The Great Gerbal Escape

-
My high school was having a rodent raffle. Gerbils to be exact. My friend and I decided to buy tickets. The school PA speaker crackled to life in our home room. The PA didn't always work. It did one day when I did my Howard Cosell impression in the cafeteria/Auditorium.

Two students were play-fighting, and I called the fight just like Howard. The mic was a prop. So I thought. Little did I know the bout was being broadcast live in every room and hallway. I was a hit. People walked up to me and said how good my impression was. Now, back to the rodents.The speaker chimed in. The winner of the gerbils is Dennis Deschamps.  I jumped from my seat and headed down to the office to pick up my prize. Two gerbils. I was told they were the same sex, so I didn't need to worry about babies. Apparently, this was news to them. My mother, as you will remember, wasn't keen on anything with tails. Our family dog was the only exception. One time, we found a garter snake and brought it into the house to show Mom.  She screamed. My younger brother thought he could carry around a frog in his shirt pocket. It was just a frog. He hadn't had a tail since he was a wee tadpole. She wasn't impressed with the cute frog-in-the-pocket ploy. She wasn't very happy about me bringing home a couple of furry friends. I assured her that they would stay in a cage in my locked room.

I started constructing a cardboard maze and placed a piece of cheese as a reward at the end of the rat race. Inside the cage, a water bottle, wood shaving, and gerbil food finished their habitat. The two lived in rodent bliss. They must have wanted to share the bliss with others, so it was no surprise when I found a bunch of little pink babies. I had decided to keep that a secret, and it worked for a while. I learned a few things about gerbils. They grow up fast.  They don't like cardboard or having to race for a treat.

Then it happened. Mom opened my bedroom door and screamed as the rodents made a run for it. The afternoon when I got home from school, my mother gave me the look. I knew something was wrong. We didn't see that look very often. When we saw it, we ran for cover. "Get those rats out of here." That night, I brought my little furry convicts to the pet shop. The angry look softened, that is, until she saw Charlie the squirrel in the backyard. 
 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Canoe Imagine

-
Image
Sundown at Kejimkujik National Park   It was supposed to be a simple canoeing experience. That's how it started. We had spent a day in the pool at Saint Clair College learning to drown-proof. Apparently, it's a thing. Everyone had to fall out of a canoe and pretend they were lost at sea or on the lake. The good news. If you survived, they gave you a life vest. Drowning-proofing requires breathing, rolling into a ball, and floating. Wilson!!! Breath, tread, ball and float. Eventually, we all pass the test. Now, we were ready for the real test.  One of our teachers lived on Pike Creek. Well, not on the creek. In a house.  The school had parked our supplies of canoes and flotation devices in the driveway. We were paired up, each geared up and ready to hit the water. That's when things got interesting. I was paired with a teacher who was taller and much heavier than I. He was in the back. His job was steering. I had learned to steer while in the college pool. The sweep stroke...
Read more

Teachers Toast

-
One class I wasn't a big fan of was Home Ec. I had already learned most of what I needed to know from my mother and my sisters. Mr. Long, our teacher and chef, is dressed in white, from his paper chef's hat down to his shoes. He has two prominent features: a  Fu Manchu moustache and a wandering eye. For that reason (not knowing which one to look into), I never engaged in conversation.  Today's lesson is breakfast preparation. Some kids are across the hall, setting up the teacher lounge for breakfast. Every place setting is decorated meticulously. There is a huge coffee urn gurgling in the corner. Teachers are hovering, waiting for their morning elixir.   I am in the kitchen learning how to paint lightly browned Texas toast with butter. Every slice has a round circle of yellow that never seems to reach the edges, stacked on a plate. I never understood why they gave us a paintbrush instead of a knife. I found this unacceptable. I have never spread my favourite spreadables t...
Read more

A pane in the glass

-
One pane of glass. One red, white and blue basketball. And one frustrating day in the window repair business.    My father was very good at repairing windows. He had plenty of practice. Our backyard was our arena, our stadium and the scene of many sporting errors.  Who done it? It all started on our one-lane road.  Every homeowner could hear the crack of the bat and then the smash of a ball. Where it came from, no one knew. We split, leaving the bat suspended just above the dust cloud. Not a kid in sight. Who done it was an unsolved mystery. All they could see was the weapon, the bat, the ball and the glass now littering the living room floor. Opps Things were different in our backyard. A wayward slapshot way upstairs. Crash. A change-up and a foul tip. Smash. Today's error: a basketball. A hook shot, nothing but air and glass. Bang. Shortly after the initial impact we heard something else, my father cuss "Friggin Kids" It was the only f word my dad was all...
Read more