Buck Vs. the Bulldog Ants Page 9

CHAPTER SIX

  I rose before the rooster did. The early morning in near light was punctuated by a low lying fog that was tired of flying high. I paced in circles while still in the kennel. Thinking. What to do first? Visit Ferdinand? Maybe. Wait, Mozetta, who is the staff cook, has a personal garden behind the house. I'll look there before I do anything else.

  I walked the perimeter first alongside the double row of onions which boxed in all four sides of the garden, and which supposedly helped prevent vermin infiltration. Who knows? I also smelled the distinct smell of ammonia and noticed crushed red peppers mixed in with the onions. Mozetta was certainly old school and I supposed these were hand-me-down techniques to stop the loss of garden items to hungry varmints. All I knew was they hadn't stopped Randall. No signs of ant life, so I stepped over the double row and onto one of the four interior garden rows. I don't know if these ants give off a scent or not, but it wouldn't matter much, the smell of the herbs in this row and the ammonia temporarily overpowered my sniffer. Row two was all tomatoes on the left, and a combination of cucumbers and potatoes on the right. I walked slowly, also taking a look at the leaves. The tomato plants were almost as tall as I am. I went very slow, looking, sniffing, and stopping to hear anything. Nothing so far. Row three was snapping beans on both sides. No large ant activity that I could see. The last row was watermelon, strawberries, gooseberries, and huckleberries. Hmmm, plenty of nectar sources here. I did see some ants in each row, but not the right kind, and a ladybug which I hoped would bring me good luck.

  A kitchen window opened and there was Mozetta. "Yaw, Buck, yaw git outta my garden for I comes out der an’ takes a whippin’ to ya," followed by a belly laugh and a retreating, "Lawd have mercy." Hmmm, I guess our top secret mission is still under wraps, because if anybody could find out, it would be Mozetta. She might be old school but I had to admit this garden looked healthy.

  Just then Cassie rounded the corner of the house and saw me. "What's the plan, Buck?"

  "Good morning Cassie, did you sleep well?"

  "No, I tossed and turned and for a while dreamed I got eaten by a zillion bugs."

  "I hear that. Well, the plan is that we put one foot in front of the other until we come to a plan. I think I'd like to go to the meadow and just relax for a bit, and on the way we can keep a sharp eye for the big, bad, bulldogs."

  "That sounds very much like a plan, Buck."

  We started a leisurely but watchful stride toward the rising sun. Silence between us, each in deep thought. I had to know something but had withheld bringing it up, but now with the impending danger it was time to ask.

  "Cassie, do you trust the circle members, I mean, are there some you don't trust?"

  "Oh, Buck, you are the best judge of character I have ever known, and I trust you with my life. I have so much wanted to say something but I have kept quiet because I trust you so much. I totally trust you, Mortimer, Penny, and Oliver, that's it as far as totally."

  "Wow, you don't trust Dorcas?"

  "No, I don't Buck, not totally." Dry feathers came to my mind.

  "Or Methusaleh, or Stammer, or Felicia?"

  "Buck, the twelve of us are like a representation of an entire society. I know we don't have lions and elephants or even a horse in the group, but we are representative enough. You've done such a good job bringing us together and teaching us so many things, and especially coaching natural adversaries to tolerate each other. I have a premonition, Buck, you know I am female after all, that when the going gets tough, I mean if it does, then the glue that we have will weaken to the point of breaking us apart. I especially don't trust Wendell, and Rasputin is not far behind, and to me there is something fake about Felicia. I don't know enough about Randall to decide if I'd trust him."

  "Thank you for the kind words, Cass. You know, I've thought about that very thing, that is, are we strong enough to withstand the heat if it should get white hot? I struggle with trying to make judgments about us, for if I judge wrongly, then I become a weak part of the glue. And wrong judgments lead to prejudices, profiling, and making preferential treatments. Like, I know squirrels hoard their gathered nuts and don't share them, but should I judge the entire species, or transfer that view to another type? So when I think about who might be the first to break ranks I do so hesitatingly. Sure, I have my ideas, but I've thought it prudent to just shelve those kind of thoughts. So I am going to trust each and every one of us until there's good reason to distrust. Do you know what I mean?"

  "I do, Buck. And I appreciate your diplomacy. But I think you're being naive. It doesn't hurt to keep tabs on us, does it?"

  "I see us, I mean the group, as each having strengths mixed in with weaknesses. So I have made judgments about each member's traits. Yeah, I guess that is judging, but I thought it necessary to have a group that is stronger than its individuals, you know, the whole is stronger than the parts. We've all had such easy, simple, even cushy lives here. Just look at this meadow, it is strong and thriving despite its varied parts. This is easy, Cassie, only the weakest cannot survive on this estate. We've not been tested. Will we rally, or will we rail when and if the ants come here?"

  "Or will we fight, or will we flee?" Cassie added.

  "Exactly. Cassie, let's sit here for a little while. I haven't told you that there is more to the threat than just the bulldog ants. There is the possibility of crop and livestock contamination. We could be talking about the potential for a blight, sickness, and death." I then told her more about the ant and then about the spider mite.

  "What in the world is happening, Buck?"

  "I'll explain more about that at the circle. It worries me, Cassie. When basic needs are not being met then I suppose nature takes a turn for the worse, I mean, it may bring out the worst in all of us. We could have circle members turn on each other. And something else, but give me a moment." I looked out at the meadow and then decided to go ahead and expose myself. "Cassie, this will be hard for me to say just right and I hope you take it the right way. Cassie, if I was a cat, I would ask you to leave with me and let's go find a safe haven and live out a happily ever after life. So you see, there's a little bit of a deserter in me too, but the thought of you getting hurt, or worse, is unbearable to me. I care for you so much."

  "Oh, Buck, you are making me blush!"

  "I know, we are different, and what would folks say? It is what it is, I'm a dog, and you're a cat. But I can still love you."

  "And I love you back, Buck. Oh my, that sounded like something Dorcas would say."

  We both laughed and sat in stillness, looking out over the meadow. How my mood had changed in just two days. My emotions had explored the depths of fear as well as love.

  Perhaps that is what fear is, a protective shell covering the nucleus of love, the engine which propels actions and reactions, including expressions of emotional behavior in the face of imminent danger. Like a soldier hugging his family at the moment of being deployed to a faraway place, or a racecar driver kissing his wife before climbing into the car, or a dog expressing to a cat what he felt deep inside because he was downright frightened.

  We both contemplated what our hearts had leaked out of our mouths. It was the first time I had ever used the L word, and I’m sure my face was red. So be it.