Tippy, Chapter Eight

By Jim Thompson
HCP columnist

(Continued from last week.)

I rested for a while. The chicken didn’t show up again, so that night I took off, still following my ditch traveling plan. I soon came upon the tail waters of Rocky Fork Lake, namely Rocky Fork Creek.  

This was too deep and wide to jump or walk across. There were two choices: Swim or take the Route 124 bridge. I waited for a while, ran across the bridge and got myself back in the ditch.  

Still no chicken.

The road turns toward the left there, and out through the grass I saw a well-worn path that would be a short cut. I decided to take it.

Proud of myself – I had found a better way without the chicken. Being well-worn, I could run down this path quickly while high grass on both sides hid me from view. 

SNAP! 

And then shooting pain in my front right leg. I had stepped on a steel spring rabbit trap with my right front paw. I jerked and jerked and could not get free. It was bleeding.  

I kept passing out and then regaining consciousness. Time passed, and a bunch of rabbits came along. They started laughing and dancing around me. What appeared to be the lead rabbit said, “Ha! Ha! You are a beagle, our worst enemy, and you have been caught in the cruelest trap humans set for us! You have gotten what you deserve.”

They all kept laughing and dancing around me and jumping on me. I finally passed out again.  {D Jim and Pete and I were under the maple trees again. Jim was reading from the Black Book again. He closed the Black Book and said, “And that is the story of the Good Samaritan.” D}

Sometime later I woke up. My leg still hurt and there was a lot of blood in the trap and on the ground. I felt weak and was blurry-eyed. The rabbits were gone. In their place stood a larger animal, rust red in color – a fox! Where’s the chicken? I am doomed.

The fox said, “I always wanted to be a dog. You have it much better than us foxes. I don’t know why, but I feel a need to help you and I know how to do it.”  

He immediately started loping down the trail, toward the direction I had not yet traveled. He didn’t look like much help to me.

He came back in a little while with a couple of humans from the animal shelter, which just happened to be across the road. Apparently, he had gotten their attention, and they had followed him to where I was.

“Look at him! He is hurt!” one of the humans exclaimed.

They took me back to their shelter and called their veterinarian. He showed up shortly.  

“Well, his leg is not broken. I think we can heal him up in a couple of weeks. If we can’t find his owner, we can put him up for adoption in a couple of weeks after we neuter him.”

After we have neutered him??!! No thanks. Pete had described this procedure to me. I wanted nothing to do with this.  

Just when I thought I would be cared for, this specter of horror rises!

Jim Thompson, formerly of Marshall, is a graduate of Hillsboro High School and the University of Cincinnati. He resides in Duluth, Ga. and is a columnist for The Highland County Press.