THE IMAGINARY BEAST

In most circumstances one cannot discuss small furry creatures with other adults. Eyebrows will cock if you do. This is a very great pity altogether.
If, as an example, I tried to start a conversation in a bar or drinking establishment by saying "the weasel family -- mama weasel, daddy weasel, and little Mary Weasel -- sat down to a scrumptious curry dinner, shalgam and mooli in a most delicious tichwan", the chances are that some big brutish biker-type would lift me up and throw me out.
Too many indigestible concepts.

Never mind that I would explain that weasels are extremely clever, and quite capable of preparing feasts!

Or that curry is a metaphor for man's unassailable place in a cold and dispassionate universe. There's existential angst here, dude, angst!

He'd go back to his beer, and I would get up off the pavement, rubbing my bruised bottom and wondering what the heck just happened.
Adult men just aren't into curry, I guess.

Possibly not even narratives involving small beasts.


IMPRESSIONS OF INTRIGUED INTEREST

Egberta the dachshund regretted her name. She hadn't thought about it as a puppy, but as she grew older she realized that 'Egberta' was an unusual appellation. None of the other animals in the midden had such a complicated handle. She often felt that it was a handicap, and sometimes resented her foster father for dumping it on her. Why, her life might be so very different if she was called 'Mathilda' or 'Eloise', or something just a little more feminine and normal! Perhaps even 'Jennifer'!
She wondered what she would have been like.
And would she have had more friends?
She knew that she was different.

AFFECTION AND POSSIBILITIES

Balthasar, who had cared for her ever since she was a little blind wriggling ball, considered 'Egberta' to be an utterly perfect name. She had been small, so small, and so very much unformed when he found her. Quite like an egg, even in general appearance. Always curled up.
And now that she was nearly grown, she was a most unusual dog. Unique, in fact. Perspicacious, intelligent, inquisitive, assertive, and possessed of both remarkable boldness and gallantry. Truly a 'bright blade'.
He had named her after Egbert of Wessex, who had been in forced exile for many years, before finally returning to his kingdom. Perhaps, like her ancient name-sake, she would have a child called Æthelwulf - "noble wolf". A very suitable name for a feral dachshund, indeed. It spoke of pride and resolve, fierceness and valour.

TRUST, OPPORTUNITY, AND CHALLENGE

Balthasar's den was composed of tunnels that went everywhere. One of which opened out onto the midden, where the rabbits played. He didn't really like rabbits, they were very silly creatures, but he realized that little Egberta needed other youngsters around her while growing up. It was good for her social development, and would make her a well-rounded individual. And besides, dachshunds are gentle, and roughly the same size as rabbits. So in a way she was among her peers.

At the back of his mind, though, was a dark fear that she would become too close to one of them. That wouldn't be good. Everyone knew what rabbits were like. Couldn't trust them, they had tendencies. And despite her impressive intelligence and sociability, she was young, so very young.
The elderly badger realized that he could not guide her forever. It was a miracle that she had come into his life. Dachshunds and badgers normally didn't cross paths. She would eventually have to find her own way.

He hoped she would around for along time. She was one of the very few animals he could talk to. And there was just something about her soft understanding eyes that spoke to him.
Additionally, anyone who could find her way around his labyrinthine burrow with such confidence was admirable. In a different life she too would have been a badger.
Not a rabbit. Never a rabbit.

Rabbits are not fit company for arthritic badgers.
They're flighty, and can be rather vulgar.

******

At some point the weasels will quite likely meet Egberta, and invite her in for some curry. That may be the evening they prepare lamb vindaloo.
Because, of course, one cannot expect a dachshund to hold with a vegetarian diet. And weasels, though small, are also carnivorous.

I envision a close friendship between Mary the weasel and Egberta.
They have so much in common.



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