Here is my piece for Tiapos Writing Group last night ~
FAT FRANK VS. THE TINY GIRL
Back in January of this year I wrote about the mouse in the kitchen at the
SPCA where I prepare food for the dogs every Monday morning. I made a
concerted effort to change my thinking and to become more accepting of
all of gods’ creatures. It was embarrassing to jump and squeal and prove
that I was a product of conditioning and of my narrow middle class upbringing
in Pasadena,California. Home of the Rose Parade.
But I would complain to the staff and they would smile and say that only
last week one of the volunteers took two of the mice home. They pointed
out the “humane” traps and I pointed out the mouse droppings. Then Frank
would come out and stare at me when we were alone together.
“If we don’t kill it, we name it.”
“Why can’t we do both?”
“We are a no-kill facility.”
“His name is Frank and he now has a family.”
So every Monday morning I turn on the lights in the kitchen and prepare
to face Frank and his kin. I try not to look at the floor, I avoid listening for
skittering sounds. One morning I actually heard little squeaks, and not from
me. My screams are loud and contain basic curse words.
Last Monday Anna the Opener bounced into the kitchen as I was starting to
open dog food cans. The door was already ajar and the lights were turned on
when I arrived.
“Did Tiny do her job?”
“Who is Tiny?”
“Tiny Cat. She spent the night in here.”
I looked around. NO mouse droppings. No more do-nothing humane traps and
best of all, no Frank for the entire morning. Later I saw the cat box and the
sign warning people that Tiny Cat was locked in the kitchen all night and beware
when opening the door.
We can depend on nature and god knows the SPCA has lots of feline inventory
in case Tiny Cat goes to her forever home. Her resume is looking great.
