From the air, one would see lush foliage and a few narrow paths following the ridges of the gently rounded mountains

Redstripe’s Dubious Arrival

(From Redstripe and Other Dachshund Tales)

From the air, one would see lush foliage and a few narrow paths following the ridges of the gently rounded mountains. A few steel roofs marred the sight, rusting in the moist air and baking in the relentless sun. From above, the oppressive humidity could not be felt there in the interior of the island. Nor could one hear the constant buzzing of insects nor smell the fecundity of the tropical jungle.

On the ground, a visitor would see the smaller huts, roofed with woven thatch that made up the sleeping quarters of the children. These were wooden-floored and were raised off of the jungle floor. The resulting space created an abode underneath for various chickens and pigs that dwelled in the relatively cool and shaded soil.

Several goats wander about and the chickens owned the place.

The old Chevy wheezed into the small group of huts and dwellings that Basi, Cirtron and the girls called home. Their approach had been heard from a long way off and all of the relatives were at hand and waiting in anxious anticipation. Not a whole lot happened there, up in the Jamaican Mountains. Cirtron was the prodigal son and his returns from his travels always held the promise of tales of mischief.

Amongst shouts and waves and cheers and squawking chickens and squealing pigs, the old Chevy let loose a hissing cloud of steam from its old and devastated radiator. The car rolled to a dusty stop. An inquisitive pig snuffled around the side of the car. Cirtron had arrived back home.

Redstripe woke up.

The crowd that had rushed the car stopped upon seeing Redstripe in the back seat. They were stone still. They had never seen a dachshund and had no idea what they were looking at there in the laps of the yawning little girls.

Someone pointed and asked, "Waht be dis?" and peered into the back seat with a worried look. Someone else, alarmed, said "de baby rat? Cirtron! Waht be you de bring ‘ta here, mon?"

Another, "Ahh, y’find de pig, de baby pig! "

"No, mon! Never see de pig like so, mon! Too much hair!"

"Cirtron, mon. Ayie! WAHD BE DIS?"

Cirtron, cool as always, said, "No problem, mon. She be Redstripe, she be a dachs-----"

But it was too late. Redstripe smelled PIG! And she leaped from the laps of the little girls, clambered out the open window and tumbled to the ground, feet scrambling for purchase in the dust as soon as she landed. The little girls burst from the doors, the snuffling pig, now alarmed, took off and the chase was on.

It was Redstripe in the lead, second only to the pig, paws a blur and ears flapping. Her tongue blew back out of the side of her jaws from the wind caused by her speed. Next was Cirtron. Then came the little girls who were followed by the shouting crowd. The men ran and waved and the women held up their long skirts as they chased after the dog and girls and Cirtron. Basi stayed and leaned on the car. He was way too smart for this nonsense. Not so for the pig.

The pig had never seen anything like this!

And it didn't like it. Not one bit.

Redstripe had arrived.