Cruella Deville – A Writing Exercise
The writing task was to take a well known story and write it from the point of view of the villain. I chose to skip the part that we’ve all seen at the pictures. This task was given to the writing group by Elizabeth Horrocks. (Winsford Writing Group.) Why not have a go yourself and pop it in the comments.
‘Bloody dogs,’ Cruella spat as she cradled her ankle.
All she’d been doing was carrying home the Sunday joint from the butchers, when the two Dalmatian dogs had attacked. One bit her ankle as the other leapt up and grabbed the meat.
‘I’ll get you, you bloody spotted vermin. If it takes the rest of my life, I’ll get you all and make your smelly hides into a freaking coat.’
Her voice petered out as she watched the two dogs disappear round the corner. She sat on the ground distraught. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t her fault. The fact was the joint was gone. Mother was going to be annoyed but father…
She shuddered. The bruises on her back hadn’t healed yet from last week.
Thirty Years Later
‘Well Ms Deville, now that you’ve been sentenced for dognapping, do you regret your actions?’ asked Doctor White.
‘Of course I do. I got caught. But if I’d had just one more day those rotten little pests would have been a spotted coat and maybe a matching handbag. Why did God give them spots if they weren’t meant to be a fashion accessory?’
‘Now Ms Deville, did you ever think how sad the people would be who lost their dogs?’
‘They shouldn’t be allowed to spoil our planet. Bloody poop machines.’
‘You know there are people for whom their dog is their only friend. Some think of their dogs as their surrogate baby. Can you imagine the distress they feel at losing their dogs?’ said Doctor White.
‘Sad gits,’ said Cruella. ‘They need to get a life.’
‘So, who is in your life Cruella? Who loves you?’
‘No-one and certainly not a bloody dog.’
‘Well I can see we’re not making progress here. Anyway, what I’ve decided would be the best therapy for you, is if you worked in a dog rescue centre and I’ve arranged that for you, starting tomorrow.’
‘You’re joking, right?’
‘Now let me just remind you Cruella that if you want early release, you won’t harm these dogs and you’ll treat them properly.’
‘Oh I’ll do whatever I have to do, but you won’t change my opinion of stinking mutts.’
On the first day of her work experience she was supervised by Sharon. She had to clean the litter trays and change the water in each kennel. Most of the dogs ignored her as she didn’t talk to them or stroke them, but one shaggy white dog, called Moppet, rushed up to greet her.
‘Go away mutt,’ she said as she performed her duties.
For the next few weeks this scenario was repeated, but as time passed Moppet’s greeting became more subdued, until one day she lay on the floor and lifted her head to look at Cruella, looked quizzically and rested her head back down on the floor.
‘What’s up with her?’ Cruella asked Sharon.
‘She’s depressed. Nobody wants her, because she’s not very pretty and although she likes you, she knows you don’t like her. Still there’s nothing we can do about that.’
Sharon walked off to prepare the other dogs’ food.
Cruella looked at Moppet, who had closed her eyes and put a paw across her face. She walked over to her and sat down beside her.
‘I don’t know how Sharon can say you’re not very pretty. I think you’re the best looking dog here.’
Tenderly she stretched out her hand and stroked Moppet. After a few moments Moppet started to nuzzle up to her and soon she laid her head on Cruella’s lap.
Sharon watched from a distance and smiled to herself.
The next day Cruella said to Sharon, ‘When I get out of here, I’ll take Moppet. Will you keep her for me?’
‘I thought you weren’t too keen on dogs.’
‘I’m not, but Moppet’s different.’
‘Well I’ll see what we can do.’
Cruella went over to Moppet’s kennel and she jumped up, wagging her tail.
At their next meeting, Doctor White said, ‘Do you now understand how important a dog can be to someone?’
Cruella bit back a rude comment. She wanted Moppet to come home with her when she left.
‘I suppose I do. I won’t take anyone else’s dog, but I do want Moppet and she wants me.’
‘So I’ve heard,’ said Doctor White.
And so it was that one of the most hard- nosed dognappers can now be seen walking with her dog, Moppet, through the woods early every morning, and if you peeped through her window later in the day, you might see them sharing a sofa and a meat pasty, watching the television.