Busy Week

I have not posted all week. Reason is, I have been out all night every night this week, on patrol, either on pad, on foot, or on tire, searching for signs of wolf. Except for the one night Rex and I attended a citywide weredog meeting down at The Den, downtown. The owner is one of us, and lets us hold meetings there after closing. We meet once or twice a month when there is a need to get reps from all the packs together. I can't tell you the real name of the place. But, you'd know it.

There must have been two hundred of us in there, some as dogs, some as people, some even as weredogs. It's a matter of personal preference. There is always some time to play before the meeting adjourns. I always like to walk around and see what everyone is doing - dogs playing cards, dogs and men dancing, dogs and women playing checkers and chess, dogs singing karaoke, dogs on stools arguing Nietzsche with bartenders. You name it. 

I don't want to give the wrong idea. We do actually discuss some important issues. Often we talk about human relations, leash laws, and "cat policy", which is always hotly debated.

This meeting got rolling, eyes were front, all tongues in, and they told us that indeed there was a sizable werewolf infiltration in Kansas City and that they had hard intel that the werewolves are up to something. "It is your jobs to find out just what the hell they are up to," they said. I rolled my eyes at Rex. "Great," I said. 

"Any ideas how?" someone yelped out. 

"Just keep your noses to the ground," they said.

Rex and I got back to his house just in time for him to get ready for work and for me to change back into a dog and get home before Jack got up to feed me, and Bella and Flecka. I beat him by seven minutes. I still had beer breath. That was Wednesday.

Jack and the Boys just got back today, Saturday, from The Ozarks. They went down a couple days to fish. It's the boys' spring break. All three of them came back mean as wolves because they caught nada. Jack was already in a bad mood lately. This made it worse.

Jack is a good fisherman. I know. I have gone with him several times, stood and sat in the bow, watched him haul in fish after fish. He says the fish gods have abandoned him. 

What non-fishers and non-hunters don't understand is that often you come back empty-mouthed. Sorry. Empty-handed. But, that's OK. Because as Jack is fond of saying, "Your worst day of fishing or hunting is better than you best day at work."

Time to sleep. No sleep nights, lately. And not enough time during the day for naps, So, I am falling behind, getting fatigued. Not a good thing if you come up against a werewolf.

Fresh meat to you.

Chester