Reaux

Predator

Long ago, in a different time and place, I had two wonderful dogs. There was Sweet Basil the black lab, my duck dog, and there was Summer Savory an American Water Spaniel. Savory was the only dog I’ve ever known that would fall asleep as she was crawling onto a couch, sound asleep, with her rear legs firmly planted on the floor whilst her upper body rested on the cushions. Basil was the smarter of the two and she was in season.

One night I let the two of them out to the large, securely fenced, backyard while I went to brush my teeth preparatory to retiring to bed. Finishing brushing I went to the door to call the dogs in; just in time to see a lop-eared mutant Chihuahua mix crawl up and over the chain link fence. I watched as he sauntered up to the now saucy, coquettish, slut that Basil had become, “Sorry dude, you’re not getting my Basil” I muttered. Grabbing the nearest weapon at hand, a Wiffle ball bat, I slipped out the door and began stalking the ugly mule-eared would be suitor of my Basil. I had become Predator and my quarry was in sight, silently I made my way forward taking full advantage of whatever cover was available. When the time was right Predator broke cover and Wiffle bat in hand charged forth, the startled prey bolted for the fence.

The Predator had reverted to his ancestral Paleolithic self, striding, naked, (well I was just about to go to bed) across the veldt wielding his weapon as he closed upon his prey. The prey made for the fence but realizing that too much time would be consumed in climbing the fence doubled back narrowly avoiding the on-rushing Predator. Predator slowly but surely gained on the frantic prey. In a last valiant effort prey darted under the multi-flora rose bush, the Predator, however, crashes, at full speed into the embrace of the thorny canes. Trapped, Predator can only watch in futile rage as quarry makes its escape, up and over the fence. Predator sets about trying to extricate himself, when suddenly, he hears the screen door slam shut and sees his mate approach.

“Bill, what the hell is going on?” Predator’s mate asks. Predator explains, and hisses “How about turning that flashlight out, so the neighbors don’t see.” “And how about getting the clippers and cutting me loose?” Predator snarled. “Hic, hic, hiccup, snort” followed by a cataclysmic failure of the reservoir of her reserve, a tsunami of laughter poured forth from Predator’s mate “Ha! Ha, ha, whahaha, Ha! Hee, Hee, Oh Boy!!”

Eventually, Predator’s mate cuts him free; bloodied and wiser Predator limps back to his lair to lick his wounds.

True story,

Bill

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Reaux