Did This MeMaw Have a Death Wish?
Tragic! One attains the ripe—and evidently still quite mobile—age of 85, enjoying a retirement existence in sunny Florida, able to relish the peacefulness of a stroll with your little dog … near a murky pond … and then … MEMAW IS ON THE MENU!
Alligators existing in retention ponds and canals and even intracoastal waterways have been idle yet ominous parts of the wildlife scenery since I was a child. You don’t swim in such waters. You don’t walk near them, even—especially with tempting, yappy little morsels of fur and flesh on leashes.
This is a truth that should be, above all things, part of Hardcore Southern Old Lady Knowledge 101.
Maybe the poor woman got caught up in the loveliness of the day and the water seemed serene and entirely free of prehistorical dinosaur-sized butchery-beasts. Maybe she was distracted by the dog pulling on the leash to approach the water more closely, sensing something lurking beneath the surface that Old Lady Radar was incapable of detecting. Dogs, especially little yippy yappy ones, will indeed rush toward anything of interest, even if that something is capable of swallowing them in one gulp like a shrieking Beggin’ Strip.
Whatever the case, this woman’s family must be devastated. She ought to have passed peacefully in her sleep, not in terror as part of a reptile’s country club luncheon beneath brackish waters.
People, if you travel to Florida, do NOT dawdle around the edge of anything containing non-salted H20. And hug your MeMaw while she’s still around. You never know when something might leap out of the swamps and drag her to a harrowing doom among the lily pads or swoop out of the sky and carry her off to a nest to feed a bunch of greedy chicks.
Memaws are delicate when they get old. Keep an eye on ‘em if you love ‘em.
(And spare a thought for poor Henry the alligator—he was only doing what his kind do when the opportunity presents itself. And seeing as “Henry” had been living long enough in that same pond to have earned a cute and even beloved local nickname, a person has to presume that MeMaw knew the risks. Whatever the case, her Guardian Angel needs to have his wings clipped.)
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Where have you gone? (Alligator belly? Sheesh!)
I see it as a statement of truth in Florida,where there is precious little truth being explored..
In fact,the lesson here is–Florida is not a fit place in any way for decent people these days.
The governor is a snarling brute,there are long fat monstrous snakes from Thailand,which will wrap themselves around a skinny geriatric appendage and squeeze.Tight.
Then there are the huge prehistoric creatures which come up out of canals,etc.and put an end to whatever Senior complaining might be going on.Lights out for all!
Really,though,I would be much more afraid of the governor!