The Laugh Is On You

The Laugh is on You

As I look around I see men dressed in hunting gear, holstered guns on their hips, and rifles slung over their shoulders. There are thirty to forty men and approximately sixty dogs. Their dogs surround them, some tied on ropes, and some in cages in the back of pickups, and where ever else you could put them. It is a crisp autumn day; the sun has been up for about an hour. It will soon be time for the run, the run of the fox. The men are hollering commands and the dogs are barking. It’s time to go, a command is given and their off. The lead dog is a Brittney Spaniel, her name is Gidget, and following her is Duffis, a Black Lab that is just learning the ropes.

A howl comes up from the dogs; the chase is in earnest now as from under a fallen tree a shiny red coat appears. Giving it all he is worth the fox leaped over a fallen tree and runs, runs for his life. Across a narrow clearing with the dogs hot on his trail. The sound of the barking dogs and the commands of the men cannot be explained, and in the middle of all this the fox runs. He runs over and under logs that are in his way. Burrs scratch him and saplings slap at him, but still he runs. Maybe if he can make it to the fence, it will confuse the dogs.

Several weeks before, he had dug a hole along the fence line. The hole was somewhere close, but where? "The thistles", where were the thistles? He saw them up ahead. Off to the left, he didn’t have much time, he could feel the breath of the dogs, closer now. With his last ounce of courage he dove for the hole. As he slipped through, one of the dogs grabbed his tail, he felt the tug but nothing could stop him. Barking and howling could be heard from behind him. He gathered all that was left of his strength. Through the thistles and brambles and underbrush he ran. Quite tired now, but he wasn’t giving up.

Ahead was a clearing, he must get past the clearing, and over the rise. At this time he could hear the dogs, but he couldn’t see them. Where were they? The men were hollering, but about what? Someone was laughing, then someone else. The fox stopped in the middle of the clearing and turned towards the fence. Not a dog in sight. Where were they? What had happened? He was so tired, he wanted to rest but every muscle in his body was alert, almost expecting a movement in the brush. His mind was screaming run, but nothing happened.

The sun felt warm upon his face, and he relaxed a little, still wary, but still watching. The noise of the dogs grew fainter and the voices of the men could still be heard giving commands. The fox closed his eyes just for a moment as the warm rays of the sun bathed across him. He must have slept for when he woke the sun was disappearing behind the trees. He walked over to the fence, and peaked through the hole. There on the ground was a tuft of red fur but nothing else. The dogs and the men were gone. He ducked through the hole and pranced around, head held high, marking different bushes as he went. Casually he walked back to the hole in the fence and safety. Unbeknownst to the fox, several feet away on a fence post was nailed a sign that read.

GOVERNMENT PROPERTY
NO TRESPASSING
NO HUNTING

@ K.L. Farnum

Story ID:	1574
Written by:	K. L. Farnum (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Musings, Essays and Such
Location:	Dry Ridge U. S. A.
Year:	1997
Person:	The Fox