Culling the herd

By Jack Elliott
Correspondent

Whether on the African Veldt or here in the Drizzle Creek District everyone knows the herd must be culled. The old, the weak, the crippled, the slow- a time will come when each must succumb.
My time was very nearly up the other day. We had returned the gene pool to their home lair, and exhausted after the two day trip of ‘Are we there yet’, I had opted for that senior prerogative an afternoon nap. I must have appeared dead as suddenly two small, but amazingly powerful bodies attacked me.
“Papa, you’re an antelope, and we’re lions. We’re going to eat you up,” growled one as the second lioness clung to my throat doing her absolute best to throttle me.
I lunged, bucked and protested, managing finally to throw off my attackers, but was simply too exhausted to make good my escape to the bathroom.
In desperation I resorted to chemical warfare. My attackers withdrew..
“Phew, Papa you smell like a stunk!” snorted Emily as the lionesses retreated upwind. I was pleased not only with the performance of my defense mechanisms, but also the gene pool’s appropriate morphing of the English language.
“I hear you grandmother calling you. Go see what she’s doing. I think she was going to bake cookies,” I lied, further enhancing my survival chances, by diverting the lion’s attention to a slower moving member of the herd.
“Lala, let’s make cookies,” was the sound I heard prior to the Pearl’s groan as she hoisted herself off the sofa. The bedroom door slammed as the last lion retreated and I drifted off to the comfortable rattle of cooking utensils.
My peace was not to last long.
The two medical attendants entered my room.
“Sir, are you awake yet. Time for your medicine,” announced the first authourity.
“Open your mouth. I have a nice chocolate pill for you. Lala says it will make you not stunk so bad,” I was informed by the second attendant..
I suggested they get lost, but they were having none of it.
Two bodies again hurled themselves atop me. One applied a choke hold with one arm and grabbed my nose with a remarkably strong grip. The other demonstrated her best horse riding technique by bouncing on my stomach and applying two knees to the ribs. Her grip in my lower lip along with the opposing force on my nose managed to open my mouth far enough to insert the medication.
Unfortunately it missed my mouth and went up my nose. I managed to snort most of it out before it totally melted. The rest of the melted chocolate and rice crisps were forced into my gullet and I obediently chewed and swallowed, with the promise I would be freed of my tormentors if “I was good”.
The pride retreated. I started to drift back to sleep and then decided I’d better move on to fresh pastures.
Goodness knows when they’ll be back with a pronouncement like, “Papa you stunk ‘cause you gots a sick pooh. “We’ll give you a ‘mnema, ‘Kay!
I could expect no help from the Pearl.