The hunt

Sally and Trixie refused to come in for dinner. Even their favourite biscuit dangled in front of them did not elicit the expected response. In fact it did not even draw a look from the two canines in the direction of their snack, as they moved around the compound. I say moved, as they were not running playfully as they usually did. It appeared like they were in stealth mode as they creeped around. They were surely agitated, frowns lining both their canine foreheads, their muscles taut under their golden fur. They stopped only to sniff loudly, before resuming their…stalking. It seemed like they were tracking or chasing something. But what?
What was their primal hunting instinct leading them to?
A cockroach, frog, a mouse or…? A trickle of unease sped through me. I hoped it was not a snake they were after. An insect, amphibian or mice they have hunted before…(and have even displayed some remorse later). But then I had never seen them so caught-up with a chase. Except for the occasional sniffing or the rustle of leaves as they padded their way through the bushes and vines, they were utterly quiet. As if they had taken an oath of silence. They knocked on the door late at night to be let in and reluctantly walked in their eyes still darting around, seeking their prey that probably lurked in the darkness.
They leaped out, resuming their quest, the moment the door opened in the morning.
It was a couple of hours later, the mystery being they had been after, was finally revealed as we stepped out. There it lay, enormous, wild and hairy and utterly still. The largest bandicoot I have ever seen.
And the two classic indie hounds having completed their hunt, lolled around soaking up the sun.

P.S: A little later Trixie sneaked away with a fresh, juicy and crisp carrot and began munching on it, the hunt and prey…all forgotten.

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