Dear Journal

I was in Stub’s shop, just looking around, minding my own business, when, out of nowhere, this vixen started swearing me up and down! She accused me of stealing from her shop, and I’m pretty sure I hadn’t! I mean, I get around, but you’d think I’d remember ripping off such a prissy bitch!
The other patrons ganged up on me in an instant; there was nothing I could do. My cries of protest fell on deaf ears as the lifted me off my feet and swept me out into the street where still more people joined in.
“I recognize her!” someone cried. “She’s robbed from me before!”
“Me, too!”
“Pretty nice getup for such a scrubby little urchin!”
They began stripping me down, right there in the open! My cloak, the one mom made for me: gone! My tunic, boots, even my socks! They emptied my pockets and were moments away from tearing off my pants when Brush stepped in!
“Whew, hold on there!”
“Step off, wolf! This is no business of yours!”
“Maybe not, but from where I stand, there’s a bunch of grown men tearing the clothes off a young girl. One might think you were up to something… Perverse!”
The group dropped me to the ground and stepped back.
“It weren’t nothing like that! She’s a thief; we’re just taking back what’s ours.”
I smiled sheepishly. It’s true, I am a thief, and Brush knew it. He also knew that I don’t steal property, only food. I get hungry and we’re poor. No one feeds a beggar, so what else can I do?
Most of my clothing is patched up and looks pretty well worn, but I was wearing the new outfit Victor had given me as a welcome home present. It felt nice to dress in something other than rags, but I guess it did look pretty suspicious to the townsfolk.
“Did any of you actually see her take those things from your shops?”
“I caught her stealing apples!”
“Yeah, I’ve seen her pinching bread!”
Brush shook his head.
“I see no fruit or grain here. Her cloths far out value your losses.”
“That’s only what she had when we caught her. What about all the times she got away with it? She’s a thief, that’s all there is to it!”
“I see… Yes, a thief must be punished …”
The mob looked at the wolf and than to each other before all at once hefting me back into the air and whisking me off to the edge of town. A tall pole stood upright, firmly anchored in the ground. They bound me to it so that I stood with my hands above my head and stepped back to admire their handiwork.
“Now we’ll just leave her here for a few hours!”
“Those fire ants’ll teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget!”
I looked down and noticed for the first time a small mound of dirt just beside my foot paws. I struggled against the ropes and managed to get one paw free, but Brush stepped in to stop me!
“Now, now, where do you think you’re going?”
He stooped down and began tickling my foot, rubbing his fingers up and down my soles and in-between my toes! I laughed and tried to pull away, but it was no use…
Finally, he let go and I stood breathless wondering what he’d done that for. He untied my ankles, but rather than letting me go, he lifted my other foot and started tickling me again!
The crowd had pretty much dispersed, but a few had lingered on. Some were enjoying the sight of me squirming against the poll, but others just wanted to be sure Brush wouldn’t let me free.
After a short time, he let my foot go and proceeded to tie my legs against the pole, tighter than before. He winked at me and strode off, leaving me to contend with the biting insects.
Sweat rolled down my brow as I saw the ants emerge from their hole. They swarmed about, this way and that, but seemed to be keeping a wide birth from my feet.
“Do they smell?” I thought “Are my feet too stinky for even ants?”
I sniffed the air and detected the faint sent of lemon. Brush hadn’t just been tickling me; he’d been spreading lemon juice all over my paws! Ants hate the acidic oils in citrus, so he’d spared me the torture they’d intended for me by subjecting me to some of his own!

A story I wrote as part of a collaboration with my friend  CaseyDecker