Mystery: Part 1

 It was a dark and stormy night…

Who am I kidding? This is Southern California. There is no such thing as a “stormy night”.

Okay, it was a sunny morning before it got too hot. I went out back to kibbutz with the plants. All were well until I got to the Allen family (aloe vera plants in one pot; tight knit family). Mrs. Allen had been ripped out by her roots. Her death came as a devastating shock to the entire aloe community. The Alvarez’s, the Inlaws and the Outlaws and Ambrose all mourned with and tried to comfort the distraught Allen family. (The aloe community is quite large.) Not only did they have to cope with Mrs. Allen’s death, but the eldest son was missing. Something foul here. Trauma in the aloe world.

 The entire flora community feigned remorse for the Allen's loss, but some of them refer to the aloes as low-brow trailer trash. I mean, they are easy and they do procreate like rabbits on steroids, but I feel that there is some specie-specific prejudice involved.

So, to cut through the soap opera, something had broken off a good chunk of the aloe! Too big of a chunk to be anything that I have ever seen on the back porch.

Perhaps a crow on a midnight carousal accidentally broke it off? That is possible. Yes, I am sure that is it.

Then later as I was sitting on the deck playing on my computer when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of an animal. All I saw was the rear end of a black creature. My first thought was that Duchess had gotten out. That isn’t true. My first thought was Max had gotten out. Second was Billie Jean. Third guess was Duchess. It wasn’t Duchess. Shortly later I saw the neighborhood rabbit dart from the area where I saw the black beast.

I know! I know! The rabbit is the black, vicious monster I saw. He has a black, furry body-suit that he hides in the woods and he strips it off and innocently hops around the neighborhood. Yeah, that’s it.

Then two evenings later, I step on the back patio and to the left there is a dead bird on the tiles near the entry to Karla’s porch. There are three small birds that visit me often. Their visits are always fun. I’m not positive, as their visits were always brief and social distancing and masks and all that, but I think I recognized the feathered being. I haven’t seen the trio since

Who would do such a thing? This was definitely a homicide. Sweet little birdie was injured mortally in some savage attack. I didn’t have a clue.

Then Karla told me she’d seen a glimpse of the black brute.

The hair rose on the back of my neck. My body tensed. Many of you are aware that my late cat, Max was the second cousin once removed of the devil. I know of things that most people don’t.

Devil’s Disturbed Dogs… the DDDs for short.

You’ll understand my terror in a moment.