Demonic Wildlife by Valerie Willis

Author:Valerie Willis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
Published: 2022-05-24T18:06:16+00:00

Sassy Larue wanted to vacate her bowls without the loud, annoying ramblings coming from the giant moron on the phone who held her leash. Sassy usually enjoyed the intoxicating smells from the fence line grass. It solidified, for her, the knowledge that she was not alone and that the army of fellow species whose fertilizer reached up into her nose, touching her very soul, meant she was part of a tribe–an ancient species. It was sacred time when she got to leave a return message for all who came after her. This was time when, in normal circumstances, Liza would look down on her with quiet esteem and gentle encouragement. This was a time that Sassy looked forward to with excitable anticipation, but it was now being ruined by the amoeba with opposable thumbs named Hank. Hank paid no attention to Sassy, pulling and tugging her to-and-fro as he walked back and forth talking to someone heatedly, perhaps having an argument–an argument Sassy hoped he was losing.

“Of course, I meant Voodoo economics, dumbass. Supply side economics and Voodoo economics are the same thing. Why are you so dumb, Tommy?” Hank took a hard one-hundred-eight-degree march in the opposite direction of Sassy.

The small dog heard tiny bells and turned to get a glimpse of Gilda, the old lady from the condo above theirs. It looked like she was emptying boxes of plant stems into the compost dump as she hummed an old tune, ‘Puttin On the Ritz’. Every time she moved her feet, the tiny bells on the anklet she wore rang sweetly. Gilda smiled at the dog. Sassy liked her.

The leash tightened and the millisecond Hank felt tension in the line, he yanked hard causing Sassy to yelp as she was forced into the air, landing on her side and working to get her legs underneath her. Suddenly, Gilda’s sweet humming stopped.

“Hey!!” A voice yelled out.

Hank continued rambling, oblivious. “Let me tell you, if they don’t get more knowledgeable judges, we will take our game elsewhere, the fucktards.”

“Hey!! Michael Vick, I’m talking to you!!” Hank’s frustration turned into annoyance even though he wasn’t totally sure he was the one being talked to.

Gilda stood furrow browed with one aged fist balled up, and the other hand gripping rotting plant remains. “You tug like that on that dog again, Mister Meany, and I’ll show you the trap door to hell!”

Hank told Tommy to hold on then held the phone to his chest. He tongued the inside of his cheek in amused pondering. “Lady, do you have an issue?”

“Yessiree, I do,” said Gilda in her southern drawl. “That precious beast is a blessing, young man. A gift of the Goddess who deserves all the respect and mercy thereof.”

Hank shook his head in disbelief, taking a moment to run through his mind of random facts. “Listen, maaaaam, this ANIMAL is a domesticated canine which has been selectively bred over a millennia to enhance certain genetic traits through inbreeding that eventually became this short, little, purse-fitting, brown piece of shit.

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