Nelon’s Buffalo Adventure

    Giant, the Great Dane was inquisitive as to why Nelson the Toy Poodle was so far away from home. “Where are you going? ” he asked.

    “To hunt a buffalo.”

    Giant wondered if Nelson had gone stark-raven mad. “Why you’re scrawny and small, even someone as majestic as me wouldn’t be that foolish.” If the truth be known Nelson didn’t care if his adventure ended badly for him. He was sick, sick to death, of training humans to wait on him, to sit on laps and be cuddled, fondled, and spoken to like he was an infant. To return to the wild, to feel raw meat in his mouth, to gnaw a bone for hours at a leisure pace, and all this after a vigorous chase, yes this, exactly this, represented his new life.

    Sniffer, the Basset Hound, arrived and entered the conversation. “How are you going to smell and track the Buffalo?  You noise is too small and not sensitive  enough to find anything but canned food on the kitchen floor.”

    Nelson, ignored their discouragement. He was the dog of his day, this day or any day.  What experiences did these pessimistic friends have. Had Gaint ever walked around Neiman Marcus, ate scraps in the best restaurants, rode first class in an airplane, spent evenings laying on beds in the finest hotels around the world? The fact that these things had nothing apparent to do with hunting a buffalo was unimportant to Nelson. They showed his canine superiority over both Gaint and Sniffer and this would carry over in a capacity to successfully hunt a Buffalo.

    Bill the buffalo was grazing in a lush green field with several of his friends when he noticed Nelson stalking him. The highest of all forms of humor came upon him as he considered the hunter only slightly bigger than a mouse. Moments later with one great and impressive leap Nelson came at Bill, who still casually grazing. The lunge carried with it bare teeth and in another second Nelson sunk them into Bills lower leg, but not to deeply I might ad. Bill felt he must have a stinging fly on his leg, and without so much as glance at the culprit, he shook his leg quickly, Nelson hung on for dear life, but sadly to no avail, and he flew through the air crashed to the ground.

    A bit shaken but not hurt, Nelson realized he needed to be more forceful to come at Bill with a better plan. That’s it he thought, I’ll wait to he’s asleep and lying down, come at him under the cover of darkness, and with a doubly giant leap I’ll grab his ear. Tonight was darker than most, a tiny moon that had retreated behind a dark cloud. Perfect, perfect, Nelson thought as he began running toward Bill and shortly casting his body into the air. His mouth wide open and his canine teeth still bright under almost no light. His mouth flew shut, the ear was his. A  bad dream Bill first thought but as he awakened, he thought, that vicious fly has returned. It’s time to teach it a lesson about proper deportment in the wilderness. His tail rose high, much like a bullwhip  in preparation to unleash, without exaggeration it might have been the greatest thrust ever and Nelson who took the blow quite well crashed to the ground hard before taking three prolonged rolls.

Giant  and Sniffer watched from the tall grasses by the edge of the forest. They laughed as Nelson ran from the field and approached them. “Your try is over and gone," they shouted. "Over and gone, over and gone.”

    Nelson could still feel the taste of buffalo hide in his mouth. He opened his mouth spit out a few course brown hairs. They had been delicious. He felt radiant and happy. He said to them, “I’m not discouraged. Poodles are only happy dogs.”

    He had survived two attacks on the buffalo. The bigger they are the harder they fall, he had once heard a human say.

    The next attack plan came easy. 

    As the sun rose into a red ball of fire, he lurked in the grass. To stalk and wait for Bill to casually walk by him. At noon  Bill did exactly that. Nelson leaped high into air and planted his teeth snuggly into Bill’s tail. 

    Bill couldn’t believe is eyes as watched this insane poodle swinging back and forth on his tail. Bill decided to teach him a lesson and his swung like a snapping whip. Nelson’s teeth dug deeper but to no avail. He flew higher and higher into the sky. He closed his eyes as he spun round and round. He landed in a thickly foliaged tree next to an owl named Hooter.

I’ve been free of OCD for twenty-one years. The miracle of healing changed my life, so that I was free to leave my reclusive lifestyle. God’s presence and strength was in my life, which led to a desire to know more about Him. Joyce felt the same, so we spent many hours each day listening to a TV pastor who read through the Bible. We started to attend church and eagerly went to Bible studies. Often at night, I would pray for several hours. Weak and confused, I needed a reset on my thinking to function in the world I was to enter. Prayer was my corner stone and led me to the notion that I should write books.

My recover from OCD was like recovering from a broken arm. The cast (OCD) had been removed, but the arm (interaction with the world) was withered and needed rehabilitation. A new relationship with God had been created, but I needed to reconstruct my relationship with the secular world. First, I wrote a book about my living in the prison of OCD and my miraculous healing. Then, I started writing fiction books, each carried a message for help in my adjustment.

Nineteen-ninety six was a good year for me and especially good for Joyce. She could now go places and visit people with me. Most importantly, her level of worry about my ability to survive if something happened to her was greatly reduced. The process of moving forward with a new faith, energy, and desire, portended an exciting future.