the ribs instead of helping him and the smell of fox had terrified him. Hiding in a clump of broken branches, the glare of the enormous black dog had panicked him yet again. Then just as he thought he could evade the dog the other one had appeared.

Fluffy's final mistake was understandable. Still obsessed with the desire for the freedom that had bought on this day of horrors, Fluffy kicked out with all his strength. The first kick partially loosened Worthington's grip, the second hit his shoulder. In disgust Worthington spat the rabbit out.

For a second the rabbit hesitated as it hit the ground. Sam did not. The rabbit was barely out of Worthington's mouth when Sam swooped. With years of experience Sam struck. In one move the rabbit was secure in his mouth, then the jaws applied the extra pressure designed to collapse the rib cage. Just in case that was not enough Sam viciously shook his head. In less time than it had taken to reach the ground from Worthington's mouth, the rabbit was in Sam's mouth and dead.

What did you do that for? Worthington said angrily to Sam.

It was a rabbit. Superlatives kill rabbits, then Sam added with a slight sneer, Well proper superlatives do, any way! It's what uprights expect us to do!

Little Johnny, having watched his pet turn into lunch, let out an awful plaintive wail.

Now what is going on? upright Robert arrived. Then seeing Sam with dead rabbit, rather lamely said, Where did that rabbit come from?

It's my son’s, and your dogs have just killed it, the father exploded as Johnny flung himself around his leg. The father stepped back under the impact of his son. Unfortunately a dead branch was directly behind him, so his foot had nowhere to go. As the father started to fall, Sam who was doing a lap of honour with the dead rabbit, happened to be behind him. Sam leapt violently out of the way of the toppling father, who crashed to the ground onto a bramble bush. It was now the father's turn to howl, though with pain not anguish.

The father did not know what had tripped him up, but he had caught a fleeting glimpse of Sam as he had fallen. The father now impaled on brambles with his wailing son clutching him completely lost his cool.

He turned his wrath on Robert upright. Your accursed dogs should be locked up. First they kill my son’s pet, then they knock me over. The father paused as he scrambled from the ground.

Robert seeing injustice, interjected, It was not Sam that knocked you over, it was your son. Not the most intuitive remark thought Worthington

Don't be so ignorant, I saw the dog.

Sam looked at Worthington quizzically. I think dear boy it is time we moved, Worthington suggested. Then added We don't want to get involved in an upright fight now do we?

San quietly dropped the rabbit and little Johnny appeared and grabbed it cradling it in his arms and started to sob loudly, which immediately drew the attention of both the uprights.

As the two uprights sought to pacify the boy, and to argue, Sam and Worthington casually moved away until out of sight of the uprights.

Well Worthy me old, I reckon we had better go 'ome.

But we came in the car with Robert. We can wait for him.

Come on Worthy it is only a few miles across the fields, past the horse place. I suppose you could manage to walk that far.

Sam dear boy that is not a walk, its major exercise. I'll go and wait by the car.

So I be the one the boss will crucify when I get 'ome, and good old Worthy will be everybody's friend, then added as an aside, By the way you know that little spaniel near the horses. Well last time I be there she asked after you! He gave Worthington a speculative look

Well I suppose you're right I can't let you go home alone. Worthington conceded as the penny dropped, he had always rather liked that little spaniel, pretty little thing she was.

As they were leaving the wood they heard the plaintive cry of upright Robert as he looked for them.

Chapter 2: In is easier in than out

Uprights are darn silly really, Sam remarked as they trotted along I mean, all that fuss over a rabbit.

The trouble, dear boy, is that they never listen to us superlatives.

I knows that Worthy, but that be because they can't hear us talking. No senses that be the trouble with uprights.

Silly thing is, Sam, who on earth would want to own a rabbit in the first place? I was told that there was a time when the whole world was full of rabbits.

"Darn me Worthy you are not getting to know 'bout country matters.