Calling All Weirdos

It was a lovely summer morning. Michael had fed the dogs their socks and had let them pee on the Diagon Alley brick street as he walked them. He had put new felt pads on their feet because their wooden legs kept getting scratched on the brick. He'd polished their wood frames and cleaned their upholstery--Ottos brown leather and Faline's pink chintz. Otto had a matching brown leather leash and Faline had a white leash. Michael could not bring himself to get the pink one she had preferred to be seen on. They had learned to be rather well behaved footstools. They knew how to heel, sit, stay, rollover, fetch, and play dead. He had a canvas messenger bag full of black socks in case they got hungry.

Some old crone had come out of one of the shops and had been disgusted by the sight of two cocker spaniels, well, footstools who believed they were cocker spaniels. Otto had taken a dislike to her immediately and that made Faline follow suit. They began to run at her, snapping and barking. The woman turned on MIchael, ready to swear at him when Otto bit her. She screached.

"That's what you get, you old bat!" Michael said sharply. Otto went to raise his leg on her cloak, and she took a step away from the leather footstool.

"Your dog was going to...well,...well..." she was flustered.

"Well?" Michael looked at her blankly. "So was I. He just got to you first." The woman turned and stormed off in a huff. Michael petted the dogs. "Good dogs. They really shouldn't let old bats like that out of the house in the first place."

Marcus entered Diagon Alley via the Leaky Cauldron. A bunch of old cougars had been complimenting his looks as he walked past them. "Oh come of it," he merely said to them. He had a girlfriend and they were just plain pathetic and old. When he had exited the pub, he walked outside into Diagon Alley. It was relatively quiet.

Marcus saw an older man and a bitter old woman yelling at each other. The man had been strolling by with two dogs. Marcus gave a quiet laugh when he called her an old bat. He walked down the street, to enter his newly owned shop, Eeylops, when the one of the two dogs came up to him and licked his hand.

He laughed and said, "You've got a nice dog, Y'Know."

"That's Otto," Michael said. "Looks like he likes you, and he's a pretty good judge of character. He should have peed on her." He watched Faline go over and sniff the younger man. "That's Faline. I'm Michael. So you're the new owner of Eeylops, eh? I've thought about getting a new owl, but I'm afraid the dogs would eat him."

Actually that wasnt' the problem. The last owl Michael had had disappeared when the kleptomanic coat rack had swiped the bird and dashed off with him. And while the coat rack had come back, the bird had not.

Before he could ask his next question, Otto got sight of a wizard with a tall walking staff. Otto yanked on the leash and broke free and dashed off to got attack the stick. Michael sighed.

"Otto thinks he looks like the hat rack," Michael sighed, figuring he'd let the dog get the staff and then accio him back. He wasnt' running after the dog. The other witches and wizards in the alley were too curious to fire at the running footstool. Michael stood patienty, watching the mayhem as the wizard spun in endless circles trying to avoid letting Otto get ahold of the stick. "Perhaps he's right. The hat rack can be a bully. If I get an owl, he's either got to be a tough one, or one really fast little buggar." Then he said. "I suppose I should help him out, really."