Sloths to a Flame

 

Felix and Gilbert were hanging in a tree doing what sloths do best, relaxing in the hot afternoon sun. They were also observing Dale, who was busy collecting buds that were particular to the season and also considered a delicacy to the species.

“That Dale! Who does he think he is, making us look bad for doing what we’re supposed to do?” Felix grumbled.

“It ain’t natural, Felix” Gilbert lazily answered.

Dale overheard the conversation but he didn’t let it bother him. He was used to it. Ever since he was a kid, he had more energy that the other sloths. He was never content just hanging in a tree.

The council of elders tried many interventions. There was counseling, homeopathic therapies, even pseudo-medicinal rituals involving chanting, rainforest plants and dancing. Nothing took the wind out of his sails. The elders reluctantly gave up and let him be an active sloth.

Dale spent weeks collecting and stowing buds in hollowed, fallen trees. He garnered enough buds for many times more sloths than were in the group in which he lived, yet he felt compelled to gather more. When he slept he dreamt about buds.

A few weeks later Felix and Gilbert were hanging in their favorite tree when the sun was slowly covered by a thick grey that wasn’t cloud formations.

“What do you think that is, Gilbert?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know, Felix but it don’t look good” was his only response.

Little did they know, the rain forest all around them was ablaze. Pure coincidence protected them. A few geographical features, like a wide stream to the north and a sheer rock face to the east were keeping them safe.

Close to evening a massive group of foreign sloths slowly dragged themselves to their safe spot.

“We’ve made it! We are safe!” the leader said as he looked back to his comrades. The news was met by a hail of cheers.

“Not so fast!” Felix said, “What do you all think you are doing here?”

“We’ve escaped unthinkable horrors! The forest is burning. There has been a lot of death and destruction. Please, show mercy, let us stay. At least until the fires die down…” he pleaded.

“There aren’t enough leaves in this patch of land for all of us! You might have survived these fires, but we’ll all die from starvation if you stay!” Felix shot back.

“Can I say something?” Dale meekly interjected.

“What could you possibly have to say, you busy body?” Felix snapped.

“With all due respect” Dale said, “We most certainly do have enough food for us and them. And for a good while”

“How so?” Felix asked, genuinely curious.

“I have buds stored all over the place. Almost every fallen tree from here to the outer edges is stuffed with them. There might be enough for months” he answered.

The group was so quiet one could hear the distant crackle of the burning jungle. “All right, you can stay until the situation improves” Felix said.

The crown roared with joy. In a few weeks the rains put out the remaining fires. The displaced sloths found a suitable home fairly close to their new found friends.

 

Swooping In

Barry and Melvin, two painted turtles, were sunning themselves on a rock on a warm early spring afternoon.

“It was a brutal winter this year, eh, Mel?” Barry asked.

“The worst” he slowly answered.

“Didn’t think I’d make it through” Barry said.

“Even though you say that every year, I gotta say, I kinda felt that way too” Melvin said.

“My shell got so cold it hurt” Barry said.

“But now we’re here, living the life” Melvin answered.

“Nothing better, belly full of fish, beautiful scenery…” he stopped short when the sun was shadowed by an unidentified flying object.

“Oh no, Barry! I think it’s an eagle. Don’t move! He might not see us” Melvin said.

“Not see us? It’s a goddamn eagle, Mel!” Barry cried.

“He’s swooping! Get in your shell!” Mel screamed.

As they heard the approaching whistle, the result of air rushing through the eagle’s feathers, they imagined they survived the brutal winter for naught. Barry imagined the things he could have been doing that very moment instead of wasting time on that rock. Melvin wished he could kiss his mate and offspring just one more time.

They heard the click of the eagle’s talons on the very rock they were on. They both held their breath and waited to be carried away by the shell to be dropped on jagged rocks to be smashed open and made a meal.

“Hey guys” the eagle said. “Some winter, eh?”

Both turtles peeked their heads out of their shells. Barry answered first with a slight stammer, “Ahhh, a real doozy”

“The worst” Melvin sheepishly chimed in.

“Hey, I’m not here to eat you guys” the Eagle said with a cackling laugh, “there’s barely anyone awake in these parts yet and I saw you two here. I just wanted to talk to someone. Anyone.”

Both immediately popped the rest of their way out of their shells. Melvin spoke up first. “Of course not!”

Barry followed up with “Wouldn’t even think of it”

 

 

Living on a Prayer (Part 5) Final Episode

Rick came creeping up on the scene in desert camo. The townsfolk were still gathered around the burrow both curious about the interaction of the two groups of dogs under their feet and yet worried about the sick ones. Some were on their knees praying.

“They ain’t talking to the real God. The real God wants ‘em dead” Rick said as he spat on the ground.

*          *          *           *         *          *

“Hey Timmy, I´m going to nose around outside and see if I can find anything out” Clapper said.

“Those people are still out there, they might hurt you” he answered.

“No, they brought us here. From what I gather, they’re on your side, but I am still not 100% sure”

*          *           *           *           *          *

Clapper snuck out a rear hole. He immediately smelled traces of the poison in the air. He couldn´t pinpoint the source of the smell but it was surely not coming from the mass of the townsfolk gathered around the burrow. He picked up a strong scent and followed it to some shrubs around 30 yards from where they were. He found a scraggly man hiding out in the bushes in a prone position. The smell was surely coming from him.

Clapper snuck up from behind the man and with ferocious speed, bit off a chunk of the subject’s calf. “OUCH!” Rick cried from the bushes.

“Rick? What the hell you doing over there?” Judge yelled. “You ain’t got nuttin to do with these sick critters now, do you?”

Rick was wild eyed, “It ain’t right! Prairie dogs gots to pray! You shouldn’t have to teach ‘em. These here ain’t of God.”

Clapper was confused but he started putting the pieces together.

“These here Texas dogs are Godly. They pray. Ours don’t. Ours are of the devil”

Clapper finally figured out why he and his cohorts were brought to this dog town.

“Sheriff, put him in cuffs, for animal cruelty” Judge ordered and the sheriff obliged.

“Man law can’t get my soul!” Rick yelled as he was put in the Sheriff’s SUV and taken away.

“What a night, Judge!” Mary Ann said as her hand brushed his. She was surprised when he gently took hold of it.

“Yeah, sure was a little crazy. How about we make it a little crazier? I would like to ask you out to dinner with me some time, if you´d like…” he asked.

“My word, I’ve been waiting a long time to hear those words! YES!” she answered. “Look! There are some prairie dogs coming out of the borrow, they look fine!”

*          *          *           *            *          *

“You were brought here to teach us to pray, yet you guys don´t even do it?” Sammy asked, laughing to himself.  

“It’s what I gathered; and that crazy guy in the bushes tried to kill you guys for not doing so” Clapper answered, “I recommend you give them what they want. We can teach you how to meditate, we all do it. It’s wonderful. Life changing even. You could assume the prayer position and appease the townsfolk and yet benefit from this time spent”

“Ah-hem” Timmy said.

“Just keep praying Timmy” Sammy said, “You aren’t hurting or annoying anyone and you like it” he finished, giving Timmy a high five.

“Clapper, are you guys gonna stay with us?” Julie asked.

“I guess that’s up to the townsfolk. We are quite a ways  away from Texas” he answered, “But, wherever we end up, I believe it’s how it’s supposed to be”

 

The end.

Living on a Prayer (Part 4)

Living on a Prayer (Part 1)        Living on a Prayer (Part 2)      Living on a Prayer (Part 3)

The night arrived for the grand reintroduction. The townsfolk were excited. Saul put on his only suit for the occasion. They arrived with candles poking through paper plates in their hands. They were horrified by what they found.

There were prairie dogs everywhere writhing on the ground. The Townsfolk didn’t know what to think. Mary Ann piped up “Maybe we are too late. Satan has already taken hold here”

“I don’t know but the Texas dogs are going nuts in these crates. They are clawing to get out!” Judge said.

“Release them” Saul said, “Trust me”

“Ok” Judge said, flipping open the latches.

*          *          *          *          *          *

The native dogs rushed into the burrow out of pure fear. Once inside the leader, Clapper, called out “Anybody down here? These are clearly prairie dog burrows and there are plenty of signs they are currently occupied”

After taking a look around, the native dogs discovered why they were not properly greeted. There were numerous prairie dogs strewn about in various states of consciousness.

Clapper took in the scene and knew exactly what to do. “Find me some desert grass, red clay from a dried creek bed and as much cactus meat and milk as you can find! Stat!”

“Poisoned?” Jumper asked.

“Poisoned” Clapper answered, “Everything is going to be fine” he shouted to the suffering prairie dogs as he then put his front paws together and closed his eyes.

*          *          *            *          *          *

As the night wore on, native dogs came and went with the ingredients requested by Clapper. It was working. Not a single prairie dog’s life was lost. Even the most far gone dogs were only experiencing mild to strong discomfort, but were completely out of the danger zone.

“This was an intentional poisoning” Clapper said.

“How could you tell?” Timmy asked.

“Let´s just say, native dogs have been in struggle with humans for centuries. We have seen it all. We pass down the knowledge. I can see how this got you by surprise. You’ve never faced anything like this before”

“I bet your prayer helped” Timmy side wide eyed and with a big smile.

“Prayer?” he paused to think “What?”

“I saw you praying, after you gave the orders to gather ingredients to make the medicine. You know, hands together, eyes closed….talking to the Lord”

“Oh…Hahaha, you thought I was praying? That’s just how I think. We all do that! No prairie dog has actually prayed in earnest for generations. One or another gets the idea in their head to pray, but it usually passes, like a fad”

“Oh” Timmy said. He sat in silent thought for a little before asking, “Why are you guys here?”

“Maybe we were brought to save you. Beyond that, I have no idea”

“Well, I´m glad you came regardless”

“You know what? Considering we were able to help the way we did, I am glad too”

(To be continued…..)

 

 

 

Bear Fight!

Barry was the toughest bear in the forest. He was 10-0 in professional bear fights and 8-0 as an amateur. He was the current bear fighting champion. The up and comer, Burt, was young and hungry and ready to take Barry´s belt. They weren´t very fond of each other outside of the ring so this looked as though it was going to be a barn burner.

On the day of the big fight, Barry came down with a virus. He had trouble getting out of bed. His manager, a skunk named Sammy, was ready to call off the fight. Barry refused. He could not lose face to the young punk, Burt. Besides, it would ruin his legacy.

Barry and Burt squared off in the middle of the ring. The referee went over the rules of the fight. Barry noticed a twinge of fear in Burt´s eyes. Burt recognized the exhaustion in Barry´s eyes and his confidence grew a bit. The referee sent them to their respective corners.

Barry knew he could not take many body shots. His digestive system was wrecked by the virus. Burt wanted to avoid Barry´s heavy front paws. He knew one touch and he could go to sleep. He desperately wanted to take the fight to the ground.

As they were circling each other a slight boom echoed and scared the birds out of the trees in the distance. Suddenly Burt felt a piercing sting in his chest. Breathing became next to impossible. All he could feel was a burning, his vision was no longer clear. He started to fade. Consciousness failed him.

Approximately 300 yards a hunter lowered his rifle. He looked to his partner. “Got dat Bear!”

As all the animals, with the exception of Burt, ran away from the championship fight Barry cried “I AM STILL CHAMPION!”