The Paw of Destiny

Disappointment, the one feeling Michael had hoped never to associate with his children. He had spent his life providing for his children in the hopes that one day, they will make something of their lives. Make him proud. But as Michael sat in his armchair, stroking his tiny chihuahua, Brutus, all he felt for three of his children was disappointment. Jack, his only child that made him proud and had listened to his teaching and made a successful businessman of himself, sat on the sofa opposite his father, tapping on the keyboard of his laptop, his smart business suit speaking of his success.

"I think you should give Claire, Fred and Andrew a chance," Jack said without looking up from the keyboard. "Yes, they don't own their own businesses, but they have all had success in their own way."

A soft growl came from Brutus and Michael huffed. "You know what the last thing Claire said to me was? 'Don't ever bring that dog to my house again.'"

"Brutus did pee on her new sofa," Jack reminded him.

"He's a dog, Jack. Dogs pee."

"Look, I'm sure it was just a heat of the moment thing," Jack attempted to ease his father's mood.

Shaking his head, Michael answered, "The three of them are useless spongers. Well, they won't get a penny out of me. I'll teach them."

"Please think about this, Dad. Look. You've got an e-mail from Claire. I'm sure she's sorry." Jack's voice was soft as he handed the laptop to his father.

"Yet to be seen. Anyway, I've got Mr Clemmy coming to rewrite my will. I'm leaving everything to you, Brutus, if I don't get an apology." Michael stormed, placed the laptop on his knee and hovered the mouse over Claire's e-mail. He read the subject line: "I left something unsaid."

Before he could click on the e-mail to read it, Brutus jumped onto the keyboard and hit delete. The e-mail disappeared.

"Oh, Brutus!"

"What?" Jack said, staring at his father.

"He deleted it."

"Oh, that's okay. Just go to your deleted e-mails at the side. You can get it back," Jack informed him.

In response, Michael clicked on the deleted e-mail and there it was: Claire's e-mail. He hovered the mouse over the e-mail again, ready to read it, when Brutus again jumped on the delete key and the e-mail again disappeared.

"He's done it again. Is there a deleted, deleted thing?" Michael asked, staring at the laptop.

"Ah. I'm afraid not. It's gone now. Brutus really didn't want you to read that e-mail," Jack half laughed.

"Well, if it was that important she should have come and seen me in person." Michael said. looking at Jack.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Get that for me, will you, my boy?" Michael asked with a proud smile.

Jack stood and walked to the door and left the room. Michael closed the laptop and placed it on the shelf beside him. Brutus quickly took its place again and lay down, Michael gently scratching behind Brutus' ears.

Soon Jack returned with a smartly dressed man with a briefcase in his hand.

"Ah, Mr Clemmy. You're here," Michael greeted before adding in an annoyed tone, "At last."

"My apologies, Mr Millward. The traffic."

"Was probably non‑existent, Mr Clemmy," Michael cut in. "You are always late."

"As you say, Mr Millward. I'm sorry." Mr Clemmy moved to the empty chair and sat, removing a laptop from his briefcase and placing it on his knee. "I understand you wish to change your will. I'll bring up the document now."

After a few moments, Mr Clemmy was ready. "Okay, Mr Millward. What part would you like to change?"

A sly smile came across Michael's face. "Firstly, I would like anyone that reads this will to be wearing a pink tutu!"

Mr Clemmy's mouth dropped open. "But sir. That would be me."

"Yes. I know. That will teach you to be late so often," said Michael, answered by a snort of laughter from Jack and a wagged tail from Brutus.

Closing his mouth, Mr Clemmy began to type, a grumpy expression on his face. He knew better than to argue with Michael.

The room was quiet other than the soft clicking of keys on the keyboard. After a short time, Mr Clemmy looked up.

"Is that the only change you want to make?"

"Of course not, you halfwit. I was going to leave half of everything to Jack, but he insists he would rather I do good with my money," Michael stated with an edge, though he looked again at Jack with proud eyes and smiled before he continued. "So half of everything will go to the Dogs Trust instead."

Brutus wagged his tail again and Jack looked uneasy.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jack asked.

Michael nodded to Mr Clemmy, who began typing again. The soft clicking filled the room. Jack sighed and looked away. He had so hoped the rift in the family could be healed, but maybe there was still time. His father had rewritten his will so many times that maybe it wasn't too late.

"And the other half?" Mr Clemmy's voice squeaked.

"Well, the other half will go to Brutus, of course." Michael smiled at the tiny chihuahua and scratched his ears. Brutus wagged.

Mr Clemmy quickly wrote down the instruction, wanting nothing more now than to finish quickly and get out.

"Anything else?"

Michael scratched his head. "There are a few small details, but I've got to think about those. One thing though. I know Claire loved that grandfather clock, so she can have it. See, Jack. I'm not completely heartless."

In reply, Jack nodded gently and Brutus jumped off Michael's knee and ran to Mr Clemmy and scratched at his foot.

"Well, pick him up," instructed Michael.

Obliging, Mr Clemmy picked up the tiny dog and sat it beside him and then began typing. As he typed "grandfather", Brutus pawed at the keyboard, adding an S which Mr Clemmy did not notice. Mr Clemmy continued to type "clock", only for Brutus to tap the keyboard again, deleting the L.

"Okay. All done," stated Mr Clemmy, not even rereading what he'd written in his rush to leave. "Is that it now?"

"For now, yes."

Mr Clemmy quickly put away his laptop and headed for the door without a word, leaving the house as quickly as he could.

After the soft click of the door, Jack looked at his father. "You need a better lawyer! He's useless." He though for a moment and smiled, then added with a giggle, "Probably left Claire a grandfather's cock or something."

Michael laughed. "I'd love to be a fly on the wall at that will reading." His laughter died and he grew serious. “He’ll be the death of me, that’s for sure.”

Brutus curled up on Michael's knee and wagged his tail gently, as if satisfied with the chaos his tiny paw had caused.