popplers

Sick Puppy

Just finished reading Carl Hiaasen's Sick Puppy, a strange little fable set in present-day Florida. Dirty politics, back-door dealings, rhino horns, litterbugs, Labradors and more…

Palmer Stoat was feeling better. He rubbed a hand across the rhino's bristly plated hide and said, "What a magnificent creature."
Durgess thought: If only I had ten bucks for every time I've heard that line.
Stoat produced two thick cigars and offered one to his faithful guide. "Cohibas," Stoat said, "the genuine article." Theatrically he fired up.
Durgess declined. He grimaced at the acrid comingling of fumes, stogie and rhino piss.
Stoat said, "Tell me something, little bwana."
Oh blow me, Durgess almost said.
"How old you figure this animal to be?"
"I ain't too sure."
Stoat said, "She looks to be in her prime."
"Yeah, she does," said Durgess, thinking: Blind, tame, fat and half-senile— a regular killing machine, all right.