Case of the Ostentatious Otters

by Jeffrey M. Poole

  One bushy gray eyebrow was raised, in true Vulcan fashion.

  “Is that so? These two are the crime fighting canines from Pomme Valley?”

  “Guilty as charged,” I admitted.

  “And I am to believe that these two dogs have solved a murder case?”

  “More than that, I’m afraid,” I corrected. “I forget the number of cases, but the number of murders is somewhere around 8.”

  “You forgot Samantha’s case again,” Harry reminded me. “She wasn’t in PV, man, but she still counts.”

  “Right. I guess that’d be 9.”

  “They’ve solved 9 murders?” Officer Lewis repeated, incredulous. “Impossible.”

  I shrugged, “Believe it. Don’t believe it. It doesn’t matter. As for that poor diver? I’m guessing it was just an accident. Maybe he ran out of air, maybe he became tired, or...”

  “...a current could have pulled him under,” Mary suggested, after I trailed off.

  “What are you doing here?” Officer Lewis asked me, after he gave Mary a scowl.

  “Just taking a vacation with some friends,” I answered. “We’re not here to cause any trouble. This is my first visit here, and my girlfriend here wanted to show me around. Harry and Julie over there are close friends, who are traveling with us.”

  ”How long will you be in town?” Officer Lewis wanted to know.

  “A few days. Why?”

  “Don’t go...” Officer Lewis trailed off as a phone began to ring. Fishing his cell from his pocket, Lewis grunted once, and turned away, walking in the opposite direction.

  “Don’t mind him,” Mary told us. “He was supposed to be fishing right now, and seeing how we’re short-handed, he had his PTO canceled.”

  “That isn’t our fault, man,” Harry said, frowning.

  “I think he’s talking to the captain,” Mary said, as she turned to look back at the direction Lewis had wandered off. “I’ll go check on him. Will you guys be staying in this area for a little bit?”

  Jillian nodded, “We will be, yes.”

  At the exact same time Mary wandered off, I watched Jillian suddenly turn to look at the dogs. She was still holding their leashes, and at the moment, both Sherlock and Watson were looking northwest. Curious to see what they were looking at, I rose up on my tip-toes to see over the ridge and out at the water. The problem was, that’s all there was in that direction: water. Stretching endlessly away to the west, all I could see were the gentle lapping of the waves as they crashed into the rocks, which then had the water working its way up as high as it could onto the shore.

  “They want to go that way,” Jillian told me. “Should I let them?”

  I was now dry enough to put my shoes back on, so I nodded and waved her on.

  “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

  Five minutes later, I crested the small ridge and was approaching a bend on the shore. I could clearly hear Jillian and Julie talking together in the distance, as well as see the footprints in the sand, which led in the same direction I was headed. But, as I approached the water’s edge, I could see that they were still a decent distance ahead of me. Both dogs, I could see, were sniffing along the ground and guiding the three of them farther north along the shore. Then, as one, they stopped and turned their heads to look back at me. By the time I caught up, the two ladies were laughing about something, and Harry was sulking. Hopefully, it wasn’t something at his expense, but seeing how Jillian would never shame someone, even if she had reason to, I figured one of the girls must have told a funny story. Hmm. Now that I thought about it, if the funny story was about me, then Jillian would be sharing it with everyone.

  “What’s the matter?” I whispered, as I approached my friend’s side.

  “I just wish I knew what they were laughing at, man,” Harry quietly grumbled.

  “You think they’re laughing about you?” I softly asked.

  “What do you think?” Harry sourly asked. “Of course they are.”

  I angrily grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him off to the side and out of earshot from the girls.

  “Look, pal. I don’t know what’s bugging you. I don’t know why you’re acting so depressed. You’ve got a wife who absolutely loves you. You’ve got two adorable kids, a fantastic house, and a successful business. I should also mention you have immaculate tastes in friends. You have got absolutely nothing to be angry over.” I turned to look at the two women and hooked a thumb in their direction. “And those two? I hereby wager that, if they’re laughing at one of us, it isn’t you, but me.”

  “There’s no way,” Harry insisted. “Julie likes to make fun of me.”

  “If she does, then you need to learn to laugh at yourself,” I advised him. “No one likes being ridiculed, but people love to laugh at those who can take a joke. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve been laughed at. But, back to the girls. You think they’re laughing at you? Bet me. I say I’m the one they’re laughing at.”

  “Fine. What do you want to bet?”

  “Hmm. If I’m right, and I win, then I want you to make a conscious effort to relax. This is a vacation. Have fun.”

  “I guess I can do that.”

  “You didn’t let me finish.”

  Harry sighed, “I knew that was too easy. Fine. What else do you want me to do?”

  “At dinner tonight, you will eat whatever I order for you.”

  “Damn, dude. You drive a hard bargain. Fine. And if I win?”

  I shrugged, “I don’t know. What do you want me to do?”

  “Something as heinous as what you’ll put me through tonight, that’s for sure.”

  I grinned, “I’m waiting, amigo. You must have something in mind. And, I should tell you, all culinary wagers are off the table.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  “Frog legs. I ate frog legs, Harry. Let’s see you top that.”

  “That was pretty wicked,” Harry admitted. A smile finally formed on my friend’s face. “I’ve got it, bro. If I win, then you will volunteer at the clinic. I have some kennels that need to be scrubbed out.”

  My eyebrows shot up. Me? Cleaning dirty dog kennels? Why, that sneaky, two-timing... okay, fair’s fair.

  “You’re on. Hey, Jillian?”

  My girlfriend’s head turned and she gave me a beaming smile, “Yes?”

  “Just now, what were you and Julie laughing about?”

  “Oh, uh, it was nothing.”

  “I need to settle a bet,” I said, as I gave Harry a sideways glance. “There’s a lot riding on this.”

  “I don’t think you want to know, Zachary,” Jillian giggled.

  Oh, man. The nagging little voice in my head suddenly decided that, even if I did win the bet, I was still going to end up losing. Maybe this wasn’t a smart idea after all?

  “You can tell me,” I groaned. “I can take it.”

  I hope.

  “Well, all right. Just remember, you asked for it.”

  “Perhaps I should have just asked if you were telling a story about me,” I mumbled.

  Jillian nodded, “That would have been the smart thing to do. The answer? Yes, of course.”

  I triumphantly turned to Harry, “See? I told you they were talking about me. Hah! Now, I expect you to honor the wager. And I know you know what that means. Besides, we’re gonna have some fun tonight, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Swell. Hey, wait! What was the story? What was so funny?”

  “That’s really not necessary,” I hastily interjected. “It doesn’t need to be told.”

  “It does if you think I’m gonna let you pick out my entree tonight,” Harry argued.

  Julie stared at her husband in amazement, “You’re going to let him pick out your choice of dinner tonight? Dare I ask what he would have had to do should he have lost?”

  “Kennel cleaning,” Harry chuckled. “Okay, Jillian. Spill. What’s the story?”

  Jillian helplessly looked over at me and gave me an apologetic smile,
“Well, this was a story Zachary told me when we were comparing embarrassing stories one night last week. This happened before I met him. It happened on a road trip from Phoenix to Los Angeles, where Zack stopped at a roadside rest area.”

  I felt all the color drain from my face. I suddenly knew what story Jillian had been sharing, and the thought had me cringing. Of all the infernal luck, she had to tell that one?

  “Zachary was wearing a t-shirt and cargo shorts,” Jillian explained, looking at Harry. “The kind with large pockets in the front. Do you know the kind I mean?”

  Harry nodded, “I have several pair. Why is that funny?”

  Jillian’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she noticed the embarrassed look on my face, “Well, the problem came with his belt.”

  “His belt?” Harry repeated, confused. “I don’t get it.”

  “You will,” Julie snickered, as she looked my way and giggled.

  Jillian suddenly pointed at my belt, “Do you see what’s on Zack’s belt right now? I’m talking about that black pouch by his right hip.”

  “Yeah, I see it. What about it?”

  “It’s his multi-tool gadget,” Jillian explained. “He always carries it with him.”

  “Okay. So?”

  I groaned, drawing Harry’s eyes to my own.

  “What am I missing?”

  “It’s heavy, Harry,” I sighed. “If you’re standing in front of a urinal, and you unbuckle your belt, especially for the first time since strapping that thing to your belt, then what’s going to happen when you let go of the belt to, ah, take care of business?”

  Harry’s eyes widened and he started to snicker.

  “That’s right,” I nodded. “My shorts fell to the floor so damn fast it was as though someone had come up behind me and yanked my shorts down. Needless to say, it was a busy day, and the place was packed.”

  Harry let out a loud guffaw and grinned at me. He finally nodded.

  “Okay, man. You win. Just go easy on me.”

  I smiled back at my friend, “Like hell I will. You had better plan on bringing some Tums tonight.”

  Then we heard a series of loud, high-pitched yips. Sherlock and Watson were both pulling on their leashes, anxious to resume moving. I thought I had heard most of the noises the corgis were capable of producing, but the yips both dogs were making now was a new one on me. Was it excitement? Frustration? A combination of both?

  Jillian passed me Sherlock’s leash as I took the lead. Winding our way down a well-used path, we traveled another 300 hundred feet north before coming to a sudden stop. Sherlock yipped once and fell silent. About ready to squat down to see if there was anything wrong with him, such as a thorn in his paw, or perhaps check to be sure his harness wasn’t too tight, I heard an answering sound.

  Just then, a series of chirps, almost bird-like in nature, echoed back at us. Both of the corgis’ ears jumped straight up, and both, I might add, resumed pulling on their leashes, eager to get to… the water. I peered anxiously in that direction, eager to see what was at the water, waiting for them. What I saw drew me up short.

  It was a small group of sea otters, floating together in the water. I remember reading from somewhere that otters tended to hang out together for safety reasons, and that they had a very high metabolism. That meant they spent the majority of their day eating, and when they weren’t eating, then they were primping their fur. Otters had the densest coats of fur on any animal, having nearly a million hairs per square inch. They didn’t rely on fat to keep them warm, but their coats, so at any given moment, you could find an otter cleaning its fur.

  This particular group numbered around two dozen, and all of them, I might add, were staring straight at us. Nearly three-quarters of their numbers were eating, whether it was mussels, crab, or some type of shellfish. Hooked together to keep from floating away, the raft of otters continued to stare at us, as though they were trying to decide if we were dangerous or not.

  Sherlock led me right up to the water’s edge, which placed him nearly 15 feet from the otters. Keeping a tight grip on his leash, I stood, motionless, as I stared at the cute, snuggly-looking bundles of fur staring back at us. Jillian appeared by my side moments later.

  “Oh, they’re so cute!”

  “True, but they’re still wildlife,” I reminded her. “Look at the size of them. They’re bigger than the dogs.”

  Jillian nodded, “Right. No petting. Harry, that goes for you, too.”

  “Why would you think I’d do something like that?” Harry asked.

  I turned to my friend and regarded him in silence for a few moments.

  “What?” PV’s veterinarian demanded. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Now,” I clarified. “However, you can’t say that you didn’t do anything like that in the past.”

  “When have I ever tried to touch wildlife?” Harry wanted to know. He looked at Julie and smiled sheepishly. “Honestly, I don’t know where Zack comes up with this stuff, man. I would never…”

  “Oh, don’t give me that,” I interrupted. “Think back to senior year. Do you remember what we all did for the senior prank?”

  Surprisingly, Harry shook his head, “No, I actually don’t. Whatever it is you think I did, I didn’t do it. I never…”

  “Bear poop.”

  Harry stopped in mid-sentence. He stared at me for a few moments before a huge grin appeared on his face. A shit-eating grin, if you’ll pardon the pun. He suddenly looked at Julie and sobered.

  “Umm, it’s all hearsay. Don’t buy it, Jules.”

  “What did he do, Zachary?” Julie asked, ignoring Harry and turning to me. “What’s this about bear poop?”

  “It has to be some of the nastiest, smelliest, most disgusting poop known to exist. Strange, if you think about all the different animals that are out there, but you need to trust me on this one. The zoo in Phoenix had three polar bears. Every single night, the poop was collected and stored in white 5-gallon buckets, which were placed just outside a certain gate.”

  Jillian wrinkled her nose, “Eww. Why would they do that?”

  “The swing keeper would then come by not long afterwards and collect the buckets, so that it could be disposed of properly.”

  Julie turned to her husband, “You stole a bucket.”

  “I did not!” Harry protested. He pointed at me. “How come you’re not accusing Zack? He’s the one who stole it.”

  Julie crossed her arms over her chest, “He would never do something like that.”

  “That’s true,” I admitted, drawing a scowl from Harry. “Now. But, back then? Yeah, that was me. I stole the poo.”

  Jillian turned to me with a look of surprise written all over her face.

  “Zachary, you didn’t.”

  “We were young and really dumb,” I said, by way of answer.

  “What did you do with the bucket?” Julie asked.

  I looked over at Harry and grinned, “Perhaps you’d like to take it from here, pal. You’re the one who stole the bucket from me.”

  Harry fidgeted uncomfortably, “I, uh, may have left it inside the principal’s office, with the lid removed.”

  “That’s disgusting!” Julie exclaimed.

  “It really was,” I recalled. “But, I heard the lid was left next to the bucket, so that it could be sealed back up. I know, it was a stupid prank. But, in our defense, no one got hurt.”

  The chirping from the water suddenly quieted, which drew all of our attention. Sherlock was still at the water’s edge and was standing, with his front left paw curled under him, as though he was trying to decide whether or not to take another step. What I saw next had me reaching for my phone. Not to call anyone, mind you, but to start recording what was transpiring in front of me.

  One of the young otters had apparently awoken from its nap, spotted Sherlock nearby, and was slowly edging closer. The otter swam up to the water’s edge, eyed Sherlock, and then cooed at him, just like how a dove would. The tri-colored corgi
still hadn’t budged an inch. Sherlock watched the strange creature approach, and when it appeared as though the foreign dog wanted to sniff noses, he edged forward to do just that. The otter, on the other hand, wasn’t too sure what Sherlock was doing, so it curiously leaned forward to get a better look.

  Otter and corgi ended up touching noses.

  Sherlock snorted once, and then pawed at his nose, as though he had just dunked his snout in water. The corgi’s actions had the effect of spurring the otter back to deeper water. Within moments, nearly a dozen of the larger adult otters were within reach. At first, I became worried for Sherlock’s safety, and started to pull him back towards me. Then, I realized the otters weren’t there to fight. They wanted to play!

  Four of them ventured up to us and sat up on their haunches, as if they were trying to make a decision how to proceed. That’s when I noticed Watson had appeared by Sherlock’s side, which meant Jillian was now standing next to me. She had her phone in her hand, too, only I don’t know if it was to take pictures or to call someone.

  “Wild otters can be dangerous,” Jillian said, by way of explanation.

  I watched the otters, who were watching the dogs. They were chittering, chirping, and cooing as they raced up onto the beach, took a step or two out of the water, and then bolted back to the safety of the ocean. Sherlock, recognizing play, dropped his head and playfully yipped.

  The otters chirped back. This playful banter lasted a little over five minutes, until the otters determined it was time for another snack, and drifted away from the shore. Nearly half disappeared beneath the waves, but then reappeared not long afterward, clutching some type of food in their paws. We saw mussels, several were holding small crabs, but the vast majority of them had some type of shellfish.

  Whackwhackwhackwhack.

  “It’s got a righteous beat to it, doesn’t it?” Harry chuckled.

  “They’re breaking open the clams,” I observed. “It looks like they’re carrying around something hard with which to break the shells. That’s what they’re doing: smashing the shells open.”

  “Clever,” Julie added.

  The otter that had touched noses with Sherlock was floating on its back with the others, and was holding a small black mussel in its paws, but it only had eyes for the dogs. It cooed a few times before it, too, began the rhythmic beating which signaled the beginning of its dinner. After a few moments, however, it suddenly dropped the shell it had been holding, bolted upright, and let out a noise that sounded a lot like the word, ‘hah’, only loud and clipped.