Humor doesn’t always lead to people falling down and laughing. Sometimes, humor can take a darker tone. Such is the case with today’s column by Drew.
Hi, my name is Cricket and I’m a 14-month-old wirehaired pointer who lives in South Dakota. Today is my big day!
Mistress Kristi told me that today she’s going to take me on my first pheasant hunt. I was so excited when she told me, I peed. I did not pee on Mistress Kristi because she would not have liked that. I ran around in a circle until I got dizzy. After she put me in my kennel for the night, my friend, Gus the Goat, came over to talk.
Gus is the oldest animal in our barnyard and also the wisest. He does not like Mistress Kristi, but he knows I do. She’s Mistress Kristi, and she has said that one day she’ll live in a big White House and that if I’m good I’ll get to live there too.
“Be careful tomorrow, Cricket,” said Gus the Goat as he chewed on some grass thoughtfully.
“Oh, Gus the Goat, I’ll be careful,” I said. “I want to make Mistress Kristi happy and go live with her in the big White House someday.”
“Just be careful. You know how angry she can get.” Gus the Goat turned to show me his flank that still had a long scar down his side where no fur would grow. The scar happened before I was born and before I lived on the farm, but Gus the Goat never forgot or forgave Mistress Kristi.
“Thank you, Gus the Goat,” I said. “You’re a good friend. I better get some rest so I’m ready to go tomorrow. Goodnight, my old and wise friend.”
Mistress Kristi got me up early the next morning, and we climbed into her red pickup truck to go to the hunt. I made sure I peed before I jumped up into the passenger seat. When we got to the area of the hunt, Mistress Kristi turned to me and said: “Cricket, this is your big day. Don’t screw this up for me or you’ll never live in the big White House with me.” She fondly rubbed the rifle that laid on the seat between us and looked at the gun with such adoration that I hoped one day she would look at me with such love.
I wagged my tail and barked to let her know I would not screw this up.
There were a few other dogs at the hunt, and Mistress Kristi kept me on my leash until we were ready to start the hunt. The other dogs there were older than I was and looked at me with barely disguised disgust. One older retriever mumbled under his breath:
“Don’t screw this up, young buck. You just stay in your lane and let us lead the hunt. Maybe your Mommy will give you a little treat when we get back.”
I would show them! Once the whistle sounded and the hunt was on, I ran like the wind. I tore off through the gorse and barked at every hiding place I found. Birds and pheasants flocked to the skies and onward I ran. I had never felt so invigorated. I ran and ran and ran. Finally, I took a break and looked around me. I was all alone. No dogs, no other hunters, and no Mistress Kristi.
I started to run back to the start of the hunt expecting to see hunters pulling dead birds from the ground and giving each other hugs and high fives, but there were no dead birds and there were no hunters. On the horizon, I saw Mistress Kristi and she did not look happy. She had my leash in her hand and a look that was not one of adoration. She threw me into the truck and slammed the door.
“You screwed up, Cricket. You really screwed up.”
She drove the truck as fast as she could away from my first hunt and my big day. On our way home, she stopped to see some friends of hers and made me stay in the truck. Because she was a responsible pet owner though she did roll my window down.
At her friend’s house they had a number of chickens roaming in the yard and I thought to myself: “Boy, Cricket, you screwed up. But now maybe I can make it up to Mistress Kristi.”
I leapt out of the truck and ran toward the startled chickens. I caught two or three chickens until I heard Mistress Kristi screaming: “No, Cricket, no.”
Again, Mistress Kristi threw me into the truck and slammed the door. Mistress Kristi was not happy.
When we got back to the farm, Mistress Kristi grabbed her gun and then ran around to the passenger side door and let me out.
“Let’s go, Cricket. To the gravel pit.”
She stormed off toward the gravel pit, and I followed close behind with my tail tucked between my legs. Gus the Goat wandered over and put himself in front of Mistress Kristi.
“Get out of my way, you dumb goat! You’re next.”
Gust the Goat then tried to butt Mistress Kristi with his old and gnarled horns, and she hit him with the butt of her gun and walked on.
“Down in the pit, Cricket,” said Mistress Kristi as she motioned me down into the dark and smelly gravel pit. I slowly crawled down into the pit and wondered how long she would make me stay down in that dark place. I also hoped that Gus the Goat was okay. I got to the bottom of the pit and turned toward Mistress Kristi.
“I warned you, Cricket.” And then there was a flash of light from her gun and then darkness.
After a long time of darkness, I woke up in a place I had never seen before. It looked like a big barnyard with lots of animals and no people and no Mistress Kristi. And then, to my great surprise I saw Gus the Goat. I barked, “Gus the Goat!”
The old grizzled goat turned to me and smiled.
“Gus the Goat, is this the big White House?” I asked.
The wise, old goat looked around and smiled.
“I don’t know if there is a big White House here, Cricket. But I do know that Mistress Kristi will never get here or to any other big White House.”
We walked into the setting sun and looked at the pink skies. I had had a big day!
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