Chapter Nine: Snowbound with Cannibals
I did a quick about-face and began marching in the other direction, hoping that the coyotes might think they had seen a mirage. Or something.
I had only gone three steps when I heard them shout, “Halt! Stop! Not try to escape!”
I, uh, pretended not to hear them. That can happen sometimes, when the wind’s blowing hard. I hoped they’d understand, but just in case they didn’t, I cast a glance over my . . . they were coming after me, plunging through the snow with big leaps.
“Halt! Not walk away when coyote say halt!”
I picked up my pace somewhat, moving into a rapid walk and then into a dog trot. When I sensed that this wasn’t working, I reached for the afterburners and went to Escape Speed.
And ran smack into them. Those guys were fast.
They weren’t smiling, not at all. They looked very serious, almost angry. Angry. And hungry.
Snort narrowed his eyes and gave me a sniffing.
“That you, Hunk, with face covering up with many snowflake?”
“Me? With my face covered up with snowflakes? No, it’s not me at all. There’s been some mistake.”
“Uh. Snort thinking we find ranch dog name Hunk.”
“Oh no. No, no. No, not at all.”
“You looking berry much like Hunk, Snort think, and Rip too.”
Rip nodded his head, and they continued to stare at me with their yellow eyes.
“No, I think this is just a simple case of mistaken identity, Snort. I’m not me at all. That is, I’m not who you think I am, unless . . . eh, just out of curiosity, what do you think of this ‘Hunk’ feller? Tell me about him.”
“Chicken dog.”
“No, that’s not me.”
“Dummy ranch dog.”
“See? You’ve got the wrong guy, and I really . . .”
Snort blocked my path. “Hunk all the time making coyote look foolish, play many trick.”
“No! You mean, there’s a dog around here who could make you guys look foolish? I can hardly believe that.”
“Better you believe that.”
“Right. I believe that with all my heart and soul and liver and . . .”
“Coyote hungry for liver.”
“I didn’t say liver. I said ‘heart and soul.’”
“Uh. Coyote hungry for heart.”
“I didn’t say heart. I must have misquoted you, so let me run the whole thing past you again. I said, ‘I believe that will hardly deliver my soul,’ is exactly what I said, word for word. Honest.”
“Nothing about hearts or livers.”
“Not make sense, ‘hardly deliver soul.’”
“You’re right, Snort, so let’s just scratch out the business about the soul. That leaves us with, ‘I believe that will hardly deliver the mole.’ How does that grab you?”
“Ha! Mole not grab coyote. Coyote grab mole and swallow in two bites, yum yum.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere! What you guys need is a nice fat mole to eat, and I’ll bet that if you’d stick your heads into that big snowdrift over there and count to five thousand, you’d find one. No kidding, I really think you’d . . .”
“You wipe snow off of face.”
“Say what? Wipe snow off of . . .”
Rip stepped forward and slugged me under the chin, causing my head to fly back and red checkers to form behind my eyes, and sending the snow flying off of my face.
And all at once I was exposed, stripped of my disguise in front of two of the most dreadful cannibals in Ochiltree County.
They gave me big toothy grins. “Ah ha, Hunk hiding behind snow!”
“No, wait a minute. I wasn’t exactly . . .”
“And now Hunk captured.”
“Captured? Well, surely we can . . .” I glanced around and checked out the escape routes. The coyote brothers filled them.
“Hunk not try run away.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t think of . . .”
“Hunk stay for supper.”
“Thanks, Snort, but I really ought to . . .”
“Because Hunk MAKE supper for hungry brothers, ha ha.”
“That’s not funny, Snort. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, laughing at the misfortunes of others.”
He stuck his nose right in my face. “Rip and Snort tear up whole world and spit, not feel ashamed for nothing.”
“Okay, let’s try another approach. You see this thing around my neck? It’s medicine for a sick child—a little baby girl-child who has a terrible cough.”
“Coyote not give hoot for terrible cough.”
“I haven’t finished yet, Snort, and I’d appreciate it if you’d suspend judgment until I’m done.”
“Coyote not give hoot for suspender juggling.”
“Of course you do. See, you probably didn’t realize that I’m on an errand of mercy.”
“Coyote not give hoot for arrow of mercy.”
I glared at them. “Rip, Snort, I must tell you that I’m shocked and dismayed. I’ve never encountered such closed minds and cold hearts.”
“Uh! Coyote hungry for heart.”
“Forget I said that, I’m sorry I mentioned it. The point is that I’m shocked and dismayed.”
“Ha! Coyote not give hoot for chock full of dismay.”
“Okay.” My mind was racing. I had to come up with something, real quick. “Let’s try another approach: singing.”
Their ears shot up and their yellow eyes began to sparkle. “Uh! Coyote give BIG hoot for singing! Rip and Snort berry greater singest in whole world, oh boy.”
“I doubt that, Snort. You guys might be . . .”
Snort poked me in the chest with his paw and curled his lip just enough to expose two rows of incredible fangs. “Hunk not bad-talk coyote music! Rip and Snort berry greater singest in whole big world!”
“Yes, well, I hope you didn’t think I . . . what I’m saying, guys, is that you might be great singers . . .”
“Not might. Greater singest for sure!”
“All right, for sure, but you haven’t heard my latest love song.”
Rip rolled his eyes. “Uh.”
“But I can already tell that you’re dying to hear it.”
Snort shook his head. “Not dying.”
“All right. You’re not dying to hear it, but you’re very anxious to hear my latest love song.”
“Coyote rather eat than hearing love song. Coyote not give hoot for love.”
“But this is a different kind of love song, Snort. It’s about fleas.”
He perked up on that. “Uh! Coyote got plenty fleas.” He sat down in the snow and began scratching his ear with his hind leg. “Got flea right now, ha!”
“See there? I knew you’d like it. It’s called, ‘Oh Flee, My Love.’”
They were waiting for me to sing. I could tell that I had picked . . . perked . . . piqued . . . pricked their interest. Gotten their attention. Tapped into their cultural level.
Snort stopped scratching and frowned at me. “So? Love song about flea okay with coyote. Hunk sing about loving flea.”
“Well, I really hadn’t come prepared . . . I didn’t bring my music, don’t you see, and . . .”
“HUNK SING!!”
“All right, all right, but remember that you forced me to do this.”
And with that, I sang them my latest bombshell of a song.
Oh Flee, My Love!
I saw her face that snowy night and felt the love bug crawl.
As melting snow dripped off my chin, I promised her my all.
Or if not all, then some of it, the part that I could spare.
I offered her my heart’s spare part, I promised it right there.
Her eyes showed pure astonishment, I knew I’d done the trick.
Her mouth turned up into a smile that would have melted brick.
I knew I had her on the ropes, I knew I couldn’t fail.
And that’s when I became aware of something near my tail.
At first I tried to let it slide, I figgered it was just
That same old crawling bug of love I’d noticed right at first.
And so I winked my eye at her and gave her one more thrill,
But suddenly that bug of love attacked me with a drill.
When something’s drilling on your tail, it’s hard to keep your suave,
I lost my concentration then and knew I had to solve
The mystery of that piercing pain that had a hold of me
The bug of love that bit so hard turned out to be a flea!