Free Tales of the Wold Newton Universe by Philip José Farmer

alarming that I was forced to completely alter my lifestyle. I decided to look around for some considerably less pretentious and expensive domicile than the Hamburg Hilton.
    On the very day I’d come to this conclusion, I was standing at the Kennzeichen Bar when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Wincing (it was the wounded shoulder), I turned around. I recognized young blonde Stampfert, who had been an anesthetist under me at the Neustadt Hospital. (I’ve had a broad experience of women in many nations and on three continents, so much so in fact that I’d considered entering gynecology.) Stampfert had a beautiful body but a drab personality. I was lonely, however, and I hailed her enthusiastically. She, in turn, seemed glad to see me, I suppose because she wanted to flaunt her newly acquired engagement ring. The first thing I knew, I had invited her to lunch. We took the bus to the Neu Bornholt, and on the way I outlined my adventures of the past year.
    “Poor devil!” she said. “So what’s happening now?”
    “Looking for a cheap apartment,” I said. “But I doubt that it’s possible to get a decent place at a reasonable rate. The housing shortage and its partner, inflation, will be with us for a long time.”
    “That’s a funny thing,” Stampfert said. “You’re the second... person... today who has said almost those exact words.”
    “And who was the first?”
    “Someone who’s just started a new professional career,” Stampfert said. “He’s having a hard go of it just now. He’s looking for a roommate to share not only expenses but a partnership. Someone who’s experienced in police work. You seem to fit the bill. The only thing is...”
    She hesitated, and I said, “If he’s easy to get along with, I’d be delighted to share the expenses with him. And work is something I need badly.”
    “Well, there’s more to it than that, though he is easy to get along with. Lovable, in fact.”
    She hesitated, then said, “Are you allergic to animals?”
    I stared at her and said, “Not at all. Why, does this man have pets?”
    “Not exactly,” Stampfert said, looking rather strange.
    “Well, then, what is it?”
    “There is a dog,” she said. “A highly intelligent... police dog.”
    “Don’t tell me this fellow is blind?” I said. “Not that it will matter, of course.”
    “Just color-blind,” she said. “His name is Ralph.”
    “Yes, go on,” I said. “What about Herr Ralph?”
    “That’s his first name,” Stampfert said. “His full name is Ralph von Wau Wau.”
    “What?” I said, and then I guffawed. “A man whose last name is a dog’s bark?” (In Germany “wau wau”—pronounced vau vau—corresponds to the English “bow wow.”)
    Suddenly, I said, “Ach!” I had just remembered where I had heard, or rather read, of von Wau Wau.
    “What you’re saying,” I said slowly, “is that the dog is also the fellow who wants to share the apartment and is looking for a partner?”
    Stampfert nodded.

2
THE SCIENCE OF ODOROLOGY
    And so, fifteen minutes later, we entered the apartment building at 12 Bellener Street and took the elevator to the second story. Stampfert rang the bell at 2K, and a moment later the door swung in. This operation had been effected by an electrical motor controlled by an on-off button on a control panel set on the floor in a corner. This, it was obvious, had been pressed by the paw of the dog now trotting toward us. He was the largest police dog I’ve ever seen, weighing approximately one hundred and sixty pounds. He had keen eyes which were the deep lucid brown of a bottle of maple syrup at times and at other times the opaque rich brown of a frankfurter. His face was black, and his back bore a black saddlemark.
    “Herr Doktor Weisstein, Herr Ralph von Wau Wau,” said Stampfert.
    He grinned, or at least opened his jaws, to reveal some very long and sharp teeth.
    “Come in, please, and make yourself at home,” he said.
    Though I’d been warned,