This, children, is the somewhat true story of the night I
encountered the Swedish Deer-Wolf-Pig!
Don’t let the name
fool you. These creatures are fierce.
[Except you, Mom! Please skip down to the part where I’m okay.]
Now, where was I? Oh yes! Once upon a time, on a night
much like this, earlier this very evening in fact, I foolishly took a shortcut
through the woods. The night air was
crisp and inviting as I began to skip merrily down the path toward the tiny,
little castle of Åkeshofs Slott.
I love these woods,
I thought to myself as my tattered shoes rhythmically scuffed the
pavement. The stars are beautiful . . . and
why don’t people skip more often?!
“Full of good intentions,
the little girl made her way through the wood,
but she was soon to forget her
mother's wise words.”
Little Red Riding Hood
Prancing past the castle I lost myself in the whispers of
the forest. There is something quite enchanting
about being alone in the woods. Still
mulling over the idea of being a Princess, I slid to a stop on the gravely
path. Something was rustling in the bushes to my left. Holding my breath, I turned as quietly as I
could. There in the field stood two
beautiful deer.
All three of us began to breath again. Hello, I said as I once again began to skip down the path. Please don’t run away; I won’t hurt you.
I could still taste the words on my lips, I won’t hurt you, when directly behind me a deep, foreboding growl/snort/bark
pierced the night air.
Spinning on my heels I faced the unfriendly woods, timidly
searching for the source of the growl/bark. Why
didn’t I wear my stupid glasses? Maybe then I could see the big bad wolf before it eats
me. Squinting into the darkness I could just make out the swaying tree and
the dark mass that propelled it. What could be making such a God-awful noise?
And WHERE do I go? I glanced at the bench in front of me. Like THAT would offer me any protection from
the . . . from the what?
Another deer? It growled again as I abandoned any hope
of seeking safety on a two foot bench.
A wild boar?
 |
Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she,
'sweet boy, ere this,
But that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the boar. O, be advised! thou know'st not what it is With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore, Whose tushes never sheathed he whetteth still, Like to a mortal butcher bent to kill.
William Shakespeare, “Venus and Adonis”
|
Nej! That can’t be
right. And I doubt it reads Shakespeare!
I cautiously glanced over my shoulder, down the road from whence I came. The woods had gone silent. With one quick
breath I gathered my wits and stepped toward Åkeshofs
Slott and the relative safety of the T-banna. But this brief moment of
resolve was met with a chill down my spine.
The snorting bark was coming closer.
An image of every ferocious, tree-rustling, Sweden-living,
nightmare-inducing animal rushed through my mind:
Get it together, woman! There isn't a puppet in the woods!
With eyes locked on the woods, I began to move in some sort
of half terrified, half courageous grapevine step toward the T-banna. The growling continued to grow as I fumbled
for me phone.
I need an honest
answer. What large, ferocious animal
lives in these woods and makes a horrible growling bark? Because I want to know what it is before I
die.
What? Simon chuckled into the phone.
With a nervous laugh I tried to explain the noise. Although
I could still hear the horrible creature, I was reassured by Simon’s repeated claim
that the woods were free from wild boars, bears, wolves, and trolls.
It’s probably just a
deer, Diane.
Yeah. The ferocious, Swedish Deer-Wolf-Pig!
And that, my
friends, is the only slightly
embellished true story of how I survived my harrowing encounter with the
Swedish Deer-Wolf-Pig.
"We must always keep to the path and never stop.
That way, we
come to no harm!"
Little Red Riding Hood
