All Summer long.  Well into Fall.  Everytime I started the lawnmower.  I feared it would be its last hurrah.  It was ill.  Each mow was a blessing.

Amazingly, it kept going.  Mow, after mow.  It always started.  Eventually.  Pull, after agonizing pull.  It always started.  Eventually.

Today, was the mower’s last run of the season.  It only needed to make it through one more day, then a long Winter’s rest.

I pulled.  Nothing.  I pulled again.  Nothing.  Again.  And again.  And again.  Forty times or so.  I was not going to give up.  We were so close to the finish line.

Then, a faint chug.  Followed by another slightly stronger chug.  Then, twenty or so more pulls and we were in action.

Mowing like the good ol’ days.  Soon, a child had a question.  We were so close to the finish, but I needed to help my boy.  I dared not kill the engine.  It might never return.  Time for a “Subtle Savage” solution.

I pulled off my belt.  Fastened it tight around the controls.  Luckily, my pants held tight, as well.  I helped my boy.  The mower didn’t know better.  My pants remained high.  The mower finished its run.  The Winterization was complete.

Using one’s belt to save the day.  That’s savage.  Subtle savage.