Dorian Hargrove 6:30 p.m., Sept. 1
- Community Blog
Dirty Little Freak
Chris Nelson runs a dog rescue, but agrees to take in one of twenty foxes that have been specifically bred in a laboratory to be tame. She doesn't know it, but scientists have discovered a problem with their experimental animals. Instead of euthanizing them, they make the stupid decision to release them onto the unsuspecting public with disasterous results.
One night, Chris' son, Justin, is attacked by the fennec fox, but not in the way one would expect. The horny animal starts to fondle and hump the young boy, until he yells to his mom to help him "get the pervert off." Chris is perplexed and doesn't know what to do. No one from the rescue society will return her calls and she has too much regard for life to have the animal put down at a vet's office. It turns out to be a decision she later regrets...
Chris rushed to help her ten-year-old son, and found him flat on the floor, being dominated by the little monster. Mo was on top of Justin, alternately licking his arm from the elbow to the wrist; and, squeezing his testicles with his hairy paw.
"H-e-e-e-lp!" Justin hollered at full volume as Chris reached the open doorway.
The frenzied animal splayed himself across Justin's chest, and then followed a trail of kisses up his neck as Justin struggled desperately to pull him off. Surprisingly, Mo's little fingers had the power of a super-strength suction cup.
"Get him off! He's gay!" Justin shrieked. He continued to twist and squirm as he added, "God, what did you feed this guy?"
Chris looked bewildered. "I didn't feed him anything but kibble. Something's wrong with him, but it's not the food."
She pulled the little rascal's collar with all of her strength. Mo then turned around and stuck all four claws into her leg, causing her to howl. She spun around, shaking her leg wildly and kicking at the air to get him off, but to no avail. "Stop pinpricking me, you little sh*t!"
Justin was sitting up, smoothing his shaggy haircut and straightening the sleeves of his T-shirt.
"Justin, help me! Why are you just sitting there?"
"I don't want him all over me. Let's feed him to Mrs. Jeffries' beagles."
"Over my dead body and no less! I'm a vegetarian!" Then she shouted, "Ouch!" as Mo dug his teeth deep into the pad of her finger. She slapped his head a couple of times, but the tenacious creature wouldn't let go. "Don't just sit there, Justin, get him in the kennel!"
Later that night when Justin was in bed, Chris tried one more time to get a hold of the rescue society. It's strange, she thought, they were all over me when Mo needed a place to stay. As she hung up the handset, Mo picked up her arm and started to kiss her wrist, and then worked his way up to her neck. Actually, it wasn't bad. His lovemaking skills were a lot better than her husband's.
Finally, she shrugged him off and went to make herself a cup of coffee. She groaned at the thought of the fit Dick would throw when he came home. She'd promised him she wouldn't take in any more animals after the last fiasco. A Cocker Spaniel named Cheerio had gotten into the Viagra and spent the night at the emergency vet's office with an erection lasting more than four hours...
Chris had hoarding issues that had begun as a child. Due to her lack of parenting, she'd bring home any species in need of nuturing. A therapist once told her she was trying to give the love to animals that she never got. And come to think of it, she was still in need. Neither Justin nor Dick had given her any either.
While sitting on the couch, little Mo climbed up beside her. He rolled over and laid his furry head in her lap. Chris slowly stroked it, and felt her blood pressure drop. Why was it that a different species could figure out how lonely she was, but not her own husband?
"You complete me," she said.
Mo gazed at her with dark, adoring eyes, and gave her a toothy grin.
Suddenly, Chris knew what had been wrong all along. The problem wasn't with the animals and their difficulty adjusting to the human world. The problem was with humans and their intolerance of the least little mistake that animals made. What was more important, a life or a stupid bottle of pills?
When Dick arrived home late that night, he found his suitcase at the door. And then he saw the torn drapes, a shattered vase, and Mo stretched out on the couch, calmly watching Letterman.
"What the hell is going on?" he bellowed. "I thought we weren't going to have troublemakers around here anymore."
"We're not," Chris answered flatly. "And that's why I'm throwing you out."