Book Title: TOTO
Character Name: Toto
How would you describe your family or your childhood?
Listen, I came from humble beginnings. Eight brothers and sisters all whelped in the same potato crate gets crowded, I tell you! We were a surprise, too. Well, I mean, not to Ma--she knew we were coming, but I guess her human was pretty clueless. I can’t be too mad at him though, because if he hadn’t put a ‘free puppies’ sign on the highway, then I wouldn’t have found my Dorothy. I would have probably ended up with some goofy farm dog name like…Hank or Blue or Strawberry or something.
I don’t like to brag, but life got pretty good after that. Dorothy also lives on a farm, but it’s the best one, obviously. There’s hogs and farmhands to bother, which counts as high entertainment in a place as boring as Kansas, let me tell you. But my favorite time had to be bedtime, when Dorothy and I would indulge in some good cuddles and watch the people on her little pocket glass. The little glass-people are great, and I’ve learned most of what I know about humans from them. Things like how important it is to have a sponsor (I think that’s like glass-people gods?) and something about a “Nat 20” is really, really exciting. It must taste like bacon.
What was your greatest talent?
Oh, wiggle-buttocity for sure! I can wiggle-butt just about anywhere, quicker than a greased pig. Under fences, between legs, into the pantry where Aunt Em was keeping the Christmas ham…all the best places. Sure, sometimes my natural talent for wiggling gets me in trouble, but it also gets me out of trouble just as fast!
Significant other?
Uhm. Dorothy, duh. She is objectively the best human and has never done a wrong thing in her life. She will surely never, say, let those goobers at Animal Control take me away while uselessly crying about it. Never.
Biggest challenge in relationships?
Communication! God, I’ve tried everything. Barking. Little tippy taps. Side-eye. Barking again. Ear flickage. Eating my feelings. Eating my feelings and shoes. Barking and eating shoes. the number of times I try to guide Dorothy and the family with some gold standard dog-wisdom and they just ignore it like I don’t know my own tail. The audacity. I mean, I’ll still follow Dorothy right into trouble because, as the glass-people say, we’re an ‘adventuring party’, but I’d like it registered that I knew it was trouble first. The nose knows, okay?
Where do you live?
Imagine the flattest, grayest, most cornfed place you can imagine. Now add depression and life wrecked by late-stage capitalism. That’s Kansas. It’s like the dull beginning of every ad for pharmaceuticals right before Xylohappitoxin or whatever fixes everything. Sure, I make the best of it. Stealing socks and digging in old lady Brumley’s garden. But me and Dorothy are meant for bigger things, like destiny and boss battles and whatever that “Likeandsubscribe” stuff is the glass-people are hype about.
Do you have any enemies?
Old Lady Brumley keeps calling me a “vicious mongrel” and “scofflaw”, whatever that is. But I’m pretty sure Brumley is just mad I caught that squirrel in her garden first. I even tried to be nice and left the best, gooey-est on her backdoor stoop as a gift! There’s no pleasing some humans.
I feel like I’m supposed to say cats, but Cupcake, the old Persian that lives down the road, is really okay once you realize all cats are aliens. Cupcake likes to pretend I’m a gross bootlicker, but she doesn’t understand how good boots taste, okay? That’s where all the good stuff sticks. Cupcake is missing out, is what I’m saying.
How do you feel about the place where you are now? Is there something you are particularly attached to, or particularly repelled by, in this place?
I mean, I’m pretty much just here because Dorothy is. For the longest while, I said it was because she wasn’t fully trained yet--those puppy years are rough let me tell you. But she’s been pretty good the last few months, so I figure any day now, we’re blowing this two-bit dustbin for the big city. Or for YouTube, wherever that is.
Do you have children, pets, both, or neither?
Uncle Henry makes comments about how it was good I got “nuttered” as a pup, but I am pretty sure he’s confusing me with the squirrels. I don’t even like nuts. Kids are okay--they’re always sticky with tasty things--but they have no training in how I like my ears scritched. Dorothy has that down pat, but she’s not my kid, she’s my girl.
What do you do for a living?
I work hard, let me tell you. This farm would go entirely to pieces without me. I guess I’m supposed to be pest control, but I do so much more than that.
I’m the head of security and patrol to do “pen tests” on the regular. Those hog pens won’t test themselves. I’m quality assurance, especially when Aunt Em isn’t looking, and Uncle Henry is feeling generous with his burger. I am the head of HR, giving any new farmhand the ol’ sniffer once over. I am a media critic, watching the glass-people from Dorothy’s lap and discussing all the nuances with her. And of course, I’m a certified life coach for Dorothy. I get paid in dry kibble, but its worth it for the snuggles and table droppings. I think that’s called ‘doing it for the ‘gram.’
Greatest disappointment?
The fact that those two characters in season two of the show Dorothy watches on her pocket glass NEVER got together. We were robbed, man. Dorothy spends her time reading something online that she says fixes it - fanstick I think? I don’t know how a stick could fix that, but it seems to make her happy.
Greatest source of joy?
Digging in ol Brumley’s garden. Dirt just tastes better when you’re not supposed to have it, ya know?
What do you do to entertain yourself or have fun?
Well, there’s the aforementioned digging, but talking to the pigs and Cupcake, the cat that lives down the road, is a nice change of pace sometimes. What can I say, I’m a social pup. I sometimes talk to Dorothy even though she can’t understand me.
What keeps you awake at night?
Crickets, mostly. Though sometimes it's the glass people. Dorothy says they do something called a ‘live stream’ (I have yet to see any water though, what gives?) and you can’t just stop mid-watch.
What is the most pressing problem you have at the moment?
Listen, I didn’t want to mention it but, uh. I think Brumley saw me in the garden the other day. She didn’t catch me--I’m fast! - but pretty sure she saw enough to recognize my face. I heard her threaten Aunt Em that if she caught me in there again she was gonna call Animal Control. But I’m pretty sure they don’t exist; like the boogey man for baby pups. I’m sure it won’t have any disastrous ramifications at all, right?
Is there something that you need or want that you don’t have? For yourself or for someone important to you?
To be honest, I really want to get Dorothy off the farm. She’s obviously got all these big dog dreams and none of them include sticking around a Kansas hog farm. We could make such a splash in the big city! Like Topeka! Or Omaha! Dream big, I always say. Big things are in store for Dorothy and me. We’re a team. Just wait and see.
The true hero of The Wizard of Oz takes center stage in this brilliant, delightfully snarky reimagining from the author of The Library of the Unwritten.
I was mostly a Good Dog until they sold me out to animal control, okay?
But if it’s a choice between Oz, with its creepy little singing dudes, and being behind bars in gray old Kansas, I’ll choose the place where animals talk and run the show for now, thanks.
It’s not my fault that the kid is stuck here too, or that she stumbled into a tug-of-war over a pair of slippers that don’t even taste good. Now one witch in good eyeliner calls her pretty and we’re off on a quest? Teenagers.
I try to tell her she’s falling in with the wrong crowd when she befriends a freaking hedge wizard made of straw, that blue jay with revolutionary aspirations, and the walking tin can. Still, I’m not one to judge when there’s the small matter of a coup in the Forest Kingdom....
Look, something really stinks in Oz, and this Wizard guy and the witches positively reek of it. As usual, it’s going to be up to a sensible little dog to do a big dog’s job and get to the bottom of it.
And trust me: Little dogs can get away with anything.
Young Adult | Mystery Private Eye | Romance [Ace, On Sale: November 12, 2024, Trade Paperback / e-Book, ISBN: 9780593546574 / eISBN: 9780593546581]
A. J. Hackwith is (almost) certainly not an ink witch in a hoodie. She’s a queer writer of fantasy and science fiction living in Seattle, and writes sci-fi romance as Ada Harper. She is a graduate of the Viable Paradise writer’s workshop and her work appears in Uncanny Magazine and assorted anthologies. Summon A.J. at your own peril with an arcane circle of fountain pens and classic RPGs, or you can find her on Twitter and other dark corners of the Internet.
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