Before Soca was known across land and sea for her voracious hunting drive and hypnotic agility, before even Soca knew these characteristics were endowed to her at birth, she was more curious about other creatures than she was eager to kill them. So too were creatures less eager to escape from her, as they were to befriend her. A kind of general confusion of instincts thus seemed to color most of Soca’s early interspecies interactions.

Soca, face-to-face with another creature, would, it seemed, vaguely remember that she once had some kind of family… Maybe brothers, sisters, cousins, or even parents? Animals that looked like her. Sure there might have been some nasty and aggressive ones, but there were also nice and caring ones. And who knows what happened to them? Maybe they too ended up in suburban NJ? Maybe I (says Soca) belong with them? Who is this guy I pull on a string after all? Maybe the time has come to ditch this human freak. Why is he so obsessed with me anyway?… So thought Soca, in her puppy days, when she came face-to-face with a pack of deer. Maybe these are them, she thought. And look at how they look at me. They recognize me. Otherwise they’d run at the site of my fearsome fangs, cutthroat claws, and singular speed. They must be the other potcake dogs back in Turks and Caicos! We did all end up in NJ. How we’ve changed! They’ve gotten quite tall…

And the deer, in turn, think maybe our bambi has been found at last! This two-legged driver of killing machines has found her and kidnapped her. She was so small then, at the crossing of the Highway, and we thought we’d lost her for good, but she still seems to recognize us… Unless…

And so Soca looks at the deer. The deer look at Soca. Soca freezes. The deer approach. Soca jolts. The deer back off. Soca freezes. The deer approach. And so on. Full of heavy, intense, and emotional staring. 

At this early stage of Soca and deer relations, we thought it would be very cute indeed if Soca become Dog-Friend of the Deer. But it was not meant to be. Soca soon learned that the thrill of chasing deer was like nothing else in this world. Deer soon came to inspire in her nothing other than pure undiluted murderous intent. And soon enough Soca came to know the exhilaration of a victorious kill. Indeed, Soca, heavenly warrior queen, single handedly brought down a deer. I was not there. My sister was and she cried in mourning for the innocent animal that lay, slowly and painfully dying, beside the frothing mouth of that majestic hound. She says it was very sad. I was not there but I’d like to think that I’d have cried too, both out of sadness for the deer and out of pride for Soca. I think it would have been a perfect paradox of emotions.