Bugg Street Buggsy

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I had just finished a nighttime shift and was ready to hit the timothy hay when she hopped into my life. Being a nocturnal creature by nature I was tired and looked forward to sprawling out and catching a few winks. But it was not to be as I got a whiff of her before she ever rounded the corner. The scent would have been enough to drive any normal male into a raging frenzy, but I’ve learned over the years to keep my emotions in check. It’s my job and I’m the best at it. 

I had just enough time to lick my paws and slick my ears back before she entered my world. To say she was stunning would be an understatement. She was spectacular. I hadn’t seen anyone that fabulous since the week before when I caught a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror. 

Her nose twitched as she sized me up. It was a natural reaction. I get it all the time from the females. Her whiskers were slightly curved and she had the biggest darkest eyes ever to grace a Lagomorpha. For a moment I was dazzled as I could clearly see my entire reflection in those bright gorgeous spherical organs called eyes. God, I’m handsome! At my invitation she turned to take a seat and I gasped at the beauty that was staring me in the face. She had the cutest, fluffiest, white cotton tail I had ever seen, outside of mine. Of course, I knew mine had to be softer. Fighting the urge to thump my foot I took a seat across from her. 

“Buggsy’s the name. What’s your game?”

“I need to hire your services,” she purred.

“I’m not cheap.”

“Cost is no problem,” she offered. “I just need the best detective there is.”

“You’ve found him, doll.”

“How did you know my name?” she asked with a surprised smile.

“Your name’s Doll?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I told you I’m the best.”

“Then, I want to hire you,” she declared. “I’ve lost some jewelry and it must be found.”

“How many carrots?”

“One.”

“That figures.”

“Will you help me, Buggsy?” she asked in a voice sweet enough to decay my two top front teeth.

“What you worried about, sis? Carrots are a dime a dozen, or at the most, ninety-nine cent a pound.”

“Some things are more valuable than money,” she offered.

“I can’t think of any.”

“Well, this is,” she declared.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Will you help me?” she begged as her paw gently came to rest on mine. I swallowed hard as my foot wanted to bang the floor to the beat of my racing heart.

“Tell me your story.” 

She was of the Oryctolagus Cuniculus family. They originated in Europe and were known world wide for their wealth. It was old money but who cares? Old or new, I’ll spend it. I munched on a treat as she told me of her life and why she needed my help. 

Her family had moved across the ocean from the Old Country years ago to make a new home in the colonies. They had settled on a hillside in Virginia. It was called Mount Vernon and they stayed there until an old man in a white powdered wig forced them off the land. From there they spread and multiplied all over the eastern seaboard. She now lived with her parents in an expensive borough over on Blueberry Hill. To know this gave me a thrill as it was really not far from my street, Bugg Street. I felt the excitement rising in me as I relished the thought of being that close to cold hard cash. 

Her father, forever wanting to protect his family and fortune, had entrusted their security to a rabbit named Jack. I had never met him but I knew of him. On several occasions I had to clean up the mess that donkey eared varmint had left.

“Do you know Jack?” interjected Doll.

“No, I don’t know Jack.” 

She slowly sobbed as she related how her father had signed a contract with Jack and had given him the jewelry as collateral. In turn, Jack misplaced that trust and bet it all on his brother to win a footrace with a tortoise. His no-good sibling actually lost the race to that slow-witted reptile and lost all Jack’s money including Doll’s jewelry. I smelled a rat. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the trap spring into action. That was the last of that rat. Of course, now the smell would get even worse. 

Turning my attention back to her story I found it difficult to concentrate as I lovingly gazed at myself in the mirror across the room. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the jewelry, all one carrot of it, was probably at the chop shop by now. No doubt it’d already been sliced and diced and spread out on some salad heap somewhere.  

“Oh, Buggsy, do you think you can get my jewelry back for me?” she cried as her ears flopped all the way to the floor.

“Sure, Doll. That’s what I do.”

“Oh, thank you, Buggsy,” she declared as she once again placed her paw on top of mine.

“You don’t come down here to Bugg Street very often, do you, Doll?”

“This is my first time,” she breathed.

“Then you’d better let me walk you out.”

“The crime is that bad down here?” she asked with a somewhat surprised tone.

“Naw, it’s not bad at all. I just wanta walk you out.” I knew she would have to be excited to be seen in public with a fine hare like me. 

After we parted ways I hopped on down to my favorite club, the Grainey Gourmet. It was always open and was one of my best sources for information, and besides, I was a celebrity there. Everybody knew my name and would yell it every time I came in. To this day I’ve never learned how they figured out my nickname is “Norm.” The talk was loud, the laughter louder, and the thumping unreal. One cat was dancing wildly as he played with his pet mouse. I knew illegal catnip had to be involved. 

Peter, the bartender, was busy as I scratched my way through the crowd and found a place next to the bar. I signed a few autographs as I waited for him to work his way to me. One dude had scraps of paper that looked like checks. I’ve learned over the years people will grab anything they can to write on when a celebrity of my stature walks in. He wanted my autograph on ten of them. I was happy to oblige a true fan. Finally, Peter quit flirting with the Furr twins and made his way to me. 

“The usual, Buggsy?” he asked in that familiar rich baritone voice.

“Sure.” 

He knew what I liked: Carrot juice with a twist of celery. We all have our vices.

“So, Buggsy, what you been up to?” Peter asked as he set my drink down in front of me.

“Just doing my job.”

“What is it this time?” he inquired as a fight broke out in the corner between a cockroach and a stink beetle. I was pulling for the cockroach.

“It’s the missing carrot caper.”

“A stolen carrot?” he pondered for a moment as the stink beetle came scurrying by as he fled for his life. “Just one?”

“Yeah, just one.”

“Hmm, well, that’s interesting,” he offered as he brushed his right ear out of his eyes. I knew what it would take to get him to talk, so I spit out a raisin I’d been carrying between my cheek and teeth and offered it to him. “Spill the beans, Peter.” 

He thought it over for a moment and then dumped a plate of beans onto the counter. They were Mexican jumping beans.

“Follow the beans,” he offered. 

I watched as they danced all the way to the end of the bar. They stopped right at a small rabbit sipping on a concoction of watered down carrot juice and wilted celery. I smiled to myself. The little fellow wasn’t big enough to handle the real stuff. As I approached him I realized I had seen him before on Bugg Street. 

“Hello, Diner.”

“The name’s Dinner,” he curtly replied.

“Diner—Dinner, whatever.”

“It’s my name, so get it right,” he bristled. I could tell he was uptight about something so I tried to ease the tension.

“What kind of loony parents would give their kid a name like that?”

“I’ll have you know my parents didn’t name me,” he snorted. “It was some old short fat white-haired guy. He thought it was cute.”

“If you say so.”

“Did you come here to just make fun of my name or is there something you want?” he asked as I grabbed the raisin when Peter turned his back.

“Word is you might know something about a missing carrot.”

“What’s it to you?” he asked as nasty as he could.

“There might be a reward for the right information.” 

He was about to tell me something when we were interrupted by the Furr twins taking to the stage. I paused as I knew they were going to sing my favorite song. It was about me. 

Peter stepped to the microphone and yelled, “Varmints, here they are: The Furr twins.” The place went wild. Finally, someone shouted for me to shut up and when I did the place got quieter. I leaned back and listened to my favorite singers. 

♫ His name is Buggsy,

He’s one cute rabbit.

His name is Buggsy,

With one bad habit.

He’s as cute as cute can be,

But if you hold him he’s gonna pee. 

O Buggsy, O Buggsy,

You’d make a wonderful pet.

O Buggsy, O Buggsy,

If you hold him you’re gonna get wet. 

O Buggsy, O Buggsy,

Everyone knows it’s true.

But it’s okay, O Buggsy,

Cause we’re so in love with you. 

We’re so in love with you—. ♫ 

Of course, the whistles and cheers went on for the longest time. Finally, I realized I was the only one left shouting so I settled down to see what information I could force out of Dinner. When I looked around, he was gone. The little critter had skipped out on me. 

I was scanning the room for him when I noticed the cockroach slipping out the side door. My keen instincts told me to follow him into the ally. Besides, I wanted to leave before Peter noticed his raisin was gone. 

The alleyway was smelly, dirty, and dingy. I loved it. With my lightning reflexes I grabbed the cockroach and pinned him against the side of the building. 

“Let me go, you over sized egotistical fur ball,” he shrieked.

“Don’t get cocky cockroach.”

“I can’t help it, that’s who I am,” he offered as I could smell his fear, which was pretty amazing considering how bad the rest of him smelled.

“Work with me or I’ll squash you like a bug.”

“I am a bug,” he protested.

“Don’t try to change the subject. I’ve seen you hanging out with that little rabbit critter. Tell me where he is or I’ll open up a can of bug spray on you.” 

A voice from the end of the ally interrupted my fun, “I’m over here Buggsy. Let the roach go.” I backed away and the mangy pest took off and scurried down a drain pipe. The stench of the cockroach lingered so I licked my paws clean as the small rabbit approached me. 

“So, what you running from, Supper?”

“The name’s Dinner,” he smirked. “You’re getting too close, Buggsy. You’d better watch yourself.” 

I’d had enough so I slammed him hard against a brick building. He struggled to free himself but I held him fast with my superior strength. I was momentarily distracted by the sight of my bulging biceps. 

“Quit playing these stupid little games! You either start talking, Dinner, or I’ll have you for lunch. And if that doesn’t work I’ll have you for breakfast. Or if you prefer I could have you for brunch, or how about as a snack? It could be midday or a midnight snack. Either way you’re toast.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk if you’ll just please shut up,” he begged as I released my grip on him.

“Good, cause I was making myself hungry.”

“Buggsy, there’s more going on than you know about,” he explained as I munched on the raisin. 

Before he could say anything else a bullet buzzed by my ear and tickled my whiskers. I would have taken a direct hit but, fortunately, I had noticed my reflection in a water puddle and had bent over for a closer look. 

“Back off lop ear,” came the voice from the end of the ally. “The kid goes with me.” 

I turned around to see one of the funniest looking animals I have ever seen in my life. He had a long snout, a very slender body with an extremely small stomach, and very long legs. Trying always to be a gentleman I suppressed a smile. 

“You are definitely the funniest looking creature I’ve ever seen!”

“Laugh all you want hairball,” he snarled as Dinner broke free from my grip as I doubled over with laughter. “I’ve eaten lots of little bunnies like you.”

“I bet there’s been none better than me.”

“I’ll let you know in a couple of minutes,” he growled as he inched forward down the ally. With a look of terror on his face Dinner took off in the opposite direction. I was not impressed.

“Why would you shoot at me?”

“It wasn’t me,” he offered as he crouched in a stalking position. “It must have been a random drive by shooting.”

“I know what you mean. This neighborhood has really gone down hill over the last few years. It wasn’t that way when I first moved here.”

“I wouldn’t know I don’t live here,” he howled as he kept moving closer.

“I don’t blame you with all the crime, not to mention the high taxes and the cost of living. I’ve thought about moving if I can find a decent neighborhood. What about where you live? What’s the going rate for a three level borough?”

“Uh, well,” he stopped and looked up as he contemplated my question. “You know, I’ve lived there so long now I haven’t paid any attention to what it cost.”

“Well, if you find out please let me know. By the way, my name’s Buggsy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Buggsy. My name’s Blue,” he said as he approached. “I’m a dog.”

“A dog?!?”

“Yep, I’m a greyhound,” he replied. I had heard of greyhounds. They chase mechanical rabbits around a race track. It seemed a total waste of time to me.

“You’re a greyhound and your name is Blue?”

“Yep, that’s right,” he smiled as he dropped his head with a slight hint of embarrassment. “My brother’s named Whitey and my sister’s named Red.” It was quite obvious this was a well bred animal that had worked hard to establish and maintain his dignity and honor. No doubt he was highly respected in many high society circles. I could almost appreciate that.

“My God, man, that’s awful! You’re supposed to be gray and your name’s Blue? How do you even show your face in public? Have you no shame?”

“Well, I’ve never really thought about it,” he humbly replied as his head dropped again. His discomfort was apparent.

Always sensitive to other creature’s feelings, I realized I had probably gone too far.

“What’s your mother’s name, Purple!?”

“Huh?!? What?!?” he stammered as I slapped my thigh with laughter. “Hey, don’t you say nothing bad about my mother!”

“I bet your old man’s named Yellow!”

“Yeah, it is…Hey! Wait a minute!” he barked as I turned in preparation to make a swift getaway. “You’re gonna pay for that!!” 

I took off down the alleyway with my powerful hind legs propelling me as fast as any rabbit could go. With the big dumb looking dog in close pursuit I darted to the right and then to the left as we ran out onto the main road. The greyhound kept chase as we flew down the sidewalks adjacent to the clothing stores on Bugg Street. Glancing to the side I was able to clearly see my reflection in the store’s front windows. I was impressed with how good I looked running at full throttle. It was awesome. 

I was surprised how he kept pace with me as we flew down the street. As we circled around and came back to the alley I could hear some very heavy panting. I figured the dog was starting to tire until I realized it was me who was gasping for air. The raisin I had snacked on was weighing me down. 

As we were winding our way to the end of the alley the cockroach came strolling out of the drain pipe. Not wanting to have to touch that filthy insect again I kicked high into the air. When I did I caught the greyhound directly on the end of his nose. With a yelp and a cry he fell to the ground. When I saw him writhing in pain I stopped and came back to asked him if he was all right. 

“You didn’t have to go and hit me in my nose,” he cried.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to touch the roach, you know.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to kick so hard,” he bawled. “Is it bleeding?”

“No, it’s not. Well, there is something running. It might be snot.”

“You shouldn’t be so rough,” he continued. “You’re gonna hurt somebody.”

“I really didn’t mean to kick you. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, just leave me alone,” he moaned as he slowly rose to his feet. “I’m gonna go home and I don’t want to ever see you again.”

“If you join me in the Grainey Gourmet I’ll buy you a drink.”

“No, thank you.”

“Carrot juice with a twist of celery?” 

I could tell by his growl he wasn’t interested. He turned and silently trotted down the alley. I almost felt sorry for the big guy. No one should look that ugly. 

“I’m sorry. I really am.” 

As he rounded the corner Dinner came out from hiding in the shadows and exclaimed, “Wow! Buggsy. You took care of him.”

“It’s my job. It’s what I do.” 

Out of the shadow emerged another rabbit. Without asking I knew it was Jack. He was wearing a name tag on his collar. It read, “Jack.” He looked at me long and hard and then offered, “You’re good, rabbit.”

“I’m the best.”

“That hound and his buddies have been after me for days,” he explained. “That no good tortoise hired them to track me down.”

“Oh, my God!”

“What’s wrong, Buggsy?” asked a concerned Dinner. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’ve got dog snot on the bottom of my foot.”

“I found out he cheated when he raced my brother,” Jack continued as I licked my foot clean. “He put sleeping pills in the water bowl when my brother wasn’t looking. The no good reptile!”

“So, he slipped some sleeping pills.”

“Yes, he did,” agreed Jack as he wiped my spittle off his face. “I knew there was no way he could win without cheating.”

“So, you snuck in and stole the carrot when he wasn’t looking.”

“Actually, I never gave it to him,” he declared. “That’s why he’s been looking for me. With those hounds hot on my trail I’ve been hiding. Dinner’s been my lookout for me.”

“The little fellows all right.”

“I don’t think that dog will be back after what you did, Buggsy,” offered Dinner. “Jack, you don’t have to hide anymore.”

“I believe the kid’s right. You give me the carrot and I’ll smooth it over with Doll and her father.”

“I’ve never liked you, Buggsy,” revealed Jack as Dinner went to get the carrot. “You think you’re better than everybody else.” It was hard to argue with his logic.

We parted our ways after I took possession of Doll’s jewelry. I hadn’t gone too far when Dinner came running up to me. Out of breath he panted, “Buggsy.”

“Yes, kid?”

“Would it be all right if I hung around you for awhile?” I smiled at him. The kid was okay.

“Sure, kid.”

“Buggsy, do you think you could show me how to be a detective?” he asked with wide eyed excitement.

“Sure, kid. Do you like raisins?” 

The next day I was sprawled out on the floor when I heard someone enter my office. I sniffed the air and immediately knew who it was.

“Hello, Doll.”

“Hi, Buggsy,” she breathed in almost a whisper. “I got your message when I stopped by the Grainey Gourmet.”

“I’ve got your jewelry.”

“Oh, Buggsy!” she shrieked as I found myself gazing into her eyes.

“I told you I was good.”

“You found the whole carrot?”

“Yes, the whole carrot.” 

She eagerly took it from me and held it close to her bosom as I adjusted my stance so as to peer into her eyes. With a satisfied look on her face she said, “You’re the greatest, Buggsy. I don’t care what nasty things they say about you down at the Grainey Gourmet.”

“What do they say?”

“Oh, you know, that song the Furr twins sing about you,” she revealed as she shyly looked away. “The song about your one bad habit.”

“I like that song. It’s about me.”

“But it’s not true, is it?” she hopefully asked as she twirled the carrot with her paws.

“Of course, not.”

Her attention was diverted by the carrot. She looked at me and smiled, “There’s a chunk missing.”

“I told you I wasn’t cheap.”

“Well, you’re worth every nibble,” she declared as I longingly looked in those gorgeous big eyes. “You know, Buggsy, I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“There’s only one me.”

“I mean I’ve met a lot of rabbits in my life but eventually they always bore me,” she continued as I figured out if I stood on my tiptoes I could see my whole magnificent frame reflected in her eyes. It was almost as good as a mirror.

“But the way you look at me is different. I’ve never had a male gaze into my face the way you do.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“I hope you see something you like,” she blushed.

“I sure do, baby. I sure do.”

“Then come over here and let me hold you,” she purred.

“Sure, Doll, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Where you going, Buggsy?” she pouted as I rounded the corner.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom.” 

That was six months ago. Since then I’ve retired and turned my detective business over to my partner Dinner. I had to. Doll and I got married and I’ve been busy starting a family and trying to spend all her father’s money. 

Life is good. No more running down smelly alleys and hanging out in sleazy clubs. I’m a family man now with a wife and two little cute bunnies. God, I miss those smelly alleys and sleazy clubs. But, Doll loves me almost as much as I do, my children are the best, and there’s no shortage of raisins. We named our kids Harry and Harriet. I can tell Harriet is going to grow up and be gorgeous like her mother, with those big bright eyes. Even now I find myself staring at her. Doll says Harry is the spitting image of his father. She says he has my good looks and acts just like me. I agree he is cute and cuddly but there will always be only one Bugg Street Buggsy. 

Oh, let me give you one final word of advice: If you ever go to hold Harry, please be careful. You might want to use a towel. 

In loving memory of the little fur ball named Dinner who passed away on September 11, 2009 and to that lovable old man, Buggsie, who keeps churning along with the loving help of my daughter, Jennifer.

 Update: Buggsie lived a long life but passed away in 2013. He is missed.

THE END

Copyright ©2010 by Jerry W. Crews