2

Back in the Saddle

Today was the first day back from summer break for Dr. Talon Monsterjunkie and his students. He had worked all summer developing a new course called “Rare North American Primate Species” which the students would soon refer to as the “Sasquatch, Bigfoot, Grass-Man, or Hairy Man” class. While the world was skeptical, Talon knew better and firmly believed there were various cryptozoological species roaming the earth — that is, the odd creatures most people did not believe actually existed.

Yes, it promised to be an interesting new semester. He looked forward to the debates he was sure would arise, and thoroughly enjoyed the energy and enthusiasm of his students. Lively debate was the fuel that inspired many conscious souls over the centuries, not only to examine their own beliefs but to question the status quo and shift perceptions.

Dr. Monsterjunkie marched into the first floor zoology lecture hall, wearing his white shirt with sleeves rolled up under his usual black leather vest, dark trousers, and black boots. His one piece of jewelry consisted of a strange bronze ring with a green dragon eye that he received from Indigo and Crow as a birthday present three years ago.

Today, he was particularly tickled by his decision to start class with a poem projected onto the screen, entitled, If Dr. Seuss Were a Vet:

I won’t dispense it, Sam I am.
I won’t dispense without exam.
I won’t dispense it to your dog.
Although you’ll bash me in a blog.
I won’t dispense it to your friend,
who yells at me without an end.
I won’t dispense it for the ear,
For the eyes, or for the rear.
I won’t dispense it if you yell.
How mean I am - the world you’ll tell.
I won’t dispense it to your cat,
to your bird, or to your rat.
I won’t give in - I’m standing tall,
Although you’ll whine and cry and call.
I won’t dispense it, Sam I am.
You can’t have meds without exams!!

After turning on the screen, Dr. Monsterjunkie stood back and watched amusingly as his students poured into the auditorium. Most of them paused, squinted to read the poem, and smiled. This scene was repeated over and over for the next fifteen minutes before class began. “This is for all of you who might end up in vet school one day. This is something to remember in case you get an ornery animal in your clinic who wants to skip the check-up ... and I’m not just referring to the four-legged ones.”

“Who wrote that?” one student asked as others perked up in curiosity after chuckling at Dr. Monsterjunkie’s remarks. Their professor simply replied, “The author is unknown.”

After everyone settled in, Dr. Monsterjunkie began addressing the class. “Before we jump into a lengthy course of study on the alleged existence of a new North American primate species,” he paused for emphasis before continuing, “we must start with a discussion about how we view other sentient beings on the planet, what we know about their intelligences and emotional reactions, and how this knowledge guides our relationships with these animals. Here’s food for thought: Even among long absent friends, elephants, for example, are known to express their joy when they reunite with a cacophony of roars, trumpet, rumbles, and various physical displays of affection.”

The students listened with delight as “Dr. MJ,” as his students liked to call him, described the sophisticated feelings and relationships elephants have with each other.

The mood in the room, though, shifted to a more somber tone when he started to describe how elephants, among other species, also suffer from emotional pain in post-traumatic stress situations. “Baby elephants are known to wake up in the night screaming in terror and grief after witnessing the murders of their family members by poachers. This is just one example of the kinds of traumas that elephants don’t ever forget.” Dr. Monsterjunkie explained to his students that elephant herds were becoming more and more mentally unstable due to continuous encroachment, separation from their families for entertainment purposes, and isolation in zoo environments. Male elephants can be unpredictable when in a state of musth, but the larger problems are due to the intrusiveness of humans.”

“Nevertheless, they do incredible things to help each other, like dropping large rocks and logs on electrical fences to short the wires, pulling out tranquilizer darts from members of their herd, and travelling slowly because one member of the herd had not yet recovered from a broken leg or a female carrying her dead calf.”

In addition, he noted that, “as highly emotionally intelligent mammals, elephants have also been seen feeding other elephants who were incapable of feeding themselves and protecting calves separated from their mothers. As a matriarchal society, the bonds between mother and daughter elephants can last fifty years or more. Elephant feeling and compassion even extends to other species. There was even a story of one female elephant who made repeated attempts to rescue a baby rhinoceros stuck in the mud even though the rhino’s mother repeatedly charged her. So, do you think the fact that they have feelings makes a difference in how we view them or treat them? Remember, there was a time when men used to kill Aborigines because they were seen as non-human, and therefore, not valued.”

After nearly an hour of discussion, questions, and slides, Dr. MJ peered over at the large round institutional clock on the wall. “So, in terms of assignments for this course, you will be required to write one of three papers due this semester on today’s topic. I want a ten-fifteen page essay that addresses the following notion: We know so little about other species on this beautiful planet, especially their languages, their minds, and, perhaps, their souls. Tell me what you think about this idea. I expect credible online as well as other sources cited as references to back your ideas and beliefs. This paper is due in three weeks.” A wave of moans could be heard throughout the room. “I know, I know, but you’ll survive. It appears we are at the top of the hour. It’s time to go. See you on Thursday.”

On the other side of town, Rutherford J. Grimes, Sr. stared out the office window at his sprawling home overlooking the bay. He was not about to let anyone get in the way of his desires. It was his God-given right after all, to enjoy having what he wanted. He loved the thrill of the hunt in business or in sport as well as the win, the trophy, and the power it imbued in him. He reveled in control–his own version of manifest destiny. People like the Monsterjunkies were simply in the way. He despised what they stood for. What right do they have (or anyone else for that matter) to interfere with my earthly desires? And it bothered him that his son, Ruth, Jr., had run-ins with “that bizarre Monsterjunkie kid.” Since last year, Grimes had enlisted his son’s help in digging up dirt about the Monsterjunkies; however, the younger Ruth preferred engaging in random acts of intimidation and sneaky payoffs to friends who might help find ways to make the odd, macabre characters in Foggy Point High School want to move away. Rutherford also resented how the Monsterjunkies got their money—“handed to them, not earned the old-fashioned way.” To him, they seemed a little too happy, too nonchalant, and way too confident about life. Whether the Monsterjunkies harbored illegal animals was one issue that irritated him but Grimes was more interested in getting rid of them altogether, that is, out of the area, if not out of the country. Not to be forgotten, Grimes also fantasized about owning the vast real estate–prime real estate–that the Monsterjunkie property sat on.

Inside the window of his balcony office, Grimes looked out at his well-kept, manicured lawn. The view made him feel like the king of all ye survey. Everything was just as he preferred — neat and tidy. He spent hours over many months (when the ground wasn’t white or frozen) perfecting his lawn so that it was a bright and flawless emerald green. He had running water in all the fountains, Koi ponds and bird baths sparkling in the sun, and an obsession with nothing out of place. He became easily irritated when something was amiss. The interior of his home was no different. Housekeepers tended to not stay employed there for very long.

Grimes stood tall and in control in planning his next moves in business and in life–which were nearly one and the same. So it was that he had come to the balcony this afternoon to plot his next scheme against the Monsterjunkies. Grimes lovingly caressed his glass of thirty-year-old brandy and smoked his weekly forty-five dollar cigar. He balked at the notion of Talon Monsterjunkie as popular among his students, despised his alleged cavalier attitude, and was suspicious of the “ridiculous freak show” that prospered behind the walls of the MJ Manor. He was just a college professor, for God’s sake, one of those arrogant know-it-all intellectuals who are always trying to change the way things are.

Grimes sat down at his desk, tapped his tablet and swiped the screen until he came to what he was looking for: the web site for the local wildlife service. He began searching for a listing of officers stationed near Foggy Point, Maine. When he did not find any names it brought a sinister smile to his face. After all, he didn’t want just any fish, game, or wildlife agents. Grimes needed employees who’d be easy to work with, who would...