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Saturday, August 31, 2013

Snare Of The Fowler, 2020 - 2023

 2020.  When the Rooster explained the fact that he would have his head chopped off at dinner time a kind of steely light began to glow in Otis’ eyes, and there was something about that look and the silence of the wolf that said to him that his fate might somehow be otherwise that he expected.


 2021. But when evening came the fowler made dinner of three of his many pigeons, and gave hardly a look at the Rooster. Of course roosters had other uses he knew, but such a fate seemed too unlikely under the circumstances. When the fowler was in the back of the wagon picking out the pigeons for dinner, he also had a look in on Otis, untied him and then felt his fur all over in a friendly way, but in that same way the old vet had petted him.


 2022.  It was an examination. The Fowler was looking for scars, evidence of deadly fights, the signs of broken and healed bones. He found nothing. Otis’ skin and fur were as pristine and as healthy as any lap dog in the care of a wealthy old lady. There were no bite marks on his neck at all. The Fowler, like the Rooster drew all the wrong conclusions from these observations.


2023. Late that evening as the birds in their cages began falling asleep one by one Otis and the Rooster began to hear peculiar sounds outside of their wagon. It was a sound similar to a carnival or a drunken wedding reception being held far away in the woods to the north of their encampment.

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