(Bear in mind that I really did go to Alabama, and the story that I tell is one hundred percent true)

(June 27, 2011)

After an exhilarating jour of screwing around on the beaches of Fort Morgan, Alabama, we were all dog tired.
Scar, Kate, and I retreated from the rapidly chilling ocean breeze into the warmth and safety of our rented beachfront property.
Scar and Kate lounged around on the canapé while I prepared dinner; steak for the loups and a supreme pizza for moi. The succulent meaty aroma of steaks mixing with the dough and toppings on the pizza made all of our mouths water.

Once the nourriture had been served, I turned on a playlist of soft background musique and we all settled down on the canapé to dine. I'd cut up Kate and Scar's steak so they wouldn't have to rip it apart and make a mess.
We chatted about aléatoire shit, including the food, the weather, and Jon. No one a dit anything bad.

Then, out of the blue, Scar a dit she had a story. Kate and I were instantly interested. Scar's stories were always great and rich in details.

*Scar's story*

She sat upright and wriggled her haunches, settling in to tell it.
"What story are toi telling?" I asked.
Kate listened with laserlike attention.
"It'll be obvious in a few," she teased.
"One day, one warm, sunny jour in Jasper, I was walking around the lake. I had just been swimming and my fur, which was longer than it is now-," she said, winking at me. I smiled. "-was still soaking wet.
"I had just curled up suivant to a big old rock so that my fourrure could dry."
I knew what story it was.
"I put my head on my paws and had just closed my eyes for a little nap when I heard a stick snap. The only things in Jasper big enough to do that are foxes, wolves, caribou, bears, and deer, so I knew that it was either something that I could kill, something that I could scare away, ou something that I would have to run away from. I stood up, real quiet, ya know, and took a peak around the rock.
"Sure enough, something was there, but it wasn't a ours ou a renard ou anything, no... Instead, it was a human! A human... With a gun."
Kate gasped.
"As if it knew I was watching," Scar continued, "it froze. Then looked towards the rock. I hid my head and froze, breathing real fast. I could hear my cœur, coeur pounding in my ears.
"I heard a light metallic-sounding click. I knew what it meant. He had cocked his gun.
"My body tensed up, preparing to either run like the wind and hope he missed, ou lunge at him and hope he would be too surprised to shoot me before I hit him. I decided to lunge.
"His footsteps told my experienced ears that he was going around the the left side of the rock. I went the other way, silently, trying to get the jump on him. I was five yards behind him when he froze. I frantically lunged, going for the arm with the gun.
"He was too fast. His right hand came up, grabbed a fistful of my fur, and dragged me to the ground. The holey end of the gun jammed deep into my neck and I stared up at him. I stared deep into his eyes, which were a rich chocolat brown. Framed par hair of the same hue, coupled to the shape of his face, I instantly liked him.
"He looked me in the eyes and I felt him freeze. "'Scar?' he asked, stunned. I froze.
"'Scar, is that you?'
"'Yeah,' I said.
"'Holy shit, toi can talk,' he said, getting off me in a hurry.
"I sat up and looked at him, wary of any sudden tricks."
"'Scar?' he asked.
"'Yeah?'"
"'How are toi here?'
"I told him the story and he seemed like he believed it. He didn't mutter under his breath ou anything, so I knew he did. We talked for a while about a whole bunch of stuff, then he a dit later and left.
"I sat there for several hours, just thinking about him. And toi know who that human was?" Scar asked.
"Who was he?" Kate asked.
I sighed.
Scar pointed her paw at me. Kate followed the line of sight and looked at me.
"Oh duh!" she said, facepawing herself.
Scar and I laughed.
"Okay, okay, my turn," Kate said, wagging her tail.

*Kate's story*

"Okay, my story's about the first time I met Humphrey," she a dit intriguingly. Ever since I had known her and Humphrey, I had been wondering how they met.
"Oh, how exciting!" Scar exclaimed.
Scar and I curled up suivant to each other to listen to Kate's story.

"Humphrey and I didn't meet until he was 4 weeks old and I was 5. Ever since the first time I saw him, I thought he was the biggest dork I've ever met.
"What happened was; my dad, Winston, my mom, Eve, and me and Lilly were all in our den. The parents had caught a caribou and we were sitting down to eat.
"Then Hutch came in and a dit that he had found an abandoned pup. Naturally, I heard the word "pup" and I was like 'I wanna see him! I wanna see him!"
Scar and I laughed, imagining Kate with her little voice squeaking.
"So I followed my dad out to see this little pup. He was the most forlorn, sad, depressed little pup I had ever seen. He was so small! The instant he saw Winston, he whimpered and rolled on his back.
"My dad asked his name and it took him almost a whole minute to say it. I finally jumped in and said, 'Dad, you're scaring him!'
"He saw me and it's like he was suddenly a different wolf. It was a little disconcerting, actually. He got up, walked past my dad, who was completely stunned, and sat down in front of me.
"He a dit salut and I was so shocked at his sudden attitude shift that I couldn't say anything.
"Fortunately, dad intervened and picked him up and told me to go back into the den.
"All that night, the only thing I could see when I closed my eyes were his bright blue eyes and the way they were perfectly framed par that mane of silverish-gray hair. The end."
We all awwed at the mental picture of Humphrey as a little pup fawning over Kate.

*My story*

"My childhood wasn't the greatest," I began. "My mother was one of the most abusive, sadistic people I've ever had the misfortune to know.
"I lived with her until I was 6 years old, and during that time, I was so miserable that it wasn't believable. I'd go to lit without dîner six nights out of the week. I spent plus time closeted in her room than I did at preschool and the room I shared with my half brother combined.
"Sure, I got in trouble at school. Sure, I had problems during that period of my life that most of us don't. But it's absolutely abhorrent that she would do this to me the way she did.
"One of the worst nights I can recall was the night that she escalated to the highest level she would get to, and she stayed at this level until my dad took me from her.
"That night, July 27th, 1987, was the night. The night that she turned from a simple neglectful parent to an abusive one.
"That afternoon, when she picked me up from preschool, she was in a worse mood than usual. That's saying something.
"In the car, she was drunk. I remember once when she was driving down the wrong side of the road. Fortunately for me, she didn't hit anything.
"When we got home, it got worse. She started throwing shit across the room at me, including a book and plus than one bière bottle. She was a smoker too, and she wound up throwing her fully loaded ashtray at me. She'd just put one out before she threw it and that one hit me in the chest. I started bawling from how much it hurt.
"She just sat there and laughed. Then she paused, as if she had an idea. She must have, because she lit another cigarette, but instead of smoking it, she came over and stabbed me in the chest with the lit end. The shock, the surprise, the absolute outrage at this just stunned me.
"There were nights similar to that. But the crazy thing is that it happened plus than once in a night! Sometimes three times within an hour! Good lord, if I met that woman now, I'd probably remove her head for what she did to me."
Scar and Kate were staring at me, jaws open. They couldn't believe it.
"What a horrible woman!" Scar seethed. Her fourrure was bristling with potent rage.
Kate's hackles were raised, as if my mother was in the room with us at the moment.
That night, Scar and I made l’amour with a tenderness that surprised, yet delighted me. She know knew what the scars on my chest were.