Saturday, August 15, 2009
I took a break from wine making to go on Safari. I donned my wide brimmed hat, hid my eyes behind curved sunglasses and grabbed my muscle gun before taking off to the four corners of the jungle. When I arrived at the hunting grounds sweat washed down my face, pooling in the dimple on my upper lip. I held my big game blaster above my head before jumping into the local watering hole. I kept my eyes alert for signs of big game. What was that? I heard a rustling sound in the leaves. Yes, there he was, climbing to the right. I loaded my game blaster, took aim and fired. The little critter dropped like a tick touched by a hot match. I looked for more game, I saw my next victim in a corner sucking the life out of his own prey. Hands steady, I aimed and fired. My quarry scampered away on all eight legs. He didn’t get far; I kept blasting him until he too dropped. My trusted jungle guide Angel wagged her tail in approval and took up the hunt, chasing victim one, a lizard into one of the four corners of our pool deck. She sat, holding the little critter by the tail with one paw and batting it down with her other. She worked as a special agent in interrogation techniques for the CIA. After batting it awhile, she would let it go, pouncing on it as it tried to escape. I let her have fun in this way for a few minutes while I swam laps. Before retiring after a hard afternoon of hunting and wine making I took Angel inside and scooted the lizard out the screen door. I unloaded and racked my rifle and went in search of a new adventure. Until next time, happy hunting.