Do you ever wonder where all the stray animals go? Give up? Let me give you the answer. Somehow, some way they all make it to my house in Granbury.
It's true. Ever since we moved from Fort Worth to Granbury in January of 1985, stray animals have mysteriously appeared at our door like hoboes looking for a free meal.
My wife, Pat, bless her, has a tender spot in her heart for stray animals. She just can't seem to turn any away. I only wish my wallet was a full as her heart. So far, we have 6-dogs, 5-cats, 7-birds, and 1-pig-tailed monkey.
His name is Butch, and he doesn't like being last on the list of animals. Actually, he has been with us the longest so far, so I guess you could say he has seniority over the rest of them.
Butch talks to the other animals. Sometimes he will "Ooh" or grunt or screech. All the other animals seem to understand him. The dogs love to be around Butch and they often play together. After 30-minutes or so of rough housing each other, Butch will spend another 30-minutes de-bugging the dogs. He spends time groping through their fur coats hunting for little creatures. I won't go into detail about what happens to the little varmits, but suffice it to say that I don't let Butch kiss me anymore.
Today's monkey tail begins early one foggy morning last week when a deer appeared out of the mist and wandered up close to the house. Butch was outside in his big cage when he spotted the deer. He "Ooh-ed" and the deer walked over to his cage and investigated this strange new animal with a different smell.
They stood facing each other for a minute. Then Butch reached out his hand and touched the deer on the head. Then I saw him pull his hand back inside the cage and smell it. A strange scent indeed!
Remarkably though, neither animal seemed afraid of the other. Then I saw the deer gingerly walk around the cage, Butch following him on the inside. I guess the deer was trying to find a way to get inside with Butch.
The deer soon lost interest and began to wander off across the field. Butch "Ooh-ed" several times to the deer. It stopped once and turned its head around to look back at Butch. After a moment, it continued on across the field, finally disappearing into the morning mist from whence it came.
Duce is the penname of Carman J.W. Vance at the Crest Yard in Fort Worth.
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