The water is starting to feel too chilly, so I pull myself onto
the banks of the little pond I call home, lazily moving up until the
full beautiful length of my tail is at least a head from the water.
At this point I flop into the soft ground and wait for the sun's
warm rays to reach me. The blissful heat soaks through my thick
green skin, caressing my muscles and lulling me to a gentle doze.
I think about what has happened in my life recently, not much
really. Alligators don't have much to do, but I do get to go out
sometimes. Just last week I was kidnapped by a large human male. I
would be tempted to eat him for that, except that he also comes here
often to feed me; and I do like food. Anyway, I'm too contented
right now to be angry. You might even say that I'm blissful. Until
I feel a heavy weight land on my back and two strong hands circle my
jaw. Not again! This human creature is definitely asking for it this
time!
He is much bigger than I am, but I'm very strong. I thrash and
wiggle under his weight, hoping to throw him off me and get him to
release my jaws. The moment he does he will feel the sharp sting of
my wrath on any part of his body I can reach with my razor-sharp
teeth.
I suddenly remember how last time he kidnapped me he called me a
"five-year-old gator". I also remember the first time I ever
went out, how I was surrounded by so many humans. A few of them were
large ones like the one harassing me now, but mostly there were
smaller humans. I would have been scared if I hadn't been so mad,
but I would never admit it to my friends.
Anyway, I was just little then, barely the length of a head. Since
then I have been out many times. Always the humans touch me. The
first time I was frightened, and I tried as hard as I could to
pretend I was dead, holding stiff and still. But after a while I
realized the humans never hurt me when they touched and stroked my
skin. Soon not only did it not bother me, but I found I kind of
enjoyed the touches, especially when one of the humans would stroke
my chin or the base of my head or tickle my belly, then it felt very
nice to be touched.
The memories distract me, and I stop thrashing long enough that
he's already put the foul wrapping around my jaws and covered my
eyes. I give up. What is the point of fighting if I cannot see where
to go? He's talking to me in soft murmuring tones now, I think "if
only my mouth was free" ... but it is not. Soon I'm loaded into
a box and the ground begins to rumble around me as it always does
when I go out. I've grown used to this, too. I fall asleep and
when I wake the human is opening my box. He removes the cover from
my eyes and I can see!
There are many little humans here, and he's
holding me in the air so they can all see me. He will say things I
have heard many times before. And then they will start touching me.
I feel a little agitated still. I look into the eyes of the little
humans as they stare intently at me, their soft human eyes seem so
untrustworthy. Anything can be hidden in eyes like those. The human
puts me back into the box and closes the lid. He continues to talk.
He says words that sound like "python", "wild", and "trees".
I can hear the humans inhale sharply, but I'm much more interested
in the light I can see through a hole in my box.
This light hasn't been in the box the other times I've been
out. This time there is a hole. I push up against the hole with my
snout, it gives ever so slightly. I push harder. The box creaks
quietly as it gives way, little by little, and soon a hole large
enough for me to push my head through has opened in my box. My head
is out of the box and one of my front feet. Now both front feet, I
struggle to squeeze the rest of my body through the opening, all the
way down to the tip of my tail. A thrill of freedom surges through
me.
It lasts only a moment before I realize the humans are all around
me. I move forward to a stand of bushes straight ahead of me. Most
of this path is next to a grouping of boxes. There is, however, one
small space where I have nothing to hide behind. In that moment, out
of the corner of my eye I can see all the little humans staring
intently at the big human man who has now caught a very large yellow
something. I slide into the stand of bushes unnoticed.
On the other side of my bush is freedom, freedom as sweet and
delicious as the birds I catch at my pond. I smell water and head
toward the source. A very small round pond with a high bank is
there, not far away, off to my right. I reach the bank and climb,
with very little difficulty, over the hard, stiff bank and slide into
the lovely water. The temperature is perfect; not too warm, not too
cool. There are no plants here, and no fish, but this pond will do
for a while. I realize I am hungry now. I am always hungry. And I am
very good at hiding in water, so I will sit here and wait. Something
small and tasty will come along soon. Now, to remove the wrapping
from my jaws.
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