It was a tossup between eagle, fox, coyote, or bees. Coyote won, but I’m still going to find a way to magically shove all these things into one post. LMFAO. Thank you for letting me play Oaxaca, my little kiwi man, and easing me back into puppy adoption. ♥
Please let Olive post first. [He is still alive, at this point.]
Please let Olive post first. [He is still alive, at this point.]
A sweet, sticky scent attracted Oaxaca’s attention, and he ambled away from mama with his Beyoncé hips shimmying voluptuously from side to side behind the rolling barrel of his abdomen. [ Waistline? What waistline? ] He stopped at the base of a very tall tree, oversized paws planted against the gnarled wood, cocking his head this way and that at the strange droning bzzz that filled the air above him. He could see little dots in the air and knew them to be some kind of bug — but he didn’t know whether these ones were the delicious kind or the never-put-in-mouth-again kind. The sweet smell seemed to be coming from up there, though, so I mean, odds are, they fell into the former category. “Hey — bug?” he inquired casually.
No answer. Well, they looked busy, anyway.
Untroubled, Oaxaca busied himself with a new task: finding something pretty to take home for mama. Ever since the other day, she’d been different in a way that her thirdborn couldn’t define. He was so innately connected to her rhythm and her rhyme that he knew things just weren’t right — not that she shirked in her care of her children. If anything, she was more nurturing and more protective. If he’d possessed the vocabulary and the wherewithal to use metaphors, he might’ve said her song was out of tune.
The cry of an eagle overhead didn’t trouble Oaxaca, who hadn’t lived long enough to fear them; and he bypassed this threat by sheer luck — or maybe the eagle saw him and was like, “Yeah, no, that looks really heavy and I just have a shopping basket, and I mean, I could go get a cart, but I’d have to walk all the way back to the front of the store, so I’m gonna have to pass.” He watched with rapt fascination as the staggeringly large bird of prey descended upon something much more portable — a fox kit — and had the good sense to run back toward mama, gift or no gift. It was on his way back to @Olive that the fourth horseman struck.
A coyote, long of ear and bushy of tail, clipped Oaxaca as he bumbled across the familiar terrain; the pain was so great it shocked a scream out of the boy who never cried, though the high-pitched wail clotted in his throat — she was coming again! He wedged himself between the cracked roots of a tree and trembled, blood bubbling brightly at his nostrils. Her lower fangs had connected with the blunt angle where his muzzle-bridge met the dome of his skull — fortunately his eyes were intact — and her upper fangs had scored the flesh at the base of his skull where it met his nape. Now he turned, trying to get away, and her sharp teeth grabbed for his jutting hind limb. She yanked, and at first there was a searing pain — worse than when she’d bitten his face — but very quickly there was nothing. Strangely, he couldn’t seem to move anything below his waist. He didn’t realize that he was bleeding out — she had severed the femoral artery. Everything was beginning to get hazy, but mercifully, he didn’t feel anything anymore — just a weird sort of urgency that he wanted his mama.
She was probably already on her way, but he bleated for her anyway. “Mama? Mama!”
No answer. Well, they looked busy, anyway.
Untroubled, Oaxaca busied himself with a new task: finding something pretty to take home for mama. Ever since the other day, she’d been different in a way that her thirdborn couldn’t define. He was so innately connected to her rhythm and her rhyme that he knew things just weren’t right — not that she shirked in her care of her children. If anything, she was more nurturing and more protective. If he’d possessed the vocabulary and the wherewithal to use metaphors, he might’ve said her song was out of tune.
The cry of an eagle overhead didn’t trouble Oaxaca, who hadn’t lived long enough to fear them; and he bypassed this threat by sheer luck — or maybe the eagle saw him and was like, “Yeah, no, that looks really heavy and I just have a shopping basket, and I mean, I could go get a cart, but I’d have to walk all the way back to the front of the store, so I’m gonna have to pass.” He watched with rapt fascination as the staggeringly large bird of prey descended upon something much more portable — a fox kit — and had the good sense to run back toward mama, gift or no gift. It was on his way back to @Olive that the fourth horseman struck.
A coyote, long of ear and bushy of tail, clipped Oaxaca as he bumbled across the familiar terrain; the pain was so great it shocked a scream out of the boy who never cried, though the high-pitched wail clotted in his throat — she was coming again! He wedged himself between the cracked roots of a tree and trembled, blood bubbling brightly at his nostrils. Her lower fangs had connected with the blunt angle where his muzzle-bridge met the dome of his skull — fortunately his eyes were intact — and her upper fangs had scored the flesh at the base of his skull where it met his nape. Now he turned, trying to get away, and her sharp teeth grabbed for his jutting hind limb. She yanked, and at first there was a searing pain — worse than when she’d bitten his face — but very quickly there was nothing. Strangely, he couldn’t seem to move anything below his waist. He didn’t realize that he was bleeding out — she had severed the femoral artery. Everything was beginning to get hazy, but mercifully, he didn’t feel anything anymore — just a weird sort of urgency that he wanted his mama.
She was probably already on her way, but he bleated for her anyway. “Mama? Mama!”
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Messages In This Thread
another day, another doug - by Oaxaca - June 10, 2018, 12:14 AM
RE: another day, another doug - by Eleuthera - June 10, 2018, 08:57 PM
RE: another day, another doug - by Oaxaca - June 14, 2018, 04:20 PM
RE: another day, another doug - by Olive - June 15, 2018, 12:05 AM
RE: another day, another doug - by Oaxaca - June 15, 2018, 02:19 AM