Hunters

Isn’t it great that a hunter doesn’t have to negotiate with the prey? Imagine proposals going between hunter and prey, offers being rejected, and counter-offers being made.

“An arm and a leg”
“An arm and a leg and your meaty behind”
“There’s no other prey around, I’m the meatiest in your range, take it or leave it”.

Instead, you corner the prey and it’s yours. No mind games, just winning or losing. Now imagine two hunters. Easier to spot a prey and quicker results! Assuming of course both hunters prefer the same kind of meat. And that brings me to the beginning of today’s rant.

We are house-hunting. And that is a great word for it, because the stalking, spotting, chasing and pinning down which is the natural process of procuring a house is akin to actually hunting for prey. And the hunters here prefer very different kinds of meat. In fact, one is a vegetarian and gets preoccupied with fruit picking every time they are hot on a chase, much to the annoyance of the other. One had been raised in a city, and is hence crazy for wide spaces with big trees, while the other actually grew up surrounded in acres of tree-filled gardens and in some senses might have had enough of it. One hunts for project-potential. His eyes glint at the prospect of tearing down the kill and preparing a dish that is all his, very noble thought but time-taking and slightly risky. His fingers itch to line up all his tools and toys and get to work on every part of the prey, an endeavor that might well take more than a couple of years, that will require unrelenting dedication and patience. The vegetarian looks for a quick, nicely prepared green salad with the parmesan already sprinkled on top and a silver spoon on a napkin on the side. She will be able to have her salad right after buying it. All crisp and fresh it will be! In all fairness, she is not very concerned about where the greens came from, whether it will be a good crop every year, whether future crops will get the support they need, whether it will be a well watered field and least of all whether the drainage is public or private. She accepts that these are important, but they don’t govern her every waking moment.

But they set out hunting together every weekend and sometimes during the week too. Sniffing around. They have a referee with them, who gets a portion of the kill when we are done with this chase. But the referee is not my friend - as I am reminded every so often by my fellow hunter. Along with a warning to never fall in love with the prey. All is lost if that happens he says, we don’t want the prey strutting around knowing your heart beats for it. But I am afraid he did not pay heed to his own warning. And I think the man is in love, though he protests and denies. So I am just glad that he usually falls for something only for the good reasons. We will hopefully get lucky and have some great meat, with the salad as a side too. Ah, that would make a good meal and I sure have built up an appetite for it. But for now, we continue to cross our fingers and sniff the air.