Snowmageddon

Blue’s ears twitched – it was the only part of the dog that moved, as he lay still with his muzzle between his paws. He liked hearing his humans talk, even if he didn’t know what they were saying. He liked the rumbly sound of their voices and how they communicated affectionately with each other. Their communication made him feel part of something larger. They belonged to each other, and he belonged to them. He was part of their pack.

The rest of the pack was sleeping right now. Two little girls, the young ones, the babies, already in bed. This was Blue’s favorite time of day. Only when the little ones were finally asleep did his parents remember he existed. Much as he loved his human sisters, he was jealous of them. It was nothing more than canine sibling rivalry. Before the girls came along in rapid succession, one year after the next, his humans had paid him much more attention. He was petted more often, played with, cuddled, coddled. Now it seemed like they barely had time for him. The grownups were always focused on the girls.

Sometimes, they even forgot to let Blue out. He didn’t get walked as much as before. That really bothered him. He liked the fresh air and the exercise. He liked to put his nose up in the air and smell the wind or sniff the grass to smell the other animals that were there before him.

The worst part, however, was when he had to pee. He couldn’t hold it forever. Blue knew he wasn’t supposed to do his business in the house, but when he really had to go and the humans ignored his needs, or simply forgot about him, he had no choice. He peed in the baby’s room. After all, that’s what she did. If she could do it, why couldn’t he?

It was the only logical conclusion in his doggy brain. He could smell the dirty diapers in the diaper pail. Even if the device smushed the diapers and compacted them like sausages in their casings before sealing them tight, his sensitive nose could still smell the pungent odor. It led him to believe the baby’s room was an acceptable place to do his business. Unfortunately, his parents didn’t like it when he peed there. They scolded him and sprayed some sort of foul smelling chemical on the soft beige carpet. When they did that, it no longer smelt the same. It no longer smelled like his territory, his home. The room became a foreign, artificial land.

But, at the moment, all was well in Blue’s world. His father had taken him out for a long walk shortly after dinner. Blue was well fed and content. Right now his dad was talking to his mate, his voice low and amused. Blue could tell his humans liked talking to each other. It gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling.

His father was holding a newspaper. The pages made a crinkly sound as the man held them aloft. He slowly turned the pages, peering over them at his wife as he did so.

“Apparently, this year is our town’s sesquicentennial,” he said.

“What’s a sesquicentennial?”, his wife asked curiously.

“It means our town’s 150 years old. The article’s talking about this special ceremony they just held at the municipal hall. The mayor and the library director dug up a time capsule. It was some sort of large box, like a treasure chest, that was buried in the lawn between the town hall and the library. It was buried for 150 years and had lots of interesting stuff inside.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Well, one thing which I found kind of interesting was written prophecies that people wrote about the future of the town. What they foresaw happening over the years . . . “

“What did people think was going to happen?”

“The first one’s kind of scary. I don’t know who wrote it. It was signed anonymously. The person wrote that the town of Cedarville would end in the beginning of the 21st century, and everyone would perish.”

“Perish?” his wife echoed in disbelief.

“ Yeah, let me read it to you,” her husband cleared his throat and began to read. "At the turn of the 21st century, Cedarville will begin its descent into obscurity and darkness. The town, as we know it, will slowly cease to exist. All citizens living therein will eventually perish.” He paused a moment before continuing dramatically, “The beginning of the end will occur when all pets living in Cedarville will disappear one by one. The beloved dogs and cats of the town proper will be killed by an evil force lurking in the shadows, lying in wait for them. Pet owners are advised to especially beware of nights lit by a full moon. When the moon is full, it calls to the evil ones who lie in wait. It awakens their blood lust and thirst for fresh, warm blood.”

“Warm blood? That’s scary,” his wife said, her voice shaking. “It sounds like something from a horror movie.”

Blue heard the worry and fright in her voice. Her tone made him feel sad, lonely, and scared.

“Yeah, we better watch Blue,” the man said in amusement. “It’s the turn of the century now, and I believe the moon'll be full tonight.”

Blue’s ears pricked up at the sound of his name. Why were the humans talking about him? Had he done something wrong? Was he in trouble again? He hadn’t peed in the baby’s room for several days. He wondered what was going on.

Pushing the curtains aside, the woman glanced out the window before speaking again to her husband. Underneath the street lamp, she could see large flakes of snow swirling like ladies in lacy hoop skirts twirling in some sort of bizarre dance.

“I don’t know about a full moon but it sure is snowing hard. Speaking of pets, it’s coming down like cats and dogs.”

“Yeah, it’s a regular Snowmageddon,” the man said with a laugh.

Blue didn’t know what his humans were saying, but in the instinctive way that animals know when there’s a storm happening, even when they're inside, he felt uneasy. The golden hairs on his smooth coat stood on end.

When it came time for him to sleep, he spun around on the carpet ten times before finally settling down. Normally, it only took him three circles before settling in, but tonight, everything felt off kilter somehow. Finally, he fell into a restless sleep and immediately began having some sort of strange dream.

When he finally awoke, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming about. Blue just knew he didn’t want to wake up because the dream was so vivid. He was alive in the dream, while waking up and being pulled out of the dream without warning felt like a jarring entry into a cold, alternate reality.

Although he couldn’t remember the dream exactly, he knew he had been running. Whether he was running away from something or running towards something, he couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he needed to keep running. As he lay there on his fuzzy blanket on the carpeted living room floor, his hind legs had been twitching in a running motion behind him. When he awakened, his legs stopped so abruptly, it was almost painful.

As he groggily came to, sniffing the dry indoor night air around him, he suddenly heard the baby cry. Although Blue was used to the baby crying during the night, tonight’s high pitched wail sounded more distressed than usual. As was the normal pattern, the crying was followed by the sound of slippered feet as the baby’s mother scurried down the hallway toward her daughter’s room. The baby continued to cry for what seemed like an abnormally long time.

“Frank?”, the woman yelled.

“Yeah?”, her husband answered rapidly entering the baby’s room.

“Feel Chloe’s forehead. Does she feel warm to you?”

The man gently placed his lips on the baby’s forehead and then spoke frantically "Yea, she does feel hot. She’s burning up.”

“Oh no!” his wife said, picking the baby up gently and rubbing her back. She started swaying with the baby in the instinctive way that mothers do. “Can you run to the bathroom and get the digital thermometer? It’s in the medicine cabinet.”

“Okay,” the man said, rushing down the hallway. The baby then cried more loudly than ever and suddenly retched. A foul smell then followed.

“Oh no!” the woman cried once again, “Chloe just puked all over me!”

Blue just had to know what was going on. He especially wanted to know the source of that most peculiar smell. He had never smelled anything like that, and he had smelled many interesting pungent smells in the baby’s room. He quickly padded into the room, rubbing against his mother’s leg and lifting his nose in the air toward the baby.

The woman was covered in some green, slimy substance and the baby continued to cry in such a high pitched wail, it hurt Blue’s ears. Blue couldn’t decide if he should lick the smelly stuff off of his mother’s nightgown first or whine in distress like the baby. He decided to start first with a lick.

“Ooh, gross! Down Blue!” The woman pushed Blue away with her leg, holding tightly to the still crying baby, “Frank! Get that dog out of here! He’s trying to lick up the puke!”

“Blue, here boy!” The man called. No longer able to lick the interesting substance, Blue now went with Plan B. He started whining as the man pulled him out of the room by his collar.

“That dog’s gonna wake up Charlotte, too!” The woman screeched.

“Blue!” The man cried, “Outside!”

He opened the door and shoved the dog unceremoniously out onto the front step. “I don’t think he’ll go far in this weather. It’s too cold and wet out,” he reasoned to his wife. “I’ll just leave him out there until you get cleaned up and we settle the baby.”

Blue shivered in the frigid air. He felt alone and forsaken. Didn’t anyone care about him any more? What was happening tonight?

The biting cold was quickly sinking into Blue’s bones, and the night was eerily still. The full moon shone on the sparkling snow. The snow was already quite deep, and the tree branches were coated in thick fluffy powder. The snow was still coming down hard. Huge snowflakes were already sticking to his coat.

Blue took a tentative step in the yard, wondering if he was going to sink. He felt the snow come up to his knees. It was a strange sensation and not one he was sure he liked. He buried his nose in the snow, trying to smell the usual outdoor smells.

At last, he raised his head and shook his fur vigorously. He didn’t like the sensation of the snow clinging to his fur. Snow went flying everywhere. Suddenly, as he continued to shake himself, a strange sound split the night. It was a long drawn out yowl, followed by a series of yips.

Blue looked around him. The first thing he noticed was several paw prints in the snow, leading to the septic mound that paralleled the hedge row on the far edge of the property. At the top of the mound were a group of five smallish coyotes. They raised their heads to the sky in unison and howled at the moon. Then once more, they let out a string of yips.

Blue felt a strange compulsion to join them. The coyotes seemed wild and free, unrestrained in their passion for the moonlit, snowy night. He started running toward the snow covered mound. He no longer felt cold, but strangely excited. He sensed the group formed their own little tight knit pack, and he suddenly wanted desperately to join them. He wanted to be part of something new. His current pack wasn’t working for him and he felt unwanted, unloved. Blue continued running up the hill.

The leader of the coyote pack was the largest one, an alpha male. He stood at the top of the hill. The others gathered around him. They were starving. While coyotes were normally skinny, these coyotes were almost emaciated. It had been snowing for days and they had been hunkering down in the woods, trying to conserve their warmth and energy. Finally, they could stand it no more. They could no longer ride out the storm. Their hunger had finally gotten the best of them. They desperately needed to eat.

The leader eyed Blue hungrily. His large tongue licked his lips and drool escaped his lips. The others followed suit and also licked their lips, eyeing the golden retriever ravenously.

Blue couldn’t wait to join the interesting group. He had never wanted anything more in his life. He couldn’t explain or rationalize this strange compulsion. He just knew he was tired of being ignored, overlooked, stifled. He craved excitement and freedom, a sense of belonging. He sensed he could find that in this strange group. He wanted to be like the others, to throw back his head, point his snout to the sky, and howl in reckless abandon at the full moon while the snow flakes glistened around him.

Blue was starting to master the art of running in the snow. His paws gained traction and he hurried up the hill in anticipation. He now stood at the top with the others. The group of coyotes circled around him and yipped an excited greeting.

“Welcome! You’re now one of us!”

Blue let out a bark of joy. He finally belonged! He inexplicably felt at home in this little pack. He couldn’t wait to run off into the night with the others. His new pack.

The group continued to circle around him. Blue wasn’t sure why. He barked in confusion. What was happening?

The leader of the pack was staring at him, his eyes cold black stones. Blue felt a shiver go down his spine. He suddenly sensed danger. He was not a pack member he realized in sudden mounting horror. He was the prey.

His flight or fight survival extinct kicked in. Now his dream suddenly made sense. He realized what he had been running from. He pushed off the hill hard with his paws and began a frantic fight down the hill. The others followed him in hot pursuit.

The coytotes were working themselves into a frenzy as their excited howls pierced the night. They could smell blood in the air. Their hunger pains sustained them in their pursuit. They thirsted for Blue’s blood.

The leader, or the alpha male, was the fastest. He was now rapidly catching up to Blue. Although Blue was larger, the coyotes were lithe, agile and quick. They were used to hunting and knew just how to attack their prey. Blue ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He knew his very life depended on it. The snow had all fallen off of him by now in his mad dash.

He was now at the bottom of the hill and almost halfway across the yard. He could see the front door. The light shone in the baby’s bedroom upstairs. It called to the dog's heart, beckoning him to come inside to warmth and safety. Blue suddenly craved the comfort of the baby’s cries and being yelled at by his owners. If only he could get back to them, he would never displease his masters again in any way.

The lead coyote was quickly gaining on him. Blue had almost reached the house when the coyote lunged. Blue felt the animal’s hot, putrid breath in his face and saw the blood lust in his eyes. Blue let out a terrified yelp and suddenly fell down in the snow, feeling the cold wetness surround him.

The coyote’s sharp teeth sank viciously into Blue’s neck. The dog let out a yelp of pain and felt himself unable to get up. The other coyotes now caught up to their leader. As Blue lay buried beneath a blanket of snow, he felt pointed teeth sink into his tender skin undeneath his fur, one set right after the other. The pain was unbearable. He finally surrendered to it until he could feel no more.

Blue’s blood now stained the once white snow, while the flakes fell from the sky in a macabre dance. The leader of the pack lifted his blood stained muzzle triumphantly towards the moon. Once again, he let out an eerie howl. The others soon joined him in a yipping chorus. Snowmageddon and the bloodletting had begun.