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Archive for December, 2012

My sister and I were talking over Christmas, about old friends and odd events with old friends and/or odd events with odd friends.   It reminded us of this story.  When I was in high school, we used to go swimming at the river.  It wasn’t the Red River in name, but in deed.  It was a funny, muddy red color and we wore cut-off Levi shorts and white t-shirts to swim in.  When you’d get out your shirt would be red and so would the light spots in your Levis.  I mention this, so you’ll know, the visibility of the water was bad.  Several times while swimming, I would feel something nudge me hard and I even got tugs on my tennis shoes, with little red marks on my feet, once the shoes were off. I would look over in the water, and swear I saw eyes watching me, near partially sumerged logs.  I used to tell my friends that it was an alligator.  Of course, I’m the girl who saw the spagetti-headed monster and the werewolf, so my firends took this knowlege with a grain of salt, and basically ignored my warnings.  I quit swimming in the river and switched to the pond, which was marshy and farther to walk, but no alligator, if you know what I mean.  Well, about eight years later, my sister and I were talking about swimming at the pond and I asked why they never wenr to the river?  She said, “Are you kidding….what about the alligator there.”  See, I’m redeemed.  I might have a wild imagination, but an alligator is an alligator, anyway you look at it.

Post note:  People at that time were buying pet alligators (a pet alligator-yeah, I know…what a pet right.  One that bites the hand that feeds you).  Of course, these were babies at the time.  And babies are cute, even ones with big teeth.  However, the problem arises when they outgrow the fish tank or bathtub, or wherever alligator people keep their green, mean little pets.  Then the owners, not wanting to kill their pets, would dump then in sewers or rivers or lakes.  I assume the owners never thought about the continued growing alligator in its new home and all the swimmers and fishermen in the area.  Of course, I can see their viewpoint on the sewers, who care if a few rats go missing.

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