THE SKINNER AND THE ELEPHANT was published in Danse Macabre.

The man roared with laughter. “I like you, Red,” he said and strapped the fox to the operating table. He shaved the animal’s forearm and punched the port through a vein. “I think I’ll make a pair of slippers for myself in your honor,” he said and started the intravenous drip.

The fox struggled momentarily before slackening on the cold aluminum.

The Skinner worked quickly, scraping the lustrous fur from the fascia. He looked down at the naked fox, raw and glistening beneath the overhead lights, and took a deep breath before sewing its body up into a skunk skin from the cooler. On his way home from work, the Skinner tossed the animal in a hollow where it had a good chance of healing from its wounds beneath a tangle of barberry.