Legendary Lost City of the Scottie Kings – Chapter 3

King Angus The 33rd was in the Palace Auditorium looking over the crowd.  Thousands of people and canines were watching him, and King Angus was bedecked in his formal royal robe and atop his head was a crown of jewels and gold.  All waiting for this, what was billed as a very important speech.

“Foreign dignitaries, canines, and their hooman staff, and members of my government.  Thanks for attending today.” Angus began, in his strong Scottie voice.  Looking over the Palace Auditorium, Angus couldn’t help but notice the 32 gold Scottie statues high up on the walls near the ceiling.  Each statue was a life size representation of the 32 prior Scottie Kings, from the first Angus to the 32nd Angus, Angus The 33rd’s father.  The Angus reign of Scotland spanned nearly a millennium, for folklore held that Angus the First lived to be nearly 100 years old, and Angus the fifth ruled an incredible 152 years.  Nowadays, Scotties lived to be around 30-35 years of age  typically.  Angus the 33rd was a robust, vibrant and healthy 18 years of age.

“I hope you are enjoying many of the innovations that my sister, the Princess Ainsley, has invented.  From the food and beverage vendors hawking their products from the coolers strapped around their chest – an Ainsley invention – to the stadium seating in which the rows go up, giving everyone an unobstructed view, another Princess Ainsley innovation.  And the rocking chairs you are sitting on, along with cup holders, all thanks to my sister.  I’m afraid if something happened to our civilization today all these fabulous creations would be lost for centuries, if not a thousand years,” Angus chuckled.

The crowd gasped in horror at Angus’s remarks.  A puppy in the back shouted “oh no, that would be terrible!”

Angus continued, “Settle down, settle down, just making an observation.  Nothing is going to happen to us Scottie Kings, not with the Scottie Special Forces, who are temporarily on assignment in Labrador in the land I have decided to call Canada.  But the guarding of the kingdom is in the capable hands of the Border Terrier Regiments, overseen by Baron Bancroft and his fellow Airedales”

“Oh no, not Border Terriers!  We’re doomed!” shouted that puppy in the back of the auditorium, to scattered chuckles among the audience.

“Anyway, where is that Baron Bancroft?  Anyone seen him?  I haven’t seen him or his Airedales since early yesterday evening.  Doesn’t matter – I’m more than capable of handling any crisis personally.” Angus said, flexing his ample black furred biceps as he held his prepared remarks.

“But I digress.  The point of my momentous address to you is this.  For generations, hooman staff has been trained at an informal basis, at the cost to their canine masters, at local hooman supply stores.  Child classes at the area HoomanSmart stores, or their HoomCo competitors.  Then followed by intermediate classes, and then advanced classes.  Of course, Hooman training is meaningless without participation by their canine masters.” Angus said

The crowd murmured approvingly in appreciation.  “Preaching to the choir” yelled the puppy voice from the back.

“Well now,” continued Angus. “We are going to formalize this education.  I propose that all hooman education be free, with baby to intermediate classes at local PUBLIC schools around the country, funded and administered by my government, overseen by Princess Ainsley, and those hoomans who have the aptitude for higher learning can attend advanced classes and specialized trick classes, along with Hooman Good Citizen classes, along with Therapy Hooman, Rescue Hooman, and Search Hooman classes, all taught at the world renowned Ainsley Institute of Scottietude Studies, to be built on land acquired near the East Wall of our Capitol City.”

The crowd leaped to its feet and paws in glorious, thunderous applause, with a lone puppy voice yelled “That Princess Ainsley, she’s the best!”

“Furthermore…”Angus continued, but was interrupted by a loud crash from the front door, and a lone figure advancing up the middle aisle, flanked by two milky white Siberian Tigers.

“Stop right there, King Angus.  For I am Lord Vlad, Lord Prince of Siberia, and I claim your Kingdom and your subjects for myself and my evil minions” laughed Lord Vlad, as he strode confidently to face Angus.

“We’ll see about that” said Angus, about to deliver a devastating blow to Lord Vlad, but his paws were stopped in mid swing by a gang of Huskies, who had sneaked in through the back exit doors.

“Tut Tut King Angus – or I guess we can call you now, plain old Angus.” Said Lord Vlad.  “Huskies, take Angus to the back and tie him up securely.  We’re going to find out where the King’s treasures are.  And mercenaries,” Lord Vlad said to his hooman mercenaries, who by now filled the rows of the auditorium.  “Take down these gold Scottie statues – and let’s melt them down and sell them.  And ship these hoomans to my reeducation camps in Siberia – we’re gonna teach them that a hooman’s place is ruling their canines – not taking orders from them!”

“Oh no you don’t Lord Vlad.  My Airedale guards are probably coming right now, and they are going to take care of you, big time!” screamed Angus

“Oh, I have already taken care of Lord Vlad big time indeed, King Angus” said Baron Bancroft, leader of the Airedale Terrier Guards, who just appeared in the front door.  “Who do you think showed him where to land on our dangerous craggy coast – and sent your Scottie Special Forces away on a Wild Labrador Chase?”

Lord Vlad then said “Enough jibber jabber from you, Angus – we’re going to bend you, break you, kill you – I don’t care what – but I am going to get your treasure!  Take him away, Huskies!”

And with that a struggling Angus looked behind as he was being carried away.  He took one last look at what may have been his fabulous Palace Auditorium, now in chaos.