A Donkeys Life for me

A Donkeys Life for me

A Chapter by Robert Francis Callaci
"

a tap dancing fool

"

A Donkey’s Life for Me (700 Words) (revised)

 

     Margarete had no more tears to shed. Twenty-four hours of crying took its toll. Her feeling of loss was profound.  Her beloved donkey, “Tito” had been donkey napped by a despicable gang of prankstering thugs.


     A few days passed and yet no ransom demands. She was beside herself with grief, no, no, not grief-for Tito was still alive-(he had to be), but despair. The town council assured her that no stone would go unturned, every lead explored, every building and house searched, until the pirates were caught and Tito safety returned to his human Mothers arms.


     All the assurances and good intentions didn’t ease Margaretes’ pain. She raised him from a baby jack to the grand thirty year old dance happy donkey that he was today. She only wished that Tito screamed out with his husky He-Haw, (that the townsfolk and all of their children loved to hear), when he was being abducted, but he was very trusting and comfortable around people, so he probably went along with them without a sound. She shouldn’t have gone right to bed and instead listened to her gut that something was wrong. The one time that she discounted her instincts; led to Tito being abducted.


     As the third day ticked away, with no news, Margaretes’ anguish turned to rage. She decided to take matters into her own hands. She was a master tracker in her old prospecting days when she and Tito use to hunt for gold, and other precious metals, in those old desert valleys, hills, and mountains. It was in those cold desert nights where she taught Tito to dance. He loved his carrots and sugar cubes. She packed her old tools, weapons and other paraphernalia needed for the hunt, into her pickup, and headed north.


     From the tire tracks that were in front of her barn, she deduced the direction as well as what make of trailer and truck was used to abduct her friend, Tito.  She had to assume that if those b******s wanted ransom or some type of credit for their nefarious donkey-heist they would still be in a 100 mile radius of the town. She knew every abandoned barn, farm or homestead in the area. It was just a matter of time before she found them.

~~

“It’s been three days since that damn donkey has eaten or taken a drink. We need to return him back to his owner before he dies of thirst or starvation”


Carol rolled her eyes as she said, “That’s all well and good Barry, but the donkey refuses to stand up. And when one of us tries to go near it, it tries to rip our hands off.”


“Our Big Game Vet should be here any hour to hoist the donkey in the trailer, force feed him and leave him outside of town to be found. How ironic that it turns out it’s us, who have become animal abusers.” said Sal.   

~~

     Margaretes heart skipped a beat as she saw the truck and trailer in front of Dillard’s abandoned farm. The barn door was open which she hoped was a good sign. Much of her fury dissipated and relief washed over her.  She was about to call the town sheriff to inform him that she found the pirates hideout and that she would wait for them to arrive.


     She was startled by the tapping on her window. A young man in his twenties told her that they were relieved that she arrived. He said, “We’ve been waiting for you Doc-your patient is in the barn.”


She nodded, (smiling inwardly at her good fortune), got out of the pickup, strapped the duffel bag of “tools” under her shoulder and headed for the barn.


When Tito saw her, he stood up, and He-Hawed like he never He-Hawed before. She hugged him and spoke some soothing words in his ears.


“Wow doc you sure have a way with”- were the last words spoken by Barry as a bullet blew out his brains. Carol and Sal were stunned and stood glued to the ground as a machete sliced through each of their heads.


     Margarete and Tito danced over their corpses while the vultures swooned above…

 

 



© 2016 Robert Francis Callaci


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Added on July 5, 2016
Last Updated on July 5, 2016
Tags: mini shorts of all sorts-

Strange Tales for Lost Souls


Author

Robert Francis Callaci
Robert Francis Callaci

Port Richey, FL



About
My passion is writing- I've been writing a mythological tale on the many facets and faces of GOD- I've been a net poet for the past seventeen years- I'm a former admin at lit .org and active one (Patr.. more..

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