The apex predator (that’s me) waited. It was the easiest part of the job. Just lie there in the swamp and wait for dinner to show up. It’s like a buffet on wings- and fins. What do I feel like tonight? I’m sorry for animals that actually have to go hunt down dinner every night. For the small number of us at the top of the food chain, dinner comes to you. Ideally.

It’s like seniority in the workplace. The longer you’ve survived out here, the more respect you accrue and, thus, the more people cater to you. Until they can hire two newbies for the price of your annual salary. Then the well-earned respect goes out the window, and so do you. I bet human ancestors thought that once they crawled out of the swamps and built a civilization, they could escape the daily battle of wits that is survival of the fittest. But no such luck. I guess, no matter who -or what- you are, you have to struggle every day to make it to the next.

I spent the day thinking it was like every other day. Well, as much as my ancient reptilian brain can think of one day versus another. I was lounging in the sun. Sometimes my jaws were open- when it got too hot and I needed to cool down via thermoregulation. Sometimes I would dip below the water and only a practiced eye could pick my eyes and snout out of the water amid the cattails.

After a few hours of such lounging, I started to get hungry. Well, it could have been boredom, actually, but the pea-sized brain would not allow for pondering such as that, so I went with hungry. Either way, it was time to eat.

The next big decision was what to have for dinner. Wood stork? Too stringy. Ibis is always a good option. Keep that open and watch for glossy ibis, they taste better than the pink ones. There’s always that nasty aftertaste whenever you eat anything pink or red- so much of the coloring goes into it, it leaves a terrible taste on the palette. A snake would be good, but not a venomous one. Maybe a brown snake? Common Moorhen? Ohh- A purple gallineau? Those are always so tasty. Those shimmery purple feathers just add something to the flavor. I can’t explain it.

What I’d really like is puppy dog, but those are hard to come by. That’s more of a special occasion meal and not something to count on being readily available. Too bad though, I’d eat them by the boatload if only I could find them in bulk somewhere. It’s probably for the best. I’m sure they’d go right to my tail. I’m a little self conscious about the size of my tail.

Time to head for the feeding grounds to make a final selection.



The apex predator waited. Waited for things to seem familiar. You would think my natural habitat would seem more natural to me. It doesn’t, it seems foreign. It even sounds like all of the birds are talking with funny accents. The plants are similar to what I’d expect, but different. I used to know exactly what plant housed what kind of dinner, but now I’m not sure what to expect. Just rest a moment, and maybe it’ll come back to me. Or, maybe I can make sense of things.

The cacophony of the great outdoors was coming back to me. The funny-sounding bird calls everywhere, the splashing of the water and the smell of plenty. That smell I remember. Well, it’s a little different, but the point is the same. Dinner is here and I just have to figure out what I want. Not knowing the language and local customs puts me at a disadvantage. I don’t know what they eat here, nor how they do it. I don’t want to display my ignorance of the local customs by making an ass of myself.

I will keep my eyes open and see what I can learn. Sooner than later, I will have to bite the bullet. Well, hopefully not a bullet, hopefully a nice juicy morsel or thirty. One nice big morsel would work, but that’s probably too much to hope for. I guess I’ll start smelling to see what I can whip up. And following my nose. Which is difficult, being I don’t technically have a nose. I guess I’ll just follow my sense of smell. That should do it.

Oooh … look at that. That looks like an all you can eat buffet. I haven’t eaten for a few months, so I hope that my eyes aren’t bigger than my stomach. No, I can do it. That would really hit the spot, eventually. I wonder what it’s called. It doesn’t look like anything I’ve swallowed before, but you have to try new foods when you travel. Even if I didn’t ask to travel from my homeland in Africa to a big glass box in some idiot’s garage for a few years and then on to this place, I may as well make the most of it. And make the most of that, whatever it is.

I snuck up behind it. I am stealthy and haven’t lost my touch, and the pea-brain had no idea that it was in trouble until it was too late. By then, I was already wrapped around it, starting to squeeze the breath out of it. Hey! Are those jaws? It’s biting me. It clamped those massive jaws down on my coils and it won’t let go. There’s a fair amount of pressure being exerted here and I do not like this at all. When I squeeze harder, the jaws clamp tighter and my flesh starts to rip open. I suspect this will be a very short lesson- for both of us.

Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and sometimes you both sink.

Copyright 2007 Antigone Lett. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.