Desperate jackals

As I rounded a bend in the mountain, carrying my shotgun and gnawing on a chicken leg, I saw a small jackal standing alone under a small tree by the roadside. This is a still lactating jackal cub, the fleece is as fine as the filaments of a dandelion.

I hurriedly threw away the chicken leg that I had just eaten two bites, unloaded the shotgun, and opened the bolt with a clatter. I know that the jackal is a mother and child bonding animals are very strong, the mother jackal is always vigilantly guarding the young jackal's side, once found their baby is threatened, will be vicious to jump over and hurt people.

I waited for half a day with my shotgun, but I didn't see the shadow of the mother jackal. But this little jackal smelled the scent of roasted chicken legs, constantly shrugging his nose, how to tongue, a mouth-watering look, look at me, slowly towards the ground chicken legs. This is, I just see, the little guy is thin and bony, belly deflated almost to the spine, fluffy hair stuck to several heaps of tree pulp grass juice, dirty and sloppy. It seemed to be an orphan who had lost his mother.

Maybe the mother jackal was buried in the barren grass trap iron clips, maybe the mother jackal was hanging in the treetops of the trap skyline cover, maybe the hunters hiding behind the rocks will be a hot bullet shattered the head of the mother jackal, maybe the tiger, leopard the mother jackal as a snack devoured ...... what exactly made this young jackal became an orphan, I I do not know.

The chicken leg was stuck with a lot of dirt, so I couldn't eat it. I put away the snatch, tore the chicken leg into shredded meat, and spread it on the palm of my hand. The little one crawled over and looked at me with trusting gratitude, its eyes innocent and clear without a trace of impurities. It first licked the back of my hand with its tongue, then greedily rolled up the shredded meat in my hand and devoured it. For some reason, an unexplained tenderness welled up in me and I suddenly decided to adopt this little jackal.

In taxonomy, jackals and dogs belong to the same family of canines, and local mountain people customarily call jackals dogs. Jackals and dogs are not only similar in shape but also very close in blood. In the past, there were cases in the village where dogs abandoned by their owners ran into the jackals to live. I think, as long as the training is good, it is possible to transform this little jackal into a hunting dog.

I took the little jackal home and began to raise it in the standard way that jackals are raised. I named him Wang Wang, a doggy name; the dog eats cooked food, and I never let him eat raw food to establish his doggy nature; the dog is good at restraining the wild nature of carnivorous beasts and living peacefully with other poultry and livestock, so I let Wang Wang mix with cows, sheep, chickens, and ducks in the yard all day long to wear out his brutal nature as a jackal; the dog likes to sleep under his master's roof, so I built him a kennel at the door of his bedroom. The dog likes to sleep under its owner's roof, so I built a kennel for it at the entrance to the dormitory ...... Woof Woof soon got used to living a standard dog life and even learned to bark like a dog.

Ten months later, Woof became a beautiful, flirtatious female jackal with long, slender limbs, a slender body, a straight spine, a gentle arc from waist to crotch, a golden head, tail, and back coat, a white chest and abdomen-like snow, and black lips and kisses like ink and jade with youthful wetness. He would jump into my arms and lick my cheeks warmly, he would bark or growl like a dog, he would look at the fat hens plowing around him with a calm gaze, and he would yell back at the sheep grazing on the hillside as I instructed, he would go into the dense grass nests and retrieve the turtledoves I shot down, he would squat patiently at the door for two hours while I was doing my chores, making me embarrassed not to take him for a walk in the wild. I am embarrassed to take him for a walk in the field.

I believe from the bottom of my heart that Woof has been trained to be a real hunting dog and that he is no different from a hunting dog in every way except for his tail. The jackal is much thicker and longer than a dog's tail, with fluffy fur that cascades down its spine like a waterfall. Perhaps because the tail is too thick, too long, and too heavy, the jackal can only erect the tail or droop, at most can be like a fall like swinging to the sides, but not like the dog's tail as multi-angle all-round shake the ceiling shake colorful shake out friendly and intimate feelings. The local mountain people identify as a dog or jackal, mainly by the tail. Because of this conspicuous jackal tail, no one in the village acknowledges that Wang Wang has been domesticated by me as a hunting dog. When he walks in, he kicks, smashes with clods, and blasts with a stick. Sometimes when Woof saw a group of children playing hide-and-seek, he excitedly ran over and tried to join in the fun, but before he arrived, the children scattered nervously and shouted: "The big-tailed jackal is coming, the big-tailed jackal is coming!" The less courageous ones fled home and cried to the adults, while the more daring ones climbed into the trees and fired their slingshots at Wang Wang. Once the village held a large-scale festival to the god of the mountain, the whole village men, women, children, and dogs came out in full force. After the worship ceremony, there was a picnic dinner, where a large iron pot was cooked full of sour bamboo beef, first a big bowl for each person, then a big spoonful for each dog. When it was Woof's turn, Iwasong, who was in charge of the spoon, lifted the empty spoon and gave Woof's head a heavy knock, shouting rudely: "Big-tailed jackal, get lost! You're lucky I didn't skin you and pull your tendons and eat your flesh, but you want to share the beef, no way!"

In the dog pack, Woof Woof's situation is even worse. None of the dogs were willing to make friends with him, and although he was charming and flirtatious and still in love, no male dog was attentive to him or showed him affection, even in the heat. All the dogs seemed to hate it, precisely its big fluffy tail.

Once, the dogs found a weasel in the water mill and started a fierce chase. Woof was so enthusiastic about it that he barked and joined the dogs to chase the weasel. When the dogs found Woof, they left the weasel behind and switched targets, turning around to bite Woof's tail. If I hadn't arrived in time, Woof would have become a tailless jackal. Later, Woof-Woof was attacked by the dogs as soon as he stepped outside. I was distressed, and so was Woof, and I didn't know what to do.

That day, I was in the yard guillotining cow straw, the sharp guillotine rhythmically guillotining the long straw into the one-inch long straw. Woof squatted in front of me, staring at the guillotine with rapt attention, and seemed particularly interested in the fact that he could cut off a bunch of straw in one go.

I squeezed the handle of the woodchipper and moved my arm up and down mechanically when suddenly, Wang Wang gave a soft cry of excitement and her eyes glowed as if she had encountered something joyful, I looked around and there was no unusual movement worthy of my attention. The two hands did not stop moving while I was looking around, but were still mechanically guillotining the grass.

Suddenly, the faint light of my eyes saw a flash of something golden, something stuffed into the guillotine. I wanted to stop the guillotine but it was too late. I heard a click and my wrist felt the tremor of the blade cackling against a hard object. Woof's big, fluffy tail fell to the ground, bouncing around in the grass; I let out a yelp of surprise, feeling guilty and distressed that I had hurt my dog by mistake.

I thought that Woof would jump up in pain and growl at me. To my complete surprise, Woof looked at the guillotined tail with no pain or sadness in his eyes, nor any blame or resentment towards me; he had tears in his eyes, but his ears were facing forward and he looked happy. When I picked up the broken tail, it came over and licked my hand tenderly, then took the tail in its mouth and pulled it out of my hand very firmly, and threw it into the garbage in a corner of the yard.

My heart shuddered, I understood, it was to guillotine the tail! He knew that his big, fluffy tail that wouldn't shake was disgusting and the root cause of the dogs chasing him and biting him, so he cut off his tail, determined to be a good dog that people would love.

What a clever animal, my eyes moistened, took it into my arms and combed the hair on its back with trembling hands. He stuck out his tongue and kept adding to my eyelids, well, he even comforted me.

I pounded snow grass, which is used to treat bruises, into a puree and put it on the root of Wang Wang's tail, and half a month later, his wounds healed.

I will never forget the first time Woof went out after he recovered from his injury. He jumped up and down into my arms, his hind limbs erect, his front limbs on the waist of my pants, his tongue half a foot long, desperately trying to add to my face. I touched its forehead and found it shaking badly from excitement. He rightly felt that he had cut off his tail and become a real dog, no longer to be scorned by people, to be chased by dogs. I was also happy for him that he had accepted the challenge of his fate by killing himself. His tail was broken, and although his image was damaged and ugly, his strong belief to reshape himself was very beautiful. I was excited to take it with me to the threshing floor in the middle of the cottage. A group of dogs was fighting for a meat bone, so Woof barked excitedly and leaped into the group to join the game. As soon as he approached the group, the dogs suddenly stopped running and playing as if they had seen a ghost, glaring, baring their teeth, and showing their fierce faces. Woof didn't back down, he turned his body towards the dogs without panic, turned his buttocks towards the dogs, and twisted his crotch hard, woof woof woof barking. He holds his head high and his bark is loud and clear, full of pride and confidence. It is a statement of submission, a declaration of conversion. It is using the language of a dog to tell those dogs who are still hostile to it: please stop looking at me in the same way, look at my butt, that tail that you hate is gone! I am now a real dog, one of your kind, so please stop treating me like an alien!

All the eyes of the group of dogs were gathered on the tail root of the woof, no one barked or moved, like a group of clay sculptures. The leader was the village chief's big black dog named Wulong. After a while, Wulong cautiously approached Wang Wang, shrugged his nose, and sniffed. I watched from the sidelines, I saw the expression on the face of the dragon change rapidly, surprise, confusion, and anger. Suddenly, the dog hair on the neck of the dragon-like a needle upright, woof woof woof a series of growls, which is the same as telling the dogs, it has been identified, the guy in front of it guillotine broken tail, not a dog, is a jackal! In a flash, the dogs woke up as if from a dream, and their eyes shot out a hateful light, snarling and rushing towards my woof.

Woof woof twisted his hips like disco to try to turn the tide, but to no avail. The dogs swarmed him, tearing and biting him, and he was outnumbered, whimpering and fleeing back to my side, barking at me in aggravation. Alas, there was nothing I could do. I managed to disperse the aggressive pack of dogs and took Woof away from the threshing floor and went to the big well at the cottage called Xian Stamping Foot, where I met some hunters slaughtering a freshly caught horse deer at the well, with a lot of yelling and noise from the dogs. He walked towards the hunters, his steps heavy as if he was trekking in the mud, walking with great difficulty, and it was obvious that he was weak in his heart and afraid of further blows; he hesitated and slowly walked up to the group of hunters and called out softly with a sigh, "Woof..." his voice was sad and full of sorrow.

A middle-aged man named Iwasong looked up at the woof and waved his hand impatiently to drive it away: "Get out of here, get out of here, you dog-like thing, I don't feel good when I see you." Woof turned toward the hunters again and flashed his tailless rump out. This time, it was no longer proud and confident, shrinking like a thief; its bark was no longer loud and clear, hoarse as if it had a bad cold; its eyes glistened with tears, and while cocking its buttocks high, its head hung low by its knees and looked backward, with a pleading and begging gaze.

It is begging those hunters can see in it guillotine their tail part, can forgive its origin, can give it a little friendship.

My heart felt like it was stabbed by a needle, a hidden pain.

The hunters all looked up at the woof as if it were a rarity. Swansong had an ambiguous smile on his face, bah, he spat at Wang Wang, scolded: "short-lived jackal, think that people can not recognize your true face without a tail, really a stupid jackal. If you lose your tail, you'll still be a nasty jackal if you lose your skin!"

Swansong scolded as he picked up a piece of rubble and smashed it at Woof, hitting Woof right on the root of his tail. To be fair, the damage to Woof's body was minimal, the dirt was so soft that it didn't even break the skin. But it was often like an electric shock, eyes dazed, frightened, lying on the ground, not moving for half a day.

Suddenly, it tilted its head, "Yo -" towards the blue sky floating white clouds issued a long howl, sounding like a baby crying, creepy. I've had it for almost a year, but it's the first time I've heard it make such a harsh and hoarse cry. It was a genuine jackal howl. I tried to carry it home, but it desperately broke free from my arms and ran like mad out of the cottage and into the wilderness.

I searched for days, but couldn't find Wang Wang. Two months later, a group of vicious jackals attacked the cattle and sheep grazing in the mountains and bit several sheep dogs. Once, this group of daring jackals also broke into the cottage in broad daylight and swept away more than 20 chickens from the Iwasong family. The hunters in the village organized several ambushes, and roundups and whisked away the mountain hunting, but this group of jackals was tricky, always able to escape the hunters. Strangely enough, almost all the poultry and livestock of the families in the village were attacked by the jackals, but my two pigs and a nest of chickens, which were kept outside all day, remained unharmed; and my ramshackle straw house, which was full of holes, was never visited by jackals. One day, the village chief met this group of jackals face to face in the deserted ravine behind the fortress, and he saw the leader of this group of vicious jackals, the jackal without a tail.

After the news spread, every family in the fortress dragged me to dinner, desperately poured me chicken soup, and then made me pee on the fence wall of my master. For half a month, my urine was a big hit, and I became a urination machine, spreading the smell of my urine everywhere. Strangely enough, after this, the jackals never bothered Manguang Langzhai again.