Giving an old dog a new bone for Sadje’s photo prompt challenge. Woof!
βYou mangy son on a bitch, get your ass off my lawn! Go on … get the hell outta here!β
That was Old Man Jenkins. He and his wife Harriet live next door to us and the source of his rage was none other than our pet French bulldog, Jacques. My husband Ted would run out of the house, apologizing profusely.
βSorry, Mr. Jenkins! Jacques a handful but heβs just playing. Heβs really lovable once you get to know him. Just look at that grin.β
βGet to know him!? Are you freaking nuts, Peterson? That bastard just crapped on my fruit trees!β
βThink of it as fertilizer, Mr. Jenkinsβ Ted suggested sheepishly and dragged Jacques away.
βFERTILIZER!?! I think you mean just plain shit!Β
βHush now, Aaron!β chastised Harriet. βUsing such language … why, thereβs children next door!β
βDonβt hush me, Margaret! That damn dogβs a menace! If you canβt control your frigging mutt, Peterson, Iβm gonna call the cops. Or maybe Iβll just put a bullet between his beady little eyes.β
And the kids started crying.
βNow, Mr. Jenkins, please donβt say things like that. Youβre scaring my kids.β
βWell, thatβs just too damn bad! You solve this problem or I will … permanently!β
Ted brought Jacques back inside, promising the kids everything was going to be ok, that Old Man Jenkins was just sputtering angry syllables he didnβt really mean.
The next few days we kept Jacques on a short leash. Old Man Jenkins seemed to calm down and busied himself with his fruit trees.
On Saturday morning Harriet Jenkins approached me in the grocery store. βThank you, Alice, for keeping Jacques out of our yard. Now Aaron can care for his beloved fruit trees in peace. In fact, heβs been so preoccupied he hasnβt noticed the family of critters living in our wood pile. Theyβre just so darling, I even named them β Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar!β
And off she went, chuckling suspiciously.
Sitting down to dinner later that day, we suddenly heard Old Man Jenkins yelling at the top of his lungs. We never heard him scream like that before so we knew it had to be something awful. Please … not Jacques! We raced outside, stopping dead in our tracks: there stood Old Man Jenkins, pricked by at least 100 porcupine quills.
So that was the “family of darling critters” Harriet was referring to!
βExcellent aim, my little darlings!β exclaimed Harriet. βGuess they know a prick when they see one, Aaron!β
NAR Β© 2023
Originally published 2018
#WDYS
The Elephant's Trunk 