The Stinky Little Dog

Once upon a time, a long time ago, a city located far to the East. In the center of this city was a large market. One day a month, this market was dedicated to the sale of dogs.

The merchants came from all over the world, sometimes from far away, bringing with them dogs of all kinds, of all races, of all colors. Large and small ones were there; some very fat, some lean. There were beautiful ones, somehow beautiful ones, and not beautiful ones at all. Some barked very sharply, others very seriously. Some seemed kind, affectionate, others seemed mean or aggressive. And fans came from everywhere to buy these dogs.

At the same time, in this city lived an old man very poor. A beggar. He had always dreamed of having a dog of his own. He often stopped at the market and looked at them all with envy, but they were too expensive. He could never have bought one of these proud purebred dogs.

One day he had been hanging out for hours in the market square, he saw a merchant who was still lingering at the end of the day, counting his recipe. He had only one dog left.

-You do not sell it, that one? asked the beggar.

"No," replied the merchant. Nobody wants it. I will never sell it or get rid of it.

-Why ? said the old man.

-Simply, because this dog smells bad. He even smells very bad. A smell of sewer, trash. Yet, I tried everything. I immersed him in scented water baths. I washed, brushed. No way to chase the smell it releases.

-You sell it expensive?

"Oh no," replied the merchant. We can buy for a few cents. But who would want it?

"I have a few pennies in my pocket," said the hopeful beggar. Will that suffice?

The merchant took the few coins.

-The dog is yours.

The old man left the market with the little dog in his arms. He smelled really bad, but he had such beautiful eyes, so soft, so tender.

They followed a beautiful avenue that led out of the walls of the city. The most beautiful palaces stood on either side of this road.  

-You know little dog (he had not yet chosen a name) you know, little dog, I can not give you a good meal as receive those who live in these rich homes. I am only a poor beggar, look.

He took a crust of bread from his pocket.

-We will share it with both of us, half for you, half for me. But go slowly, you know, because that's all you'll receive.

Then he added:

-So also, little dog, that you will not live in a beautiful house or a palace like those we go beyond. I do not even own a cabin. We are going to sleep there, under the tree, near the bridge.

The old man lay down in a ditch overgrown with tall grass. Despite the smell, he hugged his little companion in his arms, his friend.

Suddenly, a violent storm broke out. The lightnings illuminated the black sky. Suddenly lightning fell on the tree near which the beggar and his dog were trying to sleep. They stood up, stunned by the violence of the burst.

   

Then the storm went off as quickly as it came.

The old man saw running towards him some people dressed as servants.

"Master, master, do not stay there under the storm. You are all wet. You will have cold. Come and warm up in your house. 

 They drove our friend and his little dog to the most beautiful palace in the city. All in pink and white marble. It was fully illuminated and the light was reflected on the plants of a lush garden. The servants took the old man, despite himself, into the sumptuous lobby.

-We will give you a hot bath, master, it will do you good. Then your dinner is waiting for you.

The beggar found himself in a gold bathtub. Young helpers poured scented water on him, then dressed him like a prince.

He then walked to the dining room table, covered with the best food. He sat down and ate as much as he could. Of course, he shared the best songs with his little dog.

Then the servants offered to retire to a room so beautiful he could never have imagined. Very surprised by all these events, the old beggar fell asleep in a sumptuous bed like he had never had before.

"When the master of the house returns," he said to himself, "he will throw me out, but at least I will have enjoyed a few hours of these delicious moments."

The next day, on waking, he thought at first that he had dreamed. But it was not a dream. The servants were still there. They were preparing him the best breakfast. They asked him what he wanted to do with his day. 

He discovered the beautiful palace and its wonderful gardens in the company of his little dog who seemed happy to run between the flowers.

Suddenly a carriage stopped in front of the palace door. Someone came out. The old man walked towards him with anguish and recognized the king of the country.

"Good morning," said the king. I often go by this boulevard. I meet a lot of my relationships. I had not noticed your home yet. What happiness to meet you, dear friend. I can call you dear friend, is not it? I name all the rich people in the city.

-Would you like to come inside? proposed the beggar.

-With pleasure. I will come tonight, accompanied by some ministers, bankers and other personalities. If you want to receive us at your table ...

"Good idea," stammered the old beggar. Come, I'm waiting for you here at home tonight with your colleagues.

"Soon, my dear friend.

The king's carriage departed.


The beggar returned to his palace. He called his servants and explained to them the invitation given to the king and his counselors tonight for the meal. He was very worried but his servants reassured him.

-No problem, master, we take care of everything. You will attend the most refined feasts. We will decorate the party room with taste, and we will choose the most exquisite foods.

A little before the king's arrival, the old man put on his best clothes. His servants presented him with a sumptuous table, gold dishes, crystal bowls, perfectly prepared foods, carefully selected and harmoniously presented on gold and silver trays.

He thought that his little dog was smelling very bad. Now that he was going to the king, his ministers, and rich people of high society, it was time to get rid of that stinking little dog. This animal suited as a companion to a beggar, a ragged, but not the rich man he had become. 

He took him down to the cellars of the palace and locked him in a room all black, with no window, no exit, except for the very thick entrance door, and that he closed himself by pushing three huge locks of iron. He forbids everyone to open it.

Reassured, the old beggar went back to his drawing rooms.



The king had just arrived. He greeted her in the banquet hall. Everyone sat down and we ate. During the meal, the ministers flattered him, the bankers smiled at him, the relatives of the monarch called themselves his friends.

"Your meal was absolutely delicious," said the king, at the end of dinner. Your marvelous palace, your attentive servants, but what a terrible odor under the table, at our feet, suddenly. I wonder where it comes from.

Our friend lifted the tablecloth and saw his little dog.

-Excuse, sire, excuse. I do not know this stupid beast. I wonder how he got into my palace. I will eliminate it.

The beggar grabbed the little animal unceremoniously through the skin of the neck and went down to the cellar. The three locks were still closed. He slid them. He opened the door and looked inside the prison. Empty. Totally empty.

-You, you stupid beast, I will settle your account when the king is gone.

He closed the cellar door and carefully pushed the three bolts. The rest of the meal went very well.

Towards midnight, the king and his friends left the old man, thanked him for his delicious feast, for his hospitality, and returned home in their carriage, promising to invite him soon.

"Besides," added the king, with his arm on the old beggar's shoulder, "I need a new minister and counselor. Let's talk about it tomorrow at home, dear friend.


The old man dismissed all his servants.

When he was sure he was alone, he went to the kitchens and chose a long, sharp knife. Then he went down to the cellar. He pushed the three bolts, opened the door and took his little dog under his arm. He left the palace. He crossed the gardens. He put the little animal on the ground in a corner near the hedges. He held it firmly with one hand, and on the other he squeezed the knife.

-You dare to disturb me during my feast with the king! He will appoint me minister tomorrow. I am an important and rich gentleman now. I was ashamed to introduce a friend like you. What will people think of me? I do not want the company of a dirty dog ​​like you anymore. You will die. I'll cut your throat.

The old beggar raised his weapon.

Just then, a flash of lightning tore the dark sky. The lightning fell on the knife and on the old man who rolled on the ground, stunned. He found himself under the tree near the bridge, covered with his old torn clothes, and saw his little dog running towards him. He jumped into his arms.

The storm was moving away. The beggar looked towards the place where the palace was, the beautiful clothes, the good food, all the wealth and the servants. He saw only a vacant lot, covered with weeds and mud puddles.

Then the old man realized that everything came from his little dog, a wonderful, magical little dog. And he, the beggar, had not been faithful to his friend. He had chased him off his table. He had locked him in the cellars. He had tried to kill him because he was ashamed of his lousy companion now that he frequented the rich. 

Never again did the little dog give him presents. There was never any king, no courtiers, no bankers. This magic was extinct. But the old beggar always remained faithful to his little dog. He never left him again. He always shared with him the few things he received.

Often, when he came across someone, and was asked why he kept this little dog that smelled bad, he replied that friendship is a very important thing and that one should never, ever, be ashamed of his friends, whoever they are.