[shamrocks]

I will let my husband share our experience:

It is a terrible shame that many of the readers here are discounting your story. Believe me when I say, I know the terror of which you speak. My wife and I were on vacation in Mexico late last year. It was a cool and pleasant evening as my lady and I eased back into our reclining beach chairs with the alluring white sands of Cabo san Lucus beneath as we were mesmerized by the endless sound of the surf lapping the shore. The way the moonlight danced across the surface of the water it was almost like starring out into an abyss of twinkling stars. God, it was so tranquil. Lake Erie back home had nothing on this. Finding warmth in the gentle breeze, our baby, Noo-noo, was curled up in a little furry ball on my wife’s lap. Noo-noo was a rescue Yorkie that we had picked a few years earlier in Boston. She was pulled from a burning puppy mill by an orphan boy just moments before the licking flames of the blaze consumed her. As I sipped my ice-cold, bright green margarita, my wife leaned over to kiss me. She giggled when the salt from my lips cleaved to hers. Playfully, I said, “Well, you can’t have the salt without the drink.” She smiled so warmly, as she often does, and leaned over to enjoy a sip of my drink. She must have leaned over to far disturbing little Noo-noo because she hopped down from my wife’s lap. “Awe, Noo-noo,” I said lightheartedly, “did mommy ruin your bed?” All three of us enjoyed a generous giggle, but that was swiftly cut short when we heard rustling coming from some nearby foliage that was nestled just a few yards away in the menacing darkness. To this day, the hair stands up on the back of my neck by merely recalling that night by memory. This is the first time I have spoken of it since the incident, but I feel as if I am amongst friends here. The rustling continued, but never confined to one area. Now, at this point our little Noo-noo begins to bark and who could blame her? She only desired to protect her mommy and daddy. She was so brave starring off into the shadowed mystery before us while I was frozen in fear. Noo-noo began to take a few steps forward, her tiny body barely leaving prints in the sand behind her. “Get back here, Noo-noo!” My wife’s yelling seemed almost inaudible to those little pointy ears with long brown hairs cascading from the tips. She was determined. Out of shear concern for Noo-noo, I jumped to my feet, a decision I will regretfully haunt my dream for the rest of my life. Apparently, Noo-noo must have summated that I rose behind her to back her up, you know, to stand our ground. She charged directly toward the vegetation and whatever sinister figure lurked behind the leaves it bore! I screamed for her to stop as she dashed forward, the little pads of her fuzzy feet strew sand into the air in her wake! I heard my wife cry out, “Noo-noo!!” That’s when we saw it! I have heard the blood-curdling tales of the chupacabra but never dreamed I would stare one down on the beaches of Mexico! Without warning, its threatening wail filled the night air! It lunged forward snatching Noo-noo! It stood up right in the luminance of the moon. What a terrifying creature! Its eyes were black as the devil’s soul, deep, intense, cradling the definition of evil to such a degree that it could strike fear in the hearts of even the most strapping of men. Noo-noo thrashed and growled ferociously in the razor-clawed clutches of the chupacabra. It stood before me, its chest heaving and suddenly in a quickened jolt of its wooly arms a YELP, followed by a beastly silence! Again, from behind I hear the agonizing cry bellowing from my wife, “Boo-boo!!!” Boo-boo? I turned to look at her. It seems, my wife, caught up in the romantic evening just moments before, forgot that she was allergic to margarita salt. Her lips were swollen so badly that they looked like Mick Jagger was attacked with a bicycle pump filled with collagen! I began to laugh hysterically until I was struck in the back with Noo-noo’s lifeless body! I spun around and the chupacabra hissed with vengeance. Then it happened… I soiled myself. The pungent smell of man fear repelled the hellish creature back into the night. My wife and I buried our beloved, little Noo-noo on the beach that night, an empty margarita glass taking on the role as a tiny, salty tombstone. RIP Noo-noo