MourningSerial_2

As I stepped out on the deck the morning sun greeted me with a warm slap on the face. It was goin’ to be a hot one today; we should go to the shore, check out the harbor and see how the tourist trade is shaping up for this season…

“Hey, so here is your package.” Cocoa said as she pointed to the unassuming but very carefully wrapped brown paper package.

The package had been taped and wrapped in the style of Hollywood noir set piece: brown kraft paper, thick jute tie-material, serious tan kraft paper taping, the kind dispensed from a heavy single purpose commercial grade dispenser, found in the bowels of a Manhattan skyscraper publishing house, the one sitting in the shadow of the Chrysler building.

I picked up the package and marveled at its surprising weight and was shocked to see that it had an appendage. On the bottom of the package there was a fine filament-like cord, almost invisible extending from inside the package. As I began to pull on the lose end of the filament, to see were the other end was, I heard a sharp yelp.

“Godzilla ! Whats goin’ on” questioned Cocoa to the dog who looked equally if not more surprised by the yelp she issued from down in the clover over by the Ginko dwarf tree.

“Hey, it looks like this package is somehow attached to the dog” I wondered and posited aloud.

“What?” said Cocoa.

“This package that you dragged me out to see. It has this weird filament attached to it and it is attached to the dog.” I explained confidently between sips of still steaming coffee.

“What?” she said, thrusting down the funnies, Zippy flying by in a weird super hero costume, revealing Cocoa’s new topless bathing suit, her belly smeared with funny page red and blue. Hot out, indeed.

“Look.” I implored as I lifted up the package, with a bit of effort and dramatic huffing, displaying the glinting filament in the sunshine.

We followed the braided filament down to the dog, who had now started to gnaw at this cord-thing wrapped around her narrow short haired tail. Godzilla was a Manchester Terrier, so she looked like what you would imagine a miniature Doberman to look like, but she actually looke more like a Mini Dobie than Mini Dobie’s look like Dobies. Which is to say, she’s got all the muzzle and ears and disposition of Dobie shrunk down by two-thirds. Attitude to match the regular size Dobie, intact though. A real piece of work, Godzilla was. We often joked that when we rescued her, we should have called her Buttons, maybe that would have imparted the niceness we continued to delude ourselves into thinkin’ she harbored…

Like a giant piece of floss wrapped around a shiny black tail, as threatening as saber tooth, Godzilla was making zero progress gnawing the package’s entanglement from her tail. As I continued to drink my coffee Cocoa started to unravel the dog from the cord.

“Hey this stringy stuff is really weird. Its like really super strong and almost feels like silk. Hey did Spiderman drop this package off or something?”

“Uh, actually you’re not that far off!” I said as I gaped up at the ninety foot Red Pine at the edge of the woods, about forty paces from were we stood.

“What?” Cocoa said as she just about finished unwinding the dog from the filament.

“Look, there is a parachute up in the Red Pine. It appears that the package was dropped in!”

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