Poor Muppett

"Sit down" she said, "tell me everything...".

It was 2.00am on a Sunday morning, so it was good of Jane to come around and help me settle down after the night's events. She's a good friend.

I took another sip of my tea, wiped away a few slow-moving tears and began....

It was dark, about 10.30. I'd just put the garbage out when I heard a noise at the side of the house. I though't I'd better take a look as I knew Sam's bedroom window was open and we've had some rather inquisitve possums hanging around lately.

At first I couldn't see anything and thought I must have imagined it. Just as I was about to walk away, I heard a vigorourous rustling in the garden mulch. As my eyes were beginning to adjust, I saw definite movement down by the gate.

Before I could respond, I heard a deep gutteral noise, accompanied by a short yelp and a series of crunches. A chill went up my spine and I ran inside.

I checked on Sam and he was sleeping soundly, thank goodness, so I armed myself with a torch, replaced my slippers with some sneakers and went back out.

As I rounded the corner I saw it. It had moved from the gate up closer to the house.

Living out here in the bush, we're used to lizards of course, but this was something else. By far biggest I'd ever seen in our yard.

It's eyes were ablaze, it's movements erratic, it's claws boodied and its savaged prize firmly between its teeth.

Poor Muppet, he was such a good dog. I just dread having to tell Sam in the morning.

I gratefully accepted Jane's comfort, as a final tear rolled down my cheek.