As time went on and the Fang baby grew ever larger, the time approached for Mrs Fang to don her bright yellow T Shirt and return to work as a self employed cleaner. Around the same period a dog kennel arrived and was immediately assembled. Mrs Fang had clearly lured White Fang in to it, slammed the door shut and left him. No introduction, no period of adjustment – nothing. Clearly distraught, Fang howled pitifully and loudly for the entire afternoon.
Mrs Scruff’s dogs were upset and spent time at the fence separating them from the incarcerated Fang. Even Mrs Scruff was not a happy bunny, for whilst she might be a stranger to a damp cloth, she doesn’t mistreat her animals.
Eventually, Mrs F returned and released White Fang who understandably wouldn’t go near the kennel again. Whilst the kennel appeared large, it was in fact partitioned so that the other half could double as a shed – a sort of “man cupboard” for Mr Fang!
Although I wasn’t involved, I was party to the conversation which took place later when Mr Fang returned from work and a complaint was made about the failure to slowly expose Fang to his jail and lessen his distress. Mrs Fang didn’t appear in person but cowardly hurled insults from inside the house culminating in the declaration ” ees a friggin’ ‘usky” (for those for whom northern isn’t a first language, I translate – He is a frigging husky) as if the possession of a thicker coat and David Bowie eyes would naturally prepare him for all canine hardships. The fact that he was outside was not the issue but she ranted on aggressively although she wouldn’t appear in person to discuss it rationally. I do know that the complainer was actually going round to offer to exercise him whilst she was working to help but didn’t actually get that far as Mrs Fang was so keen to state that they’d just had a baby and she had to go back to work. No mention was made of the extra financial burden of their own making in having just bought a large brand new car in which to transport her mop bucket and dusters. Mr Fang slammed the front door shut bringing the conversation swiftly to an end.
I’m guessing that they did feel some pangs of remorse and guilt given that they wouldn’t open any curtains for two days. It transpired, sometime later, that someone had posted a letter through their door also complaining. I don’t know who exactly but my money is on Megane man two doors up who is at home all day waiting for a kidney.
One morning, the curtains opened! Enter Granddad Fang as chief child and dog carer. Like some aged keeper of the Waltzers at the local fairground (think more Status Quo than David Essex), he appeared each day in his stone washed denim jacket and jeans. Every hour, just like his daughter before him he went outside for ” a fag”. But, at least, the situation for Fang was resolved happily and Granddad Fang did play with him a little during the “fag” breaks.
The kennel remained unused as Fang wouldn’t go near it. Mrs Fang made a public display of filling it with his toys but Fang wasn’t having any of it. I actually saw Mrs Fang sitting hunched up in there to shield herself and her fag from the rain! A Lilliputian smoking shelter!! You couldn’t make it up. It was probably at that point she bitterly regretted the fact that the kennel door faced her neighbours!
So, what to do with the void? A dilemma. But not for master of invention and he of the power tools, Mr Fang. A bit of modification later and Mr Fang together with his new Bob the Builder tool belt had created a laundry room. Never mind it was only 4ft high – it was functional and they were going to use it. An extension reel clad in a plastic bag trailed from the house and a palette donated from Mr Scruff’s collection to keep the dryer from the actual patio flags were the chief safety features. Mr Scruff was called in to help manouevre the tumble dryer in to position. Ta da!
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I witnessed Mr Fang virtually bent double on his knees actually using it and folding the laundry before putting it in to the washing basket. A few modifications to the roof later after a heavy downpour must have highlighted the faults…and leaks and MKII was created!
It didn’t last too much longer and the kennel was noticeable by it’s absence. All their belongings piled into a tranny van and a few trips later they were gone. But, to be fair, Mrs Fang did return and clean the place thoroughly before vacating for a final time. The patio slabs, now devoid of the laundry room positively gleamed.
So that was it, the Fangs reigned no more and that chapter finally closed. The house wasn’t empty for all that long but that’s a tale for another day.