Tall Tail

Tall Tail

How can you retrain a beaver?

“I told you I’m not going in there. It’s dark and it smells bad.” Gerald stood on his back feet rubbing his nose with his furry paws. “It’s different when it’s the home you dug with your own claws. All beavers don’t have the strict countenance I do. Have you even seen Phil lately?”

“He was at the dam yesterday. He looked upset with something but didn’t want to talk about it there,” said Harold. “I told him we would come by this morning before work. Can you just try getting along this time? He is your brother-in-law after all.”

“I know but he doesn’t come to any of the family get-togethers and he and Ginger live on the other side of the road from us. I guess I should be grateful I can go anywhere I want for work and they have to stay near Bear Creek for their livelihood.”

Gerald shook his head like he was frustrated with this whole scene but finally gave in to Harold’s request. “I’m staying as near the door as possible so don’t shove me around in there.”

“Knock, knock! Hey Phil, you in?” shouted Harold through the opening near the hollowed-out tree.

“Come on in,” said Phil with a raspy voice. “Was it busy on the highway? I hate crossing that death trap in the early morning. Did you hear that Fred got his tail run over trying it a couple of years ago. That’s where he got his nickname “Flapjack Fred”.

Harold and Gerald slid in nose first into the spacious living room of Phil’s. A couple of wooden chairs and a straw filled bean bag faced each other and the round table in the middle of the room. The place was lit by Phil’s skylight opening. “Glad I found that screen door in the dump yard near Kenny’s place. It was always dark down here until I drilled that hole on top and laid the screen over it. Doesn’t much help with the rain but it does smell better than usual.”

Gerald didn’t quite agree but said nothing. “Where’s Ginger? Already gone to the mill?”

“Your sister took an early shift this past month and leaves at 6:00 a.m. Of course, that means I have to make my own breakfast. You ever try pealing those carrots without all your teeth?”

“You need to see Doc Twig. He can make you some of those hardwood replacements,” Harold offered. “Now, what’s the secret you couldn’t share yesterday and why were you so blue?”

Phil leaned over the table and took a magazine from the stack of mail piled high. “Just look at that and you’ll know why I wasn’t able to talk at the dam. It says there’s this human that’s the ruler or king or some kind of big wig and he’s getting rid of our jobs once and for all. I knew we were getting too lazy and taking too many short cuts. I’ve been warning the management about the lack of supplies and, of course, you know how dry it’s been this season. I am truly worried about our economy. And now this comes along, and I don’t know what to do.”

As Harold and Gerald skimmed through the pages, they came upon an article and a drawing of a new way to stop water from flowing down stream that was so shocking, they both started to sob. “This is truly the end of us. Why would anyone do this to us. What are we going to do now?”, said Gerald looking back and forth toward the others.

“Wait a minute,” Harold says. “How can you be sure that’s what this fellow’s planning to do with this thing?”

Phil looked at both of them and pointed to the headline. “Because it says right here, Hoover’s Dam!”