Lost in the Blinded Blizzard by John R. Erickson Page B

said . . .”
    He poked me in the nose. “Hunk talk too much. Coyote not scared of nothing.”
    â€œAll right, then sing your old song. I dare you to sing it right now, in the middle of a blinded snow . . .”
    He shoved me down into a sitting position. “Hunk shut trap and listen.”
    â€œI can handle that.”
    â€œAnd after we singing, then we eat, oh boy!”
    â€œI don’t think I could hold another bite, Snort.”
    â€œShut trap!”
    â€œYes sir.”
    I shut my trap and listened to their new song. It turned out to be another low-class musical experience, a little piece of coyote trash called “We Don’t Give a Hoot.”
    We Don’t Give a Hoot
    I guess you might think we are dumb and stupid,
    And maybe you think we can’t sing.
    And maybe you think we can’t make up rhymes,
    And if that’s what you think . . .
    Then we’ve got a message for you, mister,
    And you’d better listen real good,
    â€™Cause we’ve got one thing to say to you
    And here is what it is . . .
    We don’t give a hoot,
    We don’t ever wear a suit.
    We’re nothing but animals,
    Outrageous cannibals,
    We don’t give a hoot.
    I guess you might think that we smell bad
    But it’s only because we stink.
    But who wants to smell like petunias?
    Not me . . .
    Me and my brother don’t want to offend
    Anyone with our smell,
    So if you should find us offensive,
    We will beat you up . . .
    â€™Cause we don’t give a hoot,
    We don’t ever wear a suit.
    We’re nothing but animals,
    Outrageous cannibals,
    We don’t give a hoot.
    Being a cannibal’s lots of fun and goofing off,
    We don’t ever have to take baths.
    Or clean up our room or eat any spinach
    Or dental floss our teeth . . .
    We fight all the time and howl at the moon,
    And pick our noses a lot.
    And if you don’t like what we’re singing
    We’ll beat you up again . . .
    â€™Cause we don’t give a hoot,
    We don’t ever wear a suit.
    We’re nothing but animals,
    Outrageous cannibals,
    We don’t give a hoot.
    Well, when they finished their song, Snort swaggered over to me. He was wearing a huge grin on his face and I could tell that he was proud of himself.
    â€œUh! What Hunk say now?”
    â€œWell, uh, you might say that I’m at a loss for words . . . so to speak.”
    â€œBetter find words real quick, so to speaking.”
    â€œRight. Well, Snort, on the one hand, that is a very, uh, strange song.” He bared his fangs. “But on the other hand, it’s strangely beautiful, in a strange sort of way.”
    â€œNot strange.”
    â€œExactly. Not strange at all.”
    â€œOnly beautiful.”
    â€œRight, you stole the words right out of my mouth.”
    â€œHa! Coyote like to steal.”
    â€œYes sir, you’re quite a thief, Snort, and I say that from the bottom of my . . .”
    Oops.
    A gleam came into Snort’s eyes. “Uh! Coyote hungry for heart!”
    â€œI didn’t say that word, honest, cross my heart . . . oops.”
    â€œCoyote not care what Hunk say. Coyote ready for big grub, oh boy!”
    They were coming toward me, licking their chops.
    â€œNow wait a second, let’s don’t . . .” I started backing up. “How about another song, guys? I mean, it would be a shame to quit just when we’ve . . .”
    They were shaking their heads.
    I kept backing up until my backside backed into an embackment. Embankment, that is. And there I stopped. I had reached a dead end and was surrounded by cannibals.
    In the Security Business, we have developed many escape procedures for many difficult situations, but we have never solved the puzzle of how to escape a dog out of a dead-end situation, surrounded by cannibals.
    That’s a toughie. All reported cases have ended in sudden death, followed by feasting, singing, and loud belching.
    In other words . . . I think