Thrice A Change of Prey
The Loyal Dog
Crazy bitch is the wildest and most wily dog I’ve ever had, hence her name. She’s much closer to a feral canine than a domestic pet. Last summer we were hiking in the Shenandoah Valley, and all of a sudden, her ears perked as she charged down the trail, and moments later, I heard the bloodcurdling scream of a small child.
“Dear God,” I thought, “My dog has a toddler by the neck!”
I dashed ahead, expecting to see a child, but instead, a small spotted deer was sprinting for its life. The fawn opened its mouth and shrieked, and again, it sounded like a four-year-old human. It was eerie. Of course, Crazy Bitch didn’t think it was eerie. She was in hot pursuit and had a murderous look in her eyes. I called her name and commanded her to stop, but Crazy Bitch never listens to me, and in truth, the fawn didn’t need my help, because she was heading straight towards her mother, a full-grown doe weighing 150 lbs.
Now, it’s against a doe’s instinct to attack a carnivore like Crazy Bitch, but the mother deer got between my dog and her fawn, then ran in a slow zigzag pattern, trying to get Crazy Bitch to chase her, so the fawn would be safe. It worked like a charm. The fawn went one way and the doe went the other, loping along easily as the crazy bitch galloped at full speed trying to keep up. I stayed on the trail and kept calling for my dog, worried that I would never see her again, but then, the most unexpected thing happened.
Within minutes, Crazy Bitch was returning with a worried look upon her. Her tongue hung from the side of her mouth — and she was running even faster because a black bear was chasing her.
By happenstance, she must have chased the doe right past this hungry animal, who was out looking for a meal, and since Crazy Bitch was slower than the dear, the bear decided to chase her. Suddenly the pursuer was the pursued. Suddenly the chase went from fawn, to doe, to dog… and yet the quarry was about to flip again because Crazy Bitch was leading this bear straight towards me.
You’re not supposed to run from a bear, but this bear was ferocious and coming fast, so I ran like hell. Even so, Crazy Bitch was soon trotting right before me. She seemed much calmer in this advanced position, knowing that the bear would get to me first and that she could easily escape while I was being devoured. The thought quickened my retreat, but still, I could not overtake Crazy Bitch, and I thought I was a goner. I called out for my mother. I voided my bowels, but eventually, I looked over my shoulder and the bear wasn’t there. I don’t know where it went, or why it changed its mind — or maybe it didn’t change its mind; maybe in some alternative universe, my body is being digested in the bowels of a bear while bits of my bones pass through its anus — but in this universe, I’m still here and left to wonder if Crazy Bitch is clever enough to imitate the escape tactics she had just learned from her fellow animals. If so, I have to admire her smarts, but I’ve abandoned all hope that she’ll ever be loyal.
