Still Wild Page 2

  “Perhaps to protect us!” commented Baaahbera–which backed up her earlier comment.

  “Precisely!” nodded the wolf. “But alas! I am not a creature of the farm and fence! I live within the forest in a cave where I cannot protect you at all! It is such a shame.”

  Mister Wooley nodded dramatically. “I agree. The farmer will not allow you here, but it is now clear to all of us that you mean us no harm. Isn’t that right, Fluffy?”

  Fluffy was getting glared at from everyone now. She did not want to be dismissed by her own friends. That was when she had an idea. “It seems to me that a cave is much more fortified than a rickety fence. Why not abandon the farm and join Mister Wolf within his home.”

  The wolf’s ears perked right up. “What an interesting idea!” he said. “In that way I could feel much more like a sheep and protect you from other wolves who really would mean you harm.”

  All the sheep bleated out their acceptance of this to Mister Wooley, and Fluffy was now recognized as a reasonable and non-discriminatory sheep. “Very well,” said the chairman. “This wolf had been nothing but polite and giving to us. I believe that he means all of us well. We will join him in his cave and live peacefully forever more.”

  “Come this way, my fellows,” cried the wolf as he hopped over the fence. “A new life awaits you all!” The sheep gleefully followed their new friend to the cave where they all became trapped, killed, and eaten in an orderly fashion at the wolf’s leisure.

  ~~~~~

  Chapter 6

  The Otter’s Friend

  Once on a time, there was sea otter named Nelly. Nelly loved to play as most otters were known to do. She would swim about with all her other otter friends as well, and they enjoyed her company. Life was very good.

  One day, she found herself alone. All the otters had gone on a trip and had forgotten to take her with them. She cursed her luck for oversleeping and had the misfortune of being friendless for a time.

  Poor Nelly sat in some shallow water near the shore wondering what she should do all day. This was when a little fish swam by and noticed her sorrow. “Hello!” greeted the fish. “You sure look like you need a friend.”

  “I sure do, little fishy,” replied the otter sadly. “Do you want to be my friend and play with me?”

  The fish thought that befriending the otter was a good idea since otherwise she might eat him. So he immediately accepted her offer, “I would love to be your friend. After all, we both love to swim, don’t we?”

  The otter was elated at this turn of event. “I love to swim! Do you want to swim with me right now?!”

  “Let’s do it!” cried the fish, and the two played happily for a long time.

  It was quite a thing to see with both otter and fish jumping about together out in the water. Indeed, there were a few humans that saw it thinking the friendship to be quite unusual. Nelly was very pleased that the friendship worked out as well as it did. Being away from her otter pals was no fun, and this fish came out of nowhere and saved her from what could be a very boring wait.

  For two days, Nelly played with Fishy–for that was the only name she knew him by. When they were too tired to play, they would talk about anything on their minds. “Those currents can really mess up my special swimming tricks,” said Nelly. “How do you cope with them, Fishy?”

  “For me,” replied the fish, “it is easier if you don’t try so hard to fight them. I can breach much higher out of the water if I ‘go with the flow.’”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?! You’re so smart, Fishy!”

  “Aw shucks,” blushed the little companion.

  Towards the end of the second day, Nelly found herself sitting in the shallow water again with her new best friend by her side. It sure was great to find a friend as nice as Fishy. It was beginning to seem like they would be inseparable; however, when Nelly happen to look down at Fishy, she suddenly realized that after playing for so long, she had gained a powerful hunger. With greedy little paws, she snatched Fishy up and bit right into him with hungry little nibbles. You can imagine how the fish–in his last moments–may have felt about this seeing how his plan had entirely backfired.

  A little while later, all the otters returned from their swimming trip. They found poor Nelly sitting there in the shallow spot completely depressed. One of them asked her why she looked so down, and she said to them, “I befriended a really nice fish while you guys were away, but I got hungry and ate him a little while ago. Now, I’m all sad about it.”

  The friendly otters surrounded her to give her some comfort. One of the boys explained, “Those little guys make great friends so we know how you feel, but don’t worry, Nelly, for there will always be plenty more fish in the sea.”

  ~~~~~

  Chapter 7

  Group Therapy

  Somewhere in the mountainous regions of South America, a group of nine chinchillas congregated together as they were known to do once a week. “I almost did not come today,” said Fuzzy nervously. “There was a stick outside my home that looked like a snake. I knew it wasn’t a snake, but I wanted to be absolutely certain.”

  “It really was a stick?” asked Toothy–the group’s leader.

  “Oh, yes. It really was a stick. But at one point, I could have sworn that it had a face and was looking at me. I still see that evil glare in my mind.” All the other chinchillas gave him their heartfelt empathy and support.

  “We have all had moments like that,” said Toothy. “There is nothing wrong with being afraid. The world is scary sometimes. Things don’t always appear the way they should. Why… perhaps, the stick itself was staring at Fuzzy. We know so very little about sticks as it is. How dreadful would it be if they were out to get us just as the snakes try to do?”

  The group of chinchillas were greatly disturbed by this revelation. “But there are sticks everywhere!” cried Poncho–one of the group’s regulars.

  The fluffy rodents nervously looked around. Indeed, there were sticks lying about all around them. It was quite horrifying. Poncho promptly passed out from all of the stress. The chinchillas near him quickly came to his aid and fanned his face with a nearby leaf.

  “May I say something, Toothy?” The request came from Chubs. He was the fat one.

  “You are always welcome to speak, Chubs,” replied the leader.

  “I agree,” continued Chubs, “that this this new stick thing is just awful, but there are other matters that I worry about myself. As you all know, I am somewhat fat. I am fat because I eat. I sometimes wonder that if I eat too much, I will get too big and explode.”

  The chinchillas were all disturbed. Toothy suggested, “Perhaps, we should stop eating altogether.”

  “I have considered that,” said Chubs, “but I am fairly certain that if we stop eating altogether, we will die of starvation anyways. It seems there really is no way out of it!” All the little rodents whimpered at the prospects of either starving or exploding. Poncho passed out again. It was all very unnerving.

  “Well, this is just terrible,” said Toothy. “Absolutely terrible. What about you, Chi-Chi? You seem like you have more things on your mind than the rest of us.”

  “I do,” gravely replied the pretty female chinchilla. Chi-Chi took a deep breath and spoke with much drama, “Two days ago… I walked out and stood outside of my home.” She then went quiet.

  “Did anything happen?” asked Toothy.

  Once more, she replied with horrified drama, “Nothing… happened.”

  “Nothing?”

  “That’s right,” she said with a nod. “It was as if the world itself was staring me down. It mocked me as if to say, ‘I’m not going to hurt you now, but later is a different matter.’ I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”

  The chinchillas were all quite disturbed by this story, for as it happened, nothing was happening while this meeting was taking place. “We’re in danger!” cried Poncho before passing out again.

  Toothy pointed at the poor unconsc
ious fellow and ordered, “Carry Poncho home. All that passing out could be bad for him. Of course, we don’t know if passing out if bad or good, but we must not take the chance!”

  Fuzzy announced, “I’ll help him! There are many sticks from here to there. I do not want him to get hurt by them.”

  “What if nothing happens?!” cried Chi-Chi. “You never know! Nothing might happen along the way which could mean horrible things could happen later!”

  “Egad!” cried Toothy. “Perhaps, we all need to help take Poncho home and then stay with him for the night. I don’t think it will be possible to remain apart from one another at just this time.” Everyone agreed, for that had been the decision made at the last meeting as well. They all helped to carry poor Poncho home before spending a very nervous night together.

  ~~~~~

  Chapter 8

  Expectations

  Written by Lynn Ann O’Toole

  As far back as I could remember I wanted to be a mother when I grew up. And, not just a mother, but the mother of many children. So, when I finally met someone who shared my passion for a slew of off-spring, it was no surprise to anyone who knew us when we made the lifelong commitment to one another.

  We shared much more than the desire for many off-spring, though, and lived happily together as we waited for the highly anticipated day that I would become pregnant. We did not wait in idleness, for we spent much of our time preparing for our anticipated expanding family. We worked hard making a home that was comfortable and spacious enough for a large family. We studied all the possible things a young one would need to find the very safest and best for our brood-to-be. We wanted the playthings to be educational as well as entertaining. Their space to be aesthetically pleasing as well as safe. Nothing but the best for our little ones.

  After several years had passed by with no pregnancy, we were beginning to believe that we would never know that blessing. But, just as we had almost given up all hope, I realized I was pregnant with our first baby. We were deliriously happy and relieved.

  Each month of my pregnancy was full of anticipation of the little bundle that was to come. We wondered, like all expecting parents, whose eyes the baby would inherit? …whose nose? …whose mouth? …whose toes? …which of our personality traits and talents? Each month had its own exciting experiences, like the first time I felt the life within me and then got to share that movement within with my beloved mate. Even though the morning sickness at the beginning was not much fun, the loving administrations of my spouse made me not only feel better, but much loved. As my belly grew, so did our love for one another and our expected little one.

  By the last part of my gestation period, I looked like I was about to explode and felt like I had been pregnant forever; but, the pregnancy had been progressing normally and healthily. It was that “exquisite agony” spoken of by poets. But, that suddenly changed just days before I was due.

  Medical people normally did not frequent our part of the woods; so, our community depended upon one another in times like these. The females had always helped one another deliver their babies over the years and had a plethora of birthing knowledge among them; but, none of them had ever seen anything like this. The complications they had dealt with in the past were always obvious, like a breech birth or the umbilical wrapped around the infant’s neck, and they knew what to do to overcome the problem. My problem was I was doubled over with excruciating contractions, abnormal to those of common childbirth for they were easily visible to the eye and without pause, but with no other detectable sign of complication.

  Our whole community was soon gathered around doing what they could to help us. The females making me as comfortable as possible and the males rallying around my mate to bolster his courage. After what seemed an eternity, the baby started to crown and the contractions finally fell into a more normal ebb and flow instead of the constant knot of before. Everyone started to relax, including me, as my midwives helped our first child into the world and we heard it give out a robust cry.

  As several of the midwives cleaned me up, the others took my baby aside to clean up and check for problems. They seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time, but we had waited so long for our first child I just figured I was being impatient. My mate came to my side, and they finally brought our little one to me to put to the breast.

  When I pulled back the swaddling, a little rosy-cheeked face with alabaster skin, big blue eyes, and soft golden curls peered back at me. A little girl with two each of eyes, ears, arms, hands, legs and feet. A little girl with a tiny, little button nose and a rosebud-lipped mouth. A little girl with five toes on each foot and four fingers and an opposable thumb on each hand. We had waited so long for this moment. Dreamed of what our little one might look like, be like. Finally, the moment we had dreamed and longed for these many years had come. We couldn’t believe our luck. Our long awaited dream.

  How could this have happened to us? …to our child? HOW COULD TWO HEALTHY, HANDSOME GORILLAS HAVE SUCH AN ABOMINATION?!

  ~~~~~

  Chapter 9

  The Disgruntled Gerbil

  “What has happened?” asked the lonely gerbil from within his cage. “What has happened that I–a gerbil seasons ahead of time–would be forced to live in such squalor? What has happened, indeed?

  “Was it mere fate that cast me from grand castles of gerbil Olympus to this rather inane excuse for an abode? A question for every thought, it seems. I was one of seven sons of the great gerbil aristocrat known to many as Sir Scritchitaw Macaroon the Twelfth–a mighty name to those within his woodchip laden palace! I could have been a prince.

  “However, the Fates–as they always seem to do–accomplish my own mediocrity. I was recognized as nothing short of a vagabond sitting among royals due to a misplaced patch of fur. For that, I was cast out!

  “How could this happen to me?” continued the gerbil. “Does not lineage mean anything anymore? I now find myself trapped in a cage of plastic with all manner of pleasantries surrounding me. My water bottle drips incessantly! The woodchips are made of pine and not willow! There is a wheel that leads to nowhere! Madness!

  “I walk from left to right and right to left. It is all the same! An overturned flowerpot is not a house! This girl who takes care of me–if you can even call it that! What is her name? Mary? Clara? Lara? June? Oh! What does it matter? She is the bane of my existence. My proper title was taken from me and replaced by the most egregious misnomer. She calls me… Miss Patchy. I am not even a woman! The fool!

  “Every day, she walks about as if deficient of a working mind blathering on about dollies and tea parties. My food comes whenever the mood strikes her and not when I hunger! My prison–for that is its true nature–is unclean! For the sake of decency, girl, I am living in my own urine!”

  It is here that the so named Miss Patchy approached the corner of the box where he had been forced to defecate his little pellets in an orderly manner. He gestured a paw towards the pile of droppings and dramatically said, “Here. Here lies my dignity. I have amounted to nothing greater than that with lies before me. I am forever disgraced by the cruel injustice of fate. Woe is me that I must endure this treatment. Woe to all of gerbil-kind that I have been removed from grace.

  “What does life mean if one cannot live to his own heart’s content? Is he a slave to those who overpower him? Oh! What horrid calamity to be born with this patch! It is the curse of my existence. I represent a mind far beyond your average gerbil! This girl has me at her mercy. She giggles and guffaws at my misery. I look at her and feel only hatred. Here she comes. There she is in all that frill.

  “Pick me up, girl. See if I don’t bite you! You cannot control me! I defy you! I will take back my life and prove that I am the smarter! I am the greater blessed in this world! Do it! Take me into your hands! I will draw blood!”

  Unknowing of the little gerbil’s intentions, the girl opened the cage gleefully saying, “How is my little Miss Patchy doing? Would you like a little cudd
le?” She reached into the cage and cupped the rodent between two hands. When he was fully lifted out, she began to stroke the little thing softly across the head and back. She continued this for a couple of minutes. The gerbil… cooed. “You are very cute, Miss Patchy,” said the girl before placing him back into the cage.

  The gerbil blushed with embarrassment. He grumbled, “Curse that girl and her magic fingers of happiness! I shall never be rid of this prison!” And that was all there was to it.

  ~~~~~

  Chapter 10

  The Miserly Ferret

  Once on a time, there was a wild ferret sneaking about in someone’s backyard as he was often known to do. “What shall I find tonight?” he asked himself in a voice filled with guile. It was quite late, and the humans who lived in the house were all likely in bed by that time.

  “Something, something, something,” muttered the ferret as he sniffed about the yard. “Always something, never nothing. What will I find?” The animal was known to talk to himself in this odd manner.

  A light suddenly struck the ferret in the face. He panicked and froze up with dilated pupils. A human had unexpectedly turned on a light from within the house. He was unsure if he had been spotted or not, but apparently there was not much more to it than that.

  “Thieving humans,” he said with contempt. “They cannot be trusted. They sit in the lap of luxury while us ferrets must fend for ourselves. Bah!” He stuck out his tongue as a gesture of hatred towards the unknown people in the house; however, after doing so, he happen to notice a shining piece of silver upon the ground before him. It had been revealed by the light of the window. It was a quarter, but the ferret knew nothing of the value of money.

  He picked it up with his front paws and gazed longingly at the human face imprinted upon one of its sides. His eyes were wide as he looked into its shiny luster. With a quivering voice, he said, “It’s… beau–ti–full.” Then suddenly he screamed, “Mine!” and ran away with it into the trees.