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THE
ULTIMATE PET
Copyright ©2001 Robert P. Herbst. All rights
reserved.
Once
having decided old age has caught up with you,
it's time to start looking for smaller quarters.
After all, the smaller quarters are going to be
a lot easier to take care of. With this in mind
I found myself a small apartment in a retirement
village here in Mount Perry, Florida. The place
is kind of neat. It has a kitchen dinning room
combination, a separate bedroom and a place to
park the car. What else did I really need? It
was furnished so there was no problem with
moving in. I just turned the key, walked in and
sat down at my dinning room table. In looking
around the room I suddenly realized there was no
place for a pet of any kind. I immediately
contacted the management and asked if pets were
allowed. The rather sullen looking fat lady
behind the desk pointed to a large sign I had
missed on the way in. There, in big bold
letters, were the words, "NO PETS
ALLOWED!"
How
terrible! Here I am an animal lover and I'm
living in a place that doesn't allow pets. What
was I going to do? I sat in a chair outside my
front door and looked around me for any
possibility. There were no animals anywhere in
sight. Not even a squirrel. What kind of place
was this where even squirrels don't live?
In
looking around at the other tenants I found not
a single happy face in the lot. They all sat
about at their front doors with nothing to do
but stare off into space. They all looked quite
miserable. The "Pet Gestapo" surveyed
all from her window and everyone knew she was
forever watchful. No live animal was going to
get past her.
I
made up my mind to find some sort of pet right
then and there. The question was exactly what
kind of pet could I sneak in past the Pet
Gestapo while she was sitting at her front desk.
I wracked my brain for hours to no avail. Then,
as I sat holding my head in my hands, I spied
the answer. There at my feet was an ant.
Well,
what the heck, one learns to adjust to the
circumstances. I stepped inside my little flat
and got a bit of sugar from the sugar bowl. As
luck would have it the ant was still there when
I returned. I put the sugar on the ground and
the ant attacked it with a vengeance. The poor
little thing must have been terribly hungry.
The
little ant satisfied its own hunger, then it
picked up a grain of sugar and ran off into the
grass with it. Within minutes there were lots of
ants feeding on the sugar and carrying it off to
their nest. In no time at all they had exhausted
the supply. They lined up in front of me as if
to say, "Okay, we're waiting, where's the
rest of the sugar?" I got some more sugar
and presented it to the ants. They seemed
appreciative and again carried every bit of it
away. Once again they lined up in front of me
waiting for more. "No, No, my little
friends" I said, "you'll have to wait
until tomorrow for more." The ants
resolutely turned and marched away, vanishing
into the grass.
The
next morning the ants were already lined up in
front of my door awaiting more sugar. This time
I decided to have a little fun with them before
I gave them any sugar. I told them to line up in
three straight lines with the larger ants to the
Right and the smaller ants to the Left.
Instantly the ants raced to comply with my
instructions.
I
now had what looked like a small military
formation in front of me. I barked an order,
"First rank, Right Face! Forward - March,
Column - Left, Column - Left, Pick up sugar and
return to nest!" Instantly the first rank
complied with my instructions and started
carrying the sugar away. I instructed the second
and third rank to do likewise. Now this was
getting interesting.
The
next morning I drilled my little ant army for
about a half hour before I gave them any sugar.
It was about this time when I realized I had a
small army of fire ants in front of me and
instead of three ranks of ants I now had six
ranks. I was going to need more sugar.
A
dark shadow seemed to pass over my little army
and myself as I noticed the Pet Gestapo watching
me from her office window. Within seconds she
was standing before me shouting, "We told
you there would be, NO PETS!" With this she
began stomping on my little buddies killing many
of them before my army took flight and vanished
into the grass where she couldn't find them. I
was horrified by this display of brutality. This
woman had killed my little friends.
I
retired to my flat to consider my next move as
tears streamed down my face. This was a crushing
blow and I had to find some way to strike back.
I sat at the dinning room table for I don't know
how long, completely lost in thought. Suddenly
my attention was drawn to a movement on the
floor in front of me.
Drawn
up on the dinning room floor before me, were
formation after formation of fire ants. There
must have been millions of them. Realizing they
must be hungry I placed a small heap of sugar on
the floor in front of them. I again barked the
orders for them to take the sugar away. This
time, however, only a small part of the
formation began hauling the sugar away. The rest
of them stood still as if awaiting new orders. I
thought carefully before I spoke again. Then,
choosing my words carefully I said, "The
Pet Gestapo is over in that office, over
there," and I pointed at the building in
which she sat at her desk, "she has killed
many of your fellows. It's time for
revenge!" I laid out a plan of attack and
certain of the ants moved closer from each
formation to see what I had in mind. As soon as
the plan was hatched, the ants moved out in
precise military formation, headed in the
direction of the office. Within minutes the Pet
Gestapo was screaming bloody murder. She raced
from her office swatting in every possible
direction. For some strange reason she never
returned to her office. I ventured over to the
office the following day and tore up the sign
forbidding pets. Squirrels appeared as if by
magic, a kitty cat pranced across my desk and I
noticed another tenant walking a dog across the
street from the office. Everyone seemed to be
smiling and quite happy about something.
Once
again my little army lined up on the floor of
the office and I placed the sweet buns and candy
the Pet Gestapo had left behind, on the floor
for them. With military precision they carried
it all away leaving the floor spotlessly clean.
The owner of the retirement village showed up
just then and complimented me on how clean the
place was. Now I have the job the Pet Gestapo
had and I have a willing army to enforce my
inclination on one and all. Fortunately it is no
longer necessary. My army and I wax fat and lazy
in our new found position of authority. Dogs,
cats and squirrels abound throughout the
retirement village and everyone seems happy
about it.
Of
course, it does take about five pounds of sugar
a week to keep my little army in line, but I put
this down as a cost of doing business. |
