My Big Dog stalks across the field, making ever tighter arcs around the rabbit limping away in a pathetic attempt to escape. He will catch her, my clever strong beast. His sharp teeth will finish the job he started on her wounded leg; she drags it behind her, spattering the grass with droplets of fresh blood.
Tonight we will eat meat.
Rabbit just for Easter. Our very own Easter bunny.
I growl low and my mouth is drenched wet, salivating over the thought of freshly cooked rabbit over an open fire. Delicious juices dripping off the crispy battered and bruised rump, carved right off the spit.
The bunny looked so adorable with big floppy ears and fluffy tail waggling on her behind. So adorable. So gentle. So weak. So powerless. So very delicious.
The bunny strutted around waggling that white bushy tail in the faces of all who looked her way. Silly wabbit. You wanted attention little bunny, you got the attention of my doggy, you made yourself a target, you made yourself our dinner.
Daddy and I will feast tonight.
She cries out in desperation, in her last futile attempt to escape. I don’t hear her words or her meaning and I don’t care. I’m enthralled by the graceful action of my Big Dog, sweeping smoothly down on his prey and swiping bright red streaks of blood across the grass. He claws out her throat and bites down on her spine with a crunch.
The squealing meatsack drops heavily to ground. Her legs twitch for a minute or two, triggered by teeth crunching through her spine. My obedient Big Dog catching dinner for Daddy and me.
“Good doggie.” I say, enthusiastically patting Big Dog’s head while he licks himself clean of the red juices dripping off his paws and body.
“Messy doggie.” I jest playfully. He licks me hot and wet on the face. “Eeeew!” I roll away and grab for the water hose.
“Silly doggie!” The playful grin gives away my evil plot. Big Dog lunges for the hose but is too late and I blast him in the face with a jet of cold water. I wrestle the powerful hose in my hands, aiming it at my target. Big Dog lets out a gurgled yelp and rolls back.
Laughing, I spray the water indiscriminately making a beautiful rainbow in the wall of wet. A strong fist bursts through the jet stream and grasps the hose out of my hand. “That’s my Blade!” Daddy’s words follow shortly.
“Daddy!” I squeal with excitement. Daddy’s back!
His mock stern expression doesn’t fool me and I leap up to kiss his wet face. We laugh and roll in the cool evening light. Entwined for what feels like hours Daddy gives me his special treats in my special place and kisses me and whispers in my ear, weaving beautiful stories of hunts to come. Showing me how my doggy will catch the prey, demonstrating how his teeth will clamp down and tear at their flesh, drinking of my blood like a good hunt dog.
He makes me feel warm and fuzzy and as if I’m floating on air. Woozy with my devotion to giving Daddy everything he needs, I give him my body and blood, flesh and bone, crunching under his fists of love.
Soon the smell of roasting meat is filling my senses, rousing me. The heat of fire burns in the stone pit at the end of the garden and dries my damp clothes. Daddy wraps me tight in the blanket, snuggled up to him, showing me where the most succulent of meat can be pulled from her bones and feeding me her tender sweet flesh. Our special Easter supper, caught by our very good puppy.