Deer of North Rodeo was at war with Coyote of South Rodeo. While it was a battle over control of the Headlands, it was more a war of ideology. Deer sought a new way of life, in which her kind were not preyed on by Coyote, a life in which all beings had food but no beings were food. On the other hand, Coyote wanted to defend his dominance over the Headlands, and subsequently the food chain. For him, it was not complicated. Deer was food, not friend.
The war had entangled everything that lived and breathed within the confines of the bush and brush of the Headlands. However, almost every being, whether it was Otter or Skunk, Raccoon or Lizard, had joined Deer in her fight for a new way, while Coyote was backed only by Hawk who came from the far away Mount Tamalpais.
Deer had numbers on her side, but lacked control of the sky. Hawk bombarded Lizard and his kind, dive bombing their rock perches and dirt caves. Not even the scent bombs of Skunk could deter Hawk, who seemed to be immune from their lethality. Nowhere and no one was safe. And while Hawk attacked from above, Coyote was tasked with hounding the earth, killing everything in sight. Deer had numbers on her side, but was losing them fast.
Before the war, Coyote killed when he was hungry, when he yearned for the sweet flesh of Deer upon hearing the solemn calls of his empty stomach. However, Deer was hard to catch. She required a team, a dedicated hunt. For that reason, Coyote would often have to settle for the stinky meat of Skunk or the stringy meat of Bobcat. But once Deer began her campaign against the reign of Coyote, no longer was killing a matter of food, it was a matter of power. Coyote was alone in this fight, cornered by every one of his former comrades. He had no choice but to do whatever it took to defend himself.
Everything changed when Hawk descended from Mount Tamalpais. No one had ever seen Hawk before the day he came to the aid of Coyote, but it was clear that from then on he was there to stay. Hawk changed the entire course of the war through his airborne tactics. Every being was caught off guard, proven ill-prepared for such precise attacks. But Deer was formidable, and was far from giving up. She knew Coyote, after all, their two kinds had been at odds since the beginning of time. However, Deer knew nothing of Hawk. She knew nothing of what he was capable of.
Coyote, despite being avoided at all costs by those he typically pursued, which included most beings, had a friend. This friend, who was faster than Coyote and therefore impossible to catch, was Hare. Long ago, the ancestors of Coyote and Hare decided that it was futile to fight with one another, for Coyote was unable to match the incredible speed and agility of Hare while Hare was unable to outdo the sheer strength of Coyote. For this reason, the ancestors of Coyote and Hare became friends. However, the Coyote and Hare of the present had a special relationship. They grew up playing with another, building realms of their own with stones and sticks, realms whose stories spawned from the depths of their imaginations. Tales of lands under the control of mythical beasts, Dolphin, Rhino and Gorilla, as well as stories of the time before this one, when Human roamed the planet, building lifeless structures of stone whose remnants he left behind to crumble on the bluffs and cliffs not far from where Coyote and Hare grew up.
As time went by, these realms of play began to lose their allure, the stories had gotten stale, imaginations run dry. Coyote and Hare had come to find amusement in other things, such as chasing their female counterparts throughout the night, from the bonfires on Muir Beach hosted by Skunk to the raging parties thrown every so often by Raccoon in the abandoned bunkers.
But not everything revolved around chasing females. Coyote and Hare enjoyed their time together, sliding down ancient stairs on salvaged boards, swimming in forbidden pools, drinking their troubles away to the point of losing themselves in tall grass, or getting high and going on nightlong benders involving cliffs and caves. They danced around fires of their own. They made strange gestures and faces. They sang. They fought. They sat in awkward silence. They scared one another from the bushes. Once they even found fire rockets in an old house and watched as their explosions dazzled like the stars in the sky after they launched them from a cliff in a foolish effort to tease Ocean.
Ocean was not like Coyote or Hare, or even Deer. Ocean was all-powerful. She was wise and unchanging, old as the time before this one and the time before that one. Every being knew it spelled certain death to enter her waters, from North or South Rodeo, or from any beach. According to the ancestors, Ocean decided to drown anything and everything that submerged themselves in her after losing all of her sea children to Human, who she wiped from the face of the Earth as a result. Her waves, who crashed against the cliffs of the Headlands day and night, who confined its existence to the small spit of land that it was, were a constant reminder of this extraordinary power, an indication that she was watching at all times, and could, at any moment, do to every being what she did to Human.
Time and time ago, Ocean had bred Deer and her kind and Coyote and his kind from the sands of North and South Rodeo. It was for that reason, she disapproved of the war between them. Every being knew this from the way her waves grew ever more nasty and protestful as they bit away at the shore with an added ferocity, from the way her tides grew stronger and would wash away, for prolonged periods of time, their respective beaches, making fighting all the more difficult and deadly. But the battle between Deer and Coyote continued, up in the Headlands’ hills and down in its valleys.
Neither Deer nor Coyote anticipated the kind of violence that would follow the arrival of Hawk. Deer, after all, was successful in uniting every being against the dominance of Coyote, who was forced to fight what became a mere struggle of survival. But upon the arrival of Hawk, the violence changed. It was ruthless and impersonal. There was infighting. Raccoon started feuding with Otter over control of the Rodeo Lagoon because Hawk had made his other water sources inaccessible. Skunk grew skeptical of Deer and her cause, and retreated his kind back into their burroughs. Lizard was losing so many of his kind every day that they were all forced to give up their tails in an effort to distract Hawk in his daily dive bombings.
While, at first, Coyote welcomed the help of Hawk, he came to realize that Hawk was not there to support him in his effort to preserve his way of life, but rather, to craft a new world order, one that involved the subjugation of all the living beings under him and the extermination of those unwilling to conform to his demands. Coyote had been fooled, but it was too late. And just like that, Coyote became Dog.
Dog followed orders from Hawk, when to sit, when to speak, when to eat, and when to sleep. Dog had to keep his hair short, clean and brushed. Dog had to stop using drugs and drinking alcohol. Dog was no longer a leader of his kind, but rather one of thousands called Dog. To Hawk, Dog was not an ally but a number, a nameless asset in his quest to conquer the Headlands.
Hare had managed to avoid the conflict Deer and Coyote were involved in from the very beginning. He did not wish to fight. He understood his friend’s need to fight, to defend himself and his way of life, but still preferred to remain on the sidelines. However, when Hare saw what Hawk had done to Coyote, he could no longer do nothing.
Coyote would always come back from a hard day of battle only to tell Hare how much he wished it would all just come to an end, how much he wished he no longer had to spend his days ducking from the scent bombs of Skunk or losing hair and blood from the booby traps of Lizard. Coyote was tired and Hare encouraged him to give in. “War achieves nothing.” he would say to him time and time again.
But when Hawk turned Coyote, Hare could no longer recognize his friend. Dog did not come back from battle to visit him, but rather, Dog went straight home and slept, only to return to the killing fields in the morning. Coyote would never do such a thing. Hare missed their daylong adventures and their nightlong benders, for never during the war with Deer did Coyote forget his best friend, not even when the prospects were at their worst, the days at their grimest. There was always time for a sunset, a joint, or a bonfire.
For that reason, Hare decided to approach Dog, to see if he still was Coyote under his cut and cured hair. He caught him on his way home one evening and called out to him, “Cai!”, which was what Hare liked to call his best friend. But Dog continued on his path, as if entranced, as if he could no longer hear his friend. Hare tried again but received no response. He was not going to give up this easy. Hare quickly caught up with Dog and blocked his way forward. Dog stared down at Hare with a look Hare did not recognize, one that was clouded and bleak, devoid of emotion, devoid of anything. Dog then continued around Hare, in complete disregard of his calls to talk to him, to say something, to say anything. “Did their years of friendship mean nothing? What was happening?” Hare thought to himself. It appeared Coyote, at least the Coyote he knew all of his life, was gone just like that, lost in his own self, unaware of who he really was and who he really cared about. Hare could only think of one more way he could bring Coyote back. He would confront Hawk.
Seeing that the once united forces of Deer were now scattered and fragmented, that Coyote and his kind were no longer competition but rather loyal and mindless soldiers of his, Hawk returned to Mount Tamalpais to rest.
Morning, which since the arrival of Hawk began not with the sunrise but with his airborne attacks, was eerily silent. And after a few days, it was back to its bustling self, full of birds chirping and bees buzzing, water churning out from the hills and poppies opening up from a night of slumber.
But it was not the same. Deer and Lizard, Otter and Raccoon, Skunk and even Hare wondered what had become of Hawk. When would he return? What was he planning? It all was very strange. Dog and his kind were nowhere to be found.
Nevertheless, Hare was determined to face Hawk, even if that meant climbing Mount Tamalpais, something no being from the Headlands had ever dreamed of doing. The mountain was so tall it tore through the clouds, its summit completely out of sight. Some even believed that it did not have a summit, that it did not end.
But Hare knew that somewhere up there he would find Hawk, somewhere up there he would find the Coyote he knew, the Coyote he missed. Hare was doing this for his friend. He ducked under manzanita after manzanita, lost bundles of fur to thorny trees he had never encountered before, developed rashes from the poison oak that came at every turn, all as he trudged up the mountain as fast he could.
Just as Hare was scouring Mount Tamalpais for him, Dog was searching the Headlands for Hare. He would do so at night, so as to not reveal himself to Deer or her remaining allies. He was still Dog, but had managed to escape the rest of his kind as they followed Hawk to Mount Tamalpais. He missed his friend and was eager to find him, no matter the cost.
He searched for Hare every night for weeks, checking up on each one of their favorite spots, the bunkers, the ridge, the beaches, the cliff. He even went to his house. Many times. But no where could he find Hare.
As he was prowling the beach of South Rodeo for what felt like the hundredth time, Dog stopped. “How much longer could this go on?” He asked himself. Dog was tired, so he sat down on the beach, dug his heels into the cold sand and waited, eyes towards the water.
With each day that went by, another rib seemed to emerge from the resting body of Dog. In his search for his friend, he had not eaten food in weeks, for his hunger for Hare, the one being his ancestors decided was not for eating, was greater. His mind began to degrade, as if every stomach growl fed on its contents. His desire to think evaporated like the sea foam that was encroaching ever so closely on him, yet his memories with Hare continued to flash before his eyes, clear as the morning sky he awoke to every day. The time they were high around a bunker fire and swore they saw a ghost. The time they traversed the cliff and almost died. The countless times Hare would have to beat him to wake up, just so they could seize the daylight provided to them and maximize its potential for an adventure.
Just as the streams of tears from his eyes were starting to seal them shut, Ocean spoke to Dog. “He is here. Hare is here.” She said. Dog perked up the best he could, turning and turning his head to look around, yet seeing nothing. He was so thin and fragile not even Deer or Lizard or anyone was keen on killing him despite him being so out in the open, so vulnerable and exposed, for in this state, Dog was no longer a threat.
“Where is he?” Dog asked Ocean, he was frail but adamant in his desperation. Ocean responded by doing something Dog only knew from the ancient stories of Human, she opened her waters wide and revealed what Dog sought so dearly. It was Hare, his body in a lifeless ball that lay on the seafloor wrapped tightly in kelp. “He is here. Hare is here.” She repeated to Dog. Dog was now on his feet, something he had not done in weeks. “How could you?!” Dog screamed. “Oh, but it was not me, dear. It was Hawk who brought him like this to me.” Ocean responded calmly. “But why?” Dog barked back, his words stung with sadness, burned with anger. “Hawk pays a hefty price to keep his victims.” Ocean responded, maintaining her calm demeanor. “I am doing this for my children.” “But I am your child! Hare and I, we are your children!” Dog was still on his feet, legs shaking with rage. “Then come to me, my child. Come back to your mother.”
What is a Dog, you ask? A being that without thinking twice, ran, with every last ounce of life he had in him, into her open waters, the endearing reaches of Ocean. A being that forgot about his war with Deer, the need for food, the power Hawk gave him, for none of that did mattered to him anymore. An evolved being, for he was once Coyote but now was Dog, and while he knew nothing was ever going to change that, that too did not matter. Now it was time to be with his friend. Now it was time to be with his mother. That is a Dog.
"This is a story about transformation and change. We see Coyote transform into Dog, against his will, much like the inevitable nature of growing up. This is also a story that pays homage to my childhood and my teenage years growing up in Marin. While the plot is driven by the war between Deer and Coyote in which Hawk also gets involved, that is actually more of a sub-narrative, one intended to be somewhat of an allegory for the Vietnam War (Deer of “North Rodeo” fighting for a “new way of life”) and manifested in a struggle for one’s place in the food chain, which I hope was contemplated for the many metaphors that it could represent. I chose the Vietnam War because it was a war of ideology but it was also a war that was considered a failure and a loss when looked at from the perspective of the US, much like the war we as teenagers fight against growing up is in the end an inevitable failure, a loss. After all, growing up, and to a greater degree life, is a series of losses, and we see that in the story, the loss of Coyote and Hare’s playful imagination, the loss of their innocence and then the ultimate loss of their lives as a result of the war and the involvement of the authoritarian that was Hawk. But what is never lost is their friendship and the amazing bond that they shared, which is something I have had the opportunity to form throughout my years as a kid and a teenager. In many ways, this story is a celebration of the power of such a bond."
Max Sarosi
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