Note to readers: Dave reminds me that he has used the characters contained in the story below in other writings, so he does not ‘develop’ them here, since we already know them. Dave’s Substack page can be found at https://dsklausler.substack.com.
- Operation: Rabbit
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Wile E. Coyote, genius.”
The unusually large alpha led his estrous scented second-year mate through the trees and spiky undergrowth to the human path. She followed closely, this protector and provider; he did not ever waste energy or endanger her. He knew things she did not. Food had been sparse this winter. She knew inherently that she must eat and prepare for pups to come.
He stopped; she stopped. They had the foreign scent minutes before, but now both could hear the approach of the strangers with a small not-coyote nearby. He silently directed and nudged her into the tall flopping dead grass near the hard human path. He pushed her head down gently with his long muzzle and her mixed tan, gray and black body was completely concealed. Her scent was not. He knew this. He moved off out of her view. The strangers were close. Their strangely scented small not-coyote came her way as nature took control of it. She held her assigned position.
Hold… hold… hold… NOW! he processed inherently.
He silently launched from his powerfully lean haunches concealed within the winter-dead, three-foot-tall mixed sedge and big blue stem. Just one broad hop and then an extended spear of his forelegs, head and very sharp teeth clamped around the neck of the oblivious, fat, and slow yapping prey.
Clamp, crush, throttle, shake, pin, again, all inherent to his proficient stealth-acquire subroutine. No threat, dead, stay low, carry to privacy… success! The screaming tall stinky two-leggers saw nothing but grass moving a bit.
He called his mate from her bait spot: Yip! She was as silent as he. Eat. Every bit.
She rubbed against his much larger body. Acquire more?
Later, in the dark. The big brown, tan and gray alpha Coyote trotted back into the undergrowth. She followed. He headed to his favorite rabbit area. He flinched at the sound. She had already leapt, faster than he.
QUICK! Chase. Pounce. Clamp, crush, throttle, shake, pin. Yippee!
A very successful hunt.
She is good. We will be good.
- Raised By Wolves
“These children are the future of humanity.”
Lucia Adhalitzsa Klüft was hiking with a small, weighted pack on her back. The snow was gone from the root-filled rough clay and rock path in the woods. The sun was warm on her face when she traversed the gaps between the trees. Her carbide-tipped stick sank deeply into the slippery soil at the creek’s edge, so deep that she bent in response. The creek was bubbling around the flat rocks. Her light boots were caked with dense orange clay and mud from this low section. From the lowered position she eased back and sat on a larger flat protruding limestone ledge. She looked at a clumped boot and jumped slightly as her sharp eyes caught just ten feet away a coyote staring directly at her. She had seen them many times, but this was very close. She sat; it sat. Slight movement near the tan and gray animal with a black highlighted muzzle – a pup appeared, then another. She stared; she stared. Two more… a pair on each side at the creek side – silent. She could easily smell them; she could easily smell her. The pups started playing with their mother… nuzzling and then climbing on each other. One rolled off of the small rocks into the shallow water, jumped up startled and streaked into the underbrush. Luci smiled at that then looked back to the mother, but she was gone – just like that.
Luci was within a quarter mile of her parked Volvo. She cut across the brambles off-trail. The mixed thorny plants and sticks helped to clear the majority of gunk from her soles. Out in the sun, she turned her face to the warmth. Yessss, she thought. As she tilted her head back down, she looked straight into the golden eyes of a coyote on a slight brush-free hump. Just twenty feet away or so sat a medium-sized tan and gray animal with a black highlighted muzzle. Heyyyy she thought. A pup appeared, then another, then two more… a pair on each side. She stared; she stared. Luci heard a mechanical sound in the lot, she glanced but it was too far away to determine the source. She turned back… mom was gone as were her pups – just like that.
- Logan
“Take your friends, and run. Run. They’ll keep coming and coming.”
Jackson Guðmundur Zorch was running shirtless for the first time of the calendar year; the sun cooked his shoulders and upper back nicely. He was daydreaming while holding an even pace on the crushed limestone path. While in the trance he still noted movement in the mostly winter dead grasses bordering the curve ahead. A very small dog nosed out and into view as he passed it emerging from the scrub. A distinct Yip followed, then commotion at his back. That was no dog, he thought. He stepped, anchored and jumped, pirouetting one hundred eighty degrees. He landed facing the opposite direction back-stepping twice and into the view of a very large coyote less than twenty feet away. He instantly lowered to fighting stance, arms with elbows tucked and hands in loose fists with his body glistening. He could smell the rotting carrion or similar as he stared directly into the animal’s sparkling golden eyes. It bared its impressive teeth and unleashed a guttural growl. A pup appeared, then another, then two more… a pair on each side.
Jackson knew this animal, a male from a previous and uneventful encounter. It had a distinct cut to one of its black-tipped gray ears… that, and the fact that it was huge – taller than a German Shepard, but far leaner with long legs. He stared; he stared. The pups did not move. The thickly furred animal halted the rumbling growl and lowered its tail. Jackson stood while slowly moving his arms out wider at waist height and palms up.
“I mean you no harm,” in an even tone. Even though he could recall seeing this beauty just once before, he was certain that it had seen him many more times. His fur matched the mixed trees and grasses around him… the pups were more brown. The father made clear contact with each pup with his nose then took a step towards Jackson. They stayed. The wind switched and he raised his nose. Jackson was clean, but this guy’s senses were remarkable… he might even be able to smell Jackson’s breakfast cooked into his hair from three hours previous. Jackson took one step towards him. The pups backed up simultaneously. He stared; he stared. The animal turned around, trotted a few steps lightly, then silently re-entered the undergrowth. Jackson paused for thirty seconds heard absolutely nothing, spun around, and continued his run.
- Cujo
“It’s not a monster, it’s just a doggy…”
Luci was running on a wide crushed limestone trail not too far from her home. Running, not jogging; the distinction is a bit gray, but key is pace. For Luci, this was not fun, she was working hard, fluctuating right at seven-minute miles. She could see around a broad bend, a walker… with a medium sized muscular dog pulling hard at the owner on a much too long leash, with phone in face. A bit unusual to see in this section almost three miles from the nearest parking lot. The solid pit bull broke free and raced towards her. Luci, having already mentally prepared, instantly reached up and over her shoulder to grab the small pepper spray cylinder clipped to the top edge of her very tight black sports bra. She dropped down to a semi-squat, flipped the cap and depressed the trigger mechanism. The orange fog blasted out in front of her and directly towards the untrained animal’s face. The wind was in her favor, but she could still feel the capsaicinoids damaging her mouth. The mostly light brown sixty-pound beast stopped immediately, shaking its head and whimpering. By turning completely around and stumbling, it stayed in the wind drifting fog and made things worse for itself. It finally turned off the trail and sprinted into the bramble filled undergrowth. Lucy stowed the spray bottle.
The fog encompassed the dog’s presumed owner. She was already spastically in pursuit, and this spicy air made things very much worse. She was fortunate that the spray had mostly dissipated but she still gagged and coughed. She detached one of her three unnecessary but precious bottles of liquid and began drinking. She was about to call to her beloved Bouncer out in the rough when she saw Luci approaching. She set herself angry for the confrontation with this tall slim blonde model coming directly at her.
Jabbing her electronic toy: “HEY! What do—”
Luci slapped the weaponized phone out of her hand, then moved within one foot of the clueless fool. She leaned in to her face and barked: “Wake up! Train your animal! Next time I will report you as having an ATTACK DOG! Do you know what they do to loose ATTACK DOGS around here? They put them DOWN!” Nice Doggie lady reconsiders her attitude and cowers. “Do you understand me?”
“Ye, ye, yes,” meekly.
“GOOD!” Luci then sped off knowing that nothing would change until the animal bit someone. I love dogs, she thought, I hate stupid dog owners.
- Southern Comfort
“Please, Mr. Congressman, no more canisters. Don’t sic the shepherd dogs on me.”
Jackson was running on an eight-foot-wide center-lined blacktop fitness path not too far from his studio. His pace sometimes drew stares; his body sometimes drew smiles. He was kicking in the last mile hard – well under six-minute pace. He saw the large unruly furry brown and black dog from fifty yards out. It was barely restrained on a ten foot pink nylon harness and leash attached to its owner’s flabby waving arm. Jackson prepared mentally, as he did every time an animal presented itself. The highly sensed animal had tracked him from at least fifty more yards than his weak human eyes. At twenty yards the beautiful seventy-five-pound German Shepard broke free from the screeching, coffee mug holding, ear bud wearing, pink shirted twenty-something “male” and made haste directly, and undoubtedly for Jackson while growling very, very low.
Jackson baited the animal with his left forearm chin-high and she launched at it from five feet. In a flash, he retracted his arm while spinning simultaneously. At the last instant the dog extended its head, neck, and formidable teeth-filled jaws to follow the vanishing target. Jackson continued the effortless spin now bringing up and around his powerful right arm with the long-fingered vise hand clamping on the back of the dog’s neck just above the pink collar. He used the dog’s dropping forward momentum but redirected it with his circular core torque. As the animal went down, Jackson simultaneously mounted its back with his chest and body weight, legs splayed, pinning it to the ground. The large dog huffed with the impact. He then instantly moved his left hand to the dog’s throat and bore down with his mouth in the startled animal’s right ear.
The owner was in range yelling “Trixie, stay. Trixie, heel… Trixie,” when he saw what Jackson had done.
Jackson bit Trixie savagely in the ear and unleashed a menacing guttural growl point-blank. She whimpered, and Jackson could smell the freshly expelled urine, and taste the blood. He released the left-hand choke hold but held the pin. Ten seconds. He knife-waved at the owner to keep quiet. He spoke calmly: “Trixie… easy girl.” Trixie whimpered again. He lessened the pressure on the back of her neck. “Trixie… easy girl.” He moved his hand to the junction of the leash and harness but kept his body weight upon her. She popped up her head a bit. “Easy girl.” Jackson drew up his knees carefully easing the load on her. She stayed. “Good girl Trixie.” Jackson maintained a vise-hold on the harness but climbed completely off. She stayed. He finally eased her up with just a slight pull. She stood. Jackson turned his head to face the Owner.
Calmly, low voice and close with horrifying facial expressions: “If I ever see this animal loose again, I will put the harness and leash on you and drag your sorry ass to the police right over there,” pointing with his head. “Do you understand me?” Still holding the harness.
“You’re crazy… you can’t hurt my dog like that. You can’t—”
Jackson cut him off putting his face even closer, as the target flinched back, “You are fortunate that I am in a good mood. Get some professional training – Skippy.” He first handed over the leash loop, then released the harness. Trixie didn’t move. Jackson squatted. “Good girl,” scratching her head. He jogged away – his finishing kick no more. I love dogs, he thought, I hate stupid dog owners.
- Lady and the Tramp
“Hey, she’s pretty sweet kiddo, Butch. You take a Tony’s advice and settle down with this-a one, eh?”
Luci entered through the coded (1313M) rear gate to Jackson’s back yard. She was shocked at the proliferation of beautiful flowering plants, shrubs, unusual trees and an expansive vegetable garden growing a multitude of colored leaves, stems and fruit. She could see no standard grass… greenish ground cover and various shades of gray crushed stone of some kind making circular paths. How does he have time for all of this, she thought. The patio was all natural stone with large grooves of the same crushed stone. She could see Jackson’s arms repeatedly appearing from the water of the raised Endless Pool; it too was stone framed, and the pump motor was humming quietly. The furniture was teak and padded. The expansive pergola was teak with tan canvas partially unrolled to shelter the table from the blazing sun. She removed her cover-up and placed it on the chaise lounge that was obviously set for her. She kicked off her contoured sandals. The small jet-controlled pool was big enough that she slipped into a corner three feet from Jackson’s flipping feet. He continued on for five more minutes before stopping and drifting back in a practiced slide and grabbing on to the perimeter teak bar. He depressed the big red button to kill the jets. Luci thought that he seemed to already know that she was in the pool… no shock, no excess body motion… he just turned his head.
“Hi, pretty lady,” as he huffed and bent to kiss her cheek. Using just his hands, he flipped out using a pommel horse move, landing smoothly and silently on the patio. He turned to face her. She stared. He realized that after thirty minutes swimming, his musculature was fully inflated, and his black triathlon shorts were tight. He smiled… he knew what he looked like. We’ll get to that later, she thought. She dipped in to her neck then climbed out.
“Hi there,” from Luci as Jackson stared. He thought that she may have dipped into the cool water on purpose. She was wearing an all-white one-piece suit. No holes, no accessories, no multitude of decorative straps or strings or shiny things – simple white. It contrasted wonderfully with her evenly tanned skin. The hips were cut very high and the neck very low. The crotch was narrow, and her brown areolas showed with nipples distinct. She smiled lightly… she knew what she looked like. We’ll get to that later, he thought. She moved towards his stare and kissed him lightly on the lips and stepped back.
Instead of real lemonade, Jackson had tart lemon electrolyte mix in an insulated jug. He poured a heavy glass nearly full as the ice cubes clinked in. He offered it to her with a motion of arm with glass and she took it. He poured another for himself. They sat at the shaded table and drank. A sleek Blue Heeler appeared silently from nowhere. “Hey Jet,” from Jackson. He ignored Jackson and moved directly to Luci and sat. She scratched his striped head and polka-dotted neck; with tail wagging, his masked face smiled and pushed in for harder nail action. “He belongs to my distant neighbor. We all agreed that he can roam… he keeps the rabbit population in check. The coyotes leave him alone for some reason. That reminds me, I had an incident with a dog again… some owners are just clueless.”
“Hah! I met an untrained owner on the trail earlier this week. She attempted to blame me… that didn’t really work out for her,” with a slight smile. Jet wandered off. Jackson finished his drink.
“Okay Luci, how about something new today?”
Since he already had worked out and already absorbed the sun and he wasn’t staring at her body, she didn’t have any idea what he meant. “Sure.”
He signed for shoes and said: “Okay, come with me,” leading her out passed the garden to an open area.
Luci looked on as Jackson opened the door of a dark wood shed went in and came out with a five-gallon bucket half-full with hard balls… lacrosse balls she knew. He set the bucket down just aside a pole mounted thick net as wide as she was tall and equal in height. He selected a ball.
“Today we are going to throw, but first, we are going to check your technique.”
“Really Jackson? I have no intention of joining the Ladies Softball League, or whatever it may be called. Why are we doing this?”
“Everyone should know how to throw properly. The uses are nearly infinite,” with a smile. “It comes in handy… for offense… rocks, Molotov Cocktails, bibles, grenades… whatever happens to be lying around.” Luci smiled. He lifted the bucket by the handle and took her hand leading her across the yard about halfway to the opposite net. “Okay, here, don’t throw, just go through the motions for me,” handing her a ball. Jackson watched… this beautiful and fit lady had no idea how to direct her body efficiently to throw. He spent a few minutes showing the Hows and explaining the Whys. He threw one and it hit the red foot-square painted target on the net. “Here you go,” indicating the bucket, “twenty-four more for you.” She threw and he corrected. That was easy, he thought. They walked together to the end with the thrown balls. They gathered them up in the bucket. Jackson took over throwing towards the other net now one hundred feet away. Luci watched his at first deliberate then forceful action. She also saw that very few missed the small target. They moved to the ball end once again and gathered them. Back to the center. “Okay, don’t throw, let me see your action again – left-handed.” She frowned. “We must stay balanced, where possible.” Although more challenging, she handled the corrections well. “Easy now… all twenty-five.” This time a few didn’t hit the net, no matter how lightly she threw. “Not too bad.” After fetching the balls, Jackson threw lefty at the far end. None missed the net, but far fewer hit the target. He’s human after all, Luci thought. He took down the net, they gathered the balls, he took down the other net, and said: “That’s enough… it’s an unfamiliar motion, you don’t want to overdo it first time out.” They stowed the gear and headed back to the patio, dropped their shoes and dipped in the small cool pool once more.
“Do you ever stop?” She asked.
“Of course, but not yet… let’s go inside and see if that body of yours still works in other ways.”
Luci just smiled and climbed out of the water.
- The Fantastic Mr. Fox
“We had a master plan!”
“Remember Kingdom of Rain? We played it together a while back. The The?” He sipped and set down his perfect drink prepared by Valtýr. It was early still at Oscar’s, only a couple of regulars at a few distant small tables.
“Look here, closely… do you recognize me?” With that perfect sarcastic tilt of her head now inches from Jackson’s face. “Of course I remember.”
“Easy Baby… you Swedes have been known to lose those memory circuits early on, especially in the presence of dominating masculinity.”
Luci smiled beautifully. “I agreed with you then, and still do… beautiful and painful with haunting and powerful vocals.”
“Okay, good. When my mind is spinning, or when working out, or reflecting on my history, I tend to be very receptive to emotional content. Especially music; somewhat lesser with movies. I subconsciously execute hundreds and hundreds of scenarios in an effort to analyze them… the bad ones, the scenarios that I’d rather avoid. When I hear songs like that, in that state, I sometimes crumble.”
“Yes, my dear, I understand completely,” as she sipped her martini, waiting.
“Earlier today I felt so strange, I don’t know why, but I toured my music rack and came across something that I knew would hit and hurt. I cried again, but those weights moved easier – I swear! I knew immediately that I had to share it with you. The content, the lyrics – just heartbreaking. The most haunting guitar. Extremely unusual disparate harmony. When Richard wrote this, he was separated and splitting from his wife. He was already known for his dark lyrics, but this… ooooo, ouch. Linda, still his wife, joined him professionally only – given the volatile status of their relationship. I can’t imagine the studio sessions – as lovers once – now de facto enemies. How did they get this done?”
Luci remained quiet. Jackson, out of his reverie, nodded at the mystic Claire appearing uncannily once again at the right instant. She cut the streaming music and launched Walking on a Wire with a bit more volume on the excellent sound system.
“Please, listen.”
Jackson drank, the recent listening had prepared him for the emotional load. Luci sipped, deciphering the roots of the lyrics to the internal workings of her man.
I wish I could please you tonight
But my medicine just won’t come right
It wrapped up powerfully, falling.
“What brought them to that point? Could it have been resolved? Richard says no. Linda stopped speaking about it long, long ago. Did they not know each other well enough before merging? You should see a live version – just incredible. Maybe the trauma made it that good?”
Luci stared into her drink, then finally tilted over. “Again, I agree… remarkable. Artists, lost in that world of musical expression. Beyond the music, was there nothing else, was there not enough communication? Love lost, or maybe lust lost?”
“This is what I would like to avoid with you. These are some of the things that I would rather not think about but seem to have little control over such ruminations. Ultimately though, my thoughts have served me well.” Shaking his head slowly side to side, “I’d like to play it with you some day.”
Luci leaned over and kissed Jackson softly on the cheek, “A fair representation may be difficult to accomplish, but I understand what you wish.”
- The Kung Fu Panda
“The strongest of us sometimes have the hardest time fighting what’s on the inside.”
As they sat shoulder to shoulder sipping tea on Luci’s patio, two perimeter dogwoods split from a large coyote silently squeezing through and onto the fringe of the grass. A second, slightly smaller coyote came through and sat next to the first. They stared; they stared. Unblinking for a minute. The female nudged her mate with her muzzle. He departed silently, she followed.
“We can make this last, right?”
“I am as willing and sure as I have ever been,” as she nudged her mate.
The coyote song started. Another joined. More. It sounded like a dozen. Then all fell instantly and simultaneously silent.
“Beautiful.”
“Beautiful.”
Piece of Mindful 