SEASON'S GREETINGS

"Merry Christmas, Al" says I. "Would you care to join us for a drink?" "Oh, I better not have any alcohol." warns Al. "I'm on valium right now." "Sorry to hear that." says I. "Won't you come in and sit down though." Al's an oil rigger and works with my niece's husband at Occidental Petroleum, and was a surprise guest at their Christmas dinner. As he took his seat, we all leaned forward to hear Al's tale as to why he was on valium.

"Well," says Al, once the pleasantries were over with, "Fred and I went duck hunting last weekend, you know, like we usually do. But when we got to the pond it was froze over. The ducks were flying overhead but there was no way they were going to land on the ice. Fred remembered that he had a stick of dynamite in the trunk of his Cherokee, and gets the bright idea of using it to blow a hole in the ice. So he goes down to the edge of the pond, lights it and throws it out into the middle, where it lands just perfect, and then he starts running back up to me to get away from the explosion. Well, just as he reaches me, we look back to see Shep, my black retriever, going after the stick of dynamite.

We can't believe it. We watch the damn dog go skidding across the ice, up to the dynamite, pick it up in his mouth, do a 180, and with his tail wagging away head back to us. He's a good retriever, you know, and'll bring back anything you throw him. Well, Fred yells at me 'Shoot him. Shoot the dog before he gets to us.' 'But it's Shep!' says I. 'Fuck it.' says Fred. 'Shoot him!' So I shoot my own damn dog just as he gets off the ice. But I only got bird shot in the shotgun and I don't kill him, which is good, but I do scare the shit out of him, which is bad, because he now runs and hides under Fred's Cherokee.

So I keep shooting at him to get him out from under the car, but Fred yells at me, 'You're putting holes in my goddamn car!' and starts crawling on his hands and knees trying to coax Shep out from under the car. But Shep is scared of getting shot at again and won't come out. Now Fred's hopping around throwing sticks everywhere, but the dog won't budge. Just then the dynamite goes off. And the car explodes, which must have released the braking system and the Cherokee, or what's left of it, starts rolling down the hill. By the time it hits the pond its going pretty fast, and the ice is strong enough to hold it. But when it hits the middle where the dynamite was, the ice finally cracks and we watch Fred's brand new 4X4 sink into the pond. All that's left of Shep is a red splotch in the snow where the explosion took place. Not knowing what else to do, we head back to the highway on foot."

But an RCMP officer who must have heard the explosion comes down to investigate and picks us up and asks us where our car is. We tell him its in the pond. So he drives us back there, and says you can't dump your car in a pond in Alberta cuz it is against the law. And he fines us a 1000 dollars which is the cost of having a crane come out and take it out of the middle of the pond. As he's writing out the citation, we look up to see a flock of ducks land on the water where the Cherokee had broken through. Fred's so mad he gets out his shotgun and starts shooting at the ducks, but the mountie says, 'I think you boys have had enough fun for one day,' and steers us back into his pick-up and brings us home. I ask him to drop me and Fred off at the doctors, because my nerves are starting to go. Of course, when he leaves he rolls down his window and yells 'Merry Christmas.' And Fred and I can't think of anything better to do than yell back 'And Happy New Year to you officer.' Just as if nothin' had happened. So. Anyway, that's how come I'm on valium."

© Bruce Gray 1998