Saturday, August 20, 2005
In Memory of Garfield
It was a dark and stormy night. LOL, typical introduction, except that it really was! I had just dropped my youngest off at my sisters, stayed a while for dinner, and was trying to get home before all hail broke loose. Pun intended.
I pull up to my little teensy tiny trailer and I trying to hurry. Not only is it going to pour, but I am in desperate need of the ladies facilities. Even chocolate could not have deterred me from my mad dash to the intended room. I throw my keys and purse on the kitchen table, traverse around the corner (dangerous by day, deadly by way of the night light!) and down the short hall. Panic sets in. Those last few feet seem to take forever (gotta build suspense here). I'm there! I made it! Thanks be to the piddle Gods.
I am just breathing a big sigh of relief when I feel this something run across my feeties. This something is furry and has lots of feeties of its own.
Have you ever wondered how much weight a shower curtain rod can hold? I know that this question has been burning in the minds of many for years. Well, I can tell you from personal experience that it is a LOT. I extricate myself from this rod (I am wrapped around it like one of those clingy toys), rearrange my clothing and go in hunt of my furry friend. I'm thinking Mouse in the House. I am creeping down the hall...and off in the distance (lol, distance being maybe 3 feet?) I see a shadow dart across in to the kitchen. Still creeping here. I don't want to take unfair advantage of my ability to move faster, and frankly, I'm not too interested in getting up close and personal with my new friend.
The kitchen, bathed in nightlight glow, looks even smaller than it is, and it IS small. I am gaining on my furry visitor, when it decides to TURN AROUND AND COME STRAIGHT AT ME! I am now on top of the stove. A fat woman can move and jump very quickly if she needs to, and I am grateful that my appliances like me. The stove is my friend. The stove is my refuge. The stove is not big enough to crouch on, lol. I grab a tupperware container from the dish drainer, conveniently located close to the stove (I TOLD you my kitchen was small!) I drop it on top of the thing that has me trapped. It takes a while, but I slowly back my butt (and the rest of me) off this Harvest Gold monstrosity, and lean down to take a peek at my captive.
Garfield, my daughters gerbil, peeks back up at me! Apparently, someone didn't close his cage tight enough, or he learned how to push it open. Who knows how long he had free reign of the house, but there he was. He couldn't get back UP to his cage, and he heard "Grandma" come in, so he came to visit. Visit me in a place no one else is supposed to BE while you're in there. I get him back in to his cage, move it to the living room where I can guard over it. Not wanting to take any chances, I put a big ole' bag of sunflower seeds on top, giving him chewing time and free access to his favorite treat, but it will take a long time to eat through it, so I figure I've got a few weeks or so.
Here we were. I'm at the computer, glaring at him, and he's in his cage, munching on a sunflower seed, and glaring right back. Impasse. We made a deal. I won't try and chase and squish him anymore, and he won't scare the c**p out of me!