Inappropriately disciplined in the past and largely unchecked for years, our Forsythia Dragon had become rather wild and had taken over much of the northern reaches of our land. Armed with half a dozen weapons, we ventured into its territory and began our attempt to tame it.
Just getting near enough to the beast to do anything was a challenge. Thousands of flaming yellow mouths stretched toward us from hundreds of green serpentine necks, whipping wildly at us as we made our approach and began to work. The dragon struggled to crush us with its massive body, but we fended it off bravely. We hacked and cut at the dragon, severing limbs and pulling them free from the tangled monster.
The battle raged until the sun had completed its descent and the blue light of night began to deepen. Gradually the dragon’s ferocity weakened, and by the end of the evening, we had at least partially subdued it. Rather than tame it completely and reduce its strength too much, we chose to leave it somewhat wild this year.
In coming months, I will again travel to the northern reaches and remind the Forsythia of my presence with a mild taming session. At the close of the next spring, we will again attack the dragon with our full force to bring it completely into submission.
(I’m afraid I got carried away in the metaphor. Translation: We pruned our hugely overgrown forsythia bush. If you also have a Forsythia Dragon, see this Deseret Morning News article for guidance on taming it.)
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