by David Kersey
CHAPTER EIGHT
As Cassie and I watched John retreat down the curved drive to await his help, we sat to decide what to do next.
"Let's go check on Mort first,"
She and I crossed the car park and approached the kennel. Mort was once again on his knees.
"How are you doing?"
"Ffffiiiiiinnnneee."
Mort's eyes were more glassed over than normal. I hoped for the best, he is old. Was his immune system strong enough? I told him John determined that he was stung by a bulldog ant. "I'll come back to check on you after the circle. There's someone on their way to stay with you. Hang in there, big fella."
"Oohhh Kkkk. Bbbuuuccckkkk, bbeee cccaarreeefffuulll. Gggeeetttt tthheee qquueeeennn."
I heard a vehicle off in the distance. Good. Help has arrived, I thought. Just a few seconds later, I heard the whop, whop, whop of a helicopter. More help. Double good.
The queen. Of course! I hadn't given that a thought. If the ants arrived in a log, surely there must be a queen, and wouldn't the bulldogs return to the log if she is still there?
And then it hit me. I searched for a good sized stick and found one not far from the kennel. "Cassie, carry this in your mouth and run with me." She did, and we ran after John. I barked all the way. We rounded the curve of the drive and there was John standing beside the driver's window of a car. I barked again and John took notice.
"Buck, this isn't the time to play." I barked, barked, barked and instructed Cassie to lay the stick by John's feet. I pointed at the stick with my paw and then pointed to Cassie.
John looked down at the stick for a few moments, then looked in the driver's window, and said, "My dog just told me to find the log and the queen bulldog."
"Good going, old boy, you're on to something, we'll do just that." And then I heard him say as Cassie and I turned to leave, "that pup never ceases to amaze me."
I grinned from floppy ear to floppy ear.
"So you think I'm a queen, huh?" Cassie mused. I nodded in the affirmative.
I was not that concerned about the mites. John is an expert. When he left us at the car park he was carrying a metal box much like his fishing tackle box which I assumed would be used to collect specimens. I knew he was on top of this as far as the mites go. But these mites eat flesh. What in the world? Why would something this evil happen?
"Cassie, let's go back and check on Ferd, it's bothersome that there are many new pond creatures, it can only mean they're running. That's not so good."
As we walked toward the pond, Oliver flew toward us, lit, and then walked the rest of the way. Had I ever seen him walk before?
"Buck, and Cassie, there is another dead pig down at the Klein place. Edgar flew to my nest an hour ago and told me the animals down at Klein's are on the move, headed this way."
Edgar was an eagle that sometimes could be seen overhead. I didn't know Oliver and Edgar were on speaking terms. Go figure. It seemed like the last two days had been totally upside down.
"Oliver, have you noticed anything else? I'd like to know your thoughts before the meeting."
"I've been busy, Buck, flying from place to place. I've been looking for an ant like Raspy described, like a wasp with no wings. I've seen nothing like that. The woodlands that surround the clearing I think is clear. I also checked the forest north of here. I think that's clean too. I did see Wendell stuffing his mouth in the cornfield but saw no ants there nor in the wheat field. Strange though, I saw some logs next to the corn that I don't think had been there before."
"Oliver, go fly again over the cornfield and see if you notice anything new. Mort got stung by a bulldog ant in there. Don't get too close and for sure don't land in there. Pay attention to the logs you mentioned. Those could contain ant nests. And if you see Wendell get him out of there. Cassie and I are headed to Ferd's pond, we'll see you at the meeting if not before."
"Well, I don't think you'll find Ferd, every time I flew over the pond he was not at his place on the bank."
Oh me, oh my. First Mort, and now another pig dead, livestock on their way here, Wendell in harm’s way, and please, let Ferdinand be alright.
We walked around the entire pond and there was no sign of Ferd on any of the banks. At this point, I was sounding an alarm in my head. I couldn't let my worry be contagious. I did have to be strong. Like John had said, scare them, but not to the point that they run away.
"Queen Cassie, help me be strong." We walked toward the clearing. As we travelled single file through the woodland path, Oliver flew a foot over our heads and lit in front of us. He dropped something out of his mouth. It was a bulldog ant, dead.
"Hate to tell you this, but Wendell will not be attending the meeting. The ants are all over him right now. I flew over that row many times. Had to make sure it was Wendell under all those ants. Buck, he wasn't fighting back. I saw this loner and swept down on him from behind. Smashed his head good. It looks to me like Wendell is occupying their focus because in most rows I didn't see but one or two loners."
I looked down at the ant. Yes, it was larger than any ant I had ever seen. But how could an ant of even this size be capable of doing in a weasel which is so much bigger and stronger? I became angry, an emotion I was familiar with but it rarely altered my behavior. This time it did.
"We're not supposed to put them in our mouths even when they are dead."
"I stopped by the pond and washed my mouth out just in case, but then put this thing back in my mouth, thought you'd want to have show and tell. Oh, and by the way, Ferdinand is back at his usual spot."
Poor Wendell. He was one of our own. I should have moved the circle meeting to earlier. Maybe this could have been prevented. Dang it, I knew a lot of the animals snuck into the cornfield for a meal. Why didn't I think of that as soon as Mort said he was stung there? At least Ferd is alright. I thought that if a weasel couldn't get away from these bullies then all of us are certainly at risk. I was both worried and mad. Mad at this dead ant and mad at myself.
Oliver picked up the dead ant and flew on ahead of us. It was time for the meeting.