Thursday, April 3, 2008

Something's Seriously Wrong

(Continued from the last post)

Fred came to in a cold sweat, trying desperately to remember where he was and what had just happened. Disoriented. The searing pain in his side brought everything back in a flash. Bessie! Where was Bessie? She’d worked so hard to mend him. Now where had she gone? He hadn’t even retrieved her apple. She must be exhausted and starving, having made the long walk to the laundry room and back.

Gently, far more slowly than he liked, Fred turned his head to find her. He swiveled slowly back and in the opposite direction until he caught sight of her, resting against the butter, her favorite spot. She claimed she loved the feel of the cool, creamy texture, but he knew that she occasionally snuck little nibbles. He also knew she jealously guarded the butter from the giant orange cat who loved its creamy taste. Bessie looked so peaceful after the evening’s ordeal; a well-deserved break. Dang it! She’d left the glue out! Maybe he could make his way over and …

What on earth?! Fred watched, startled, as Bessie’s belly seized up, her whole face tightening and her body shuddering. He heard a low moo escape her muzzle and was instantly on his feet. Then flat on his back with a thud. There was no way he was moving any time soon. Shoot!

“Bessie? Bessie!” She looked over, porcelain face white, teeth clenched and eyes screwed up tight, glaring at him. As quickly as it all began, she relaxed as though nothing had happened. He couldn’t have been imagining things, could he?

“Fred, how are you feeling? No, don’t try moving. You’re badly hurt, but there’s not much more I can do. I think I found all the pieces. You just rest, okay?” He could hear it in her voice, the pain and weariness. So he wasn’t imagining things. Something was wrong. But Fred knew better than to ask directly. He opened his mouth, but she continued, “Fred, the Giants are going to know something bad happened. I left the glue out. And you’re a mess, Fred. The redhead will know immediately, even if she is a little spacey. She likes us too much. I can’t … moooo!!”

This time he wasn’t going to lie there and watch her in agony. Not if it killed him. Not after he’d misjudged her so badly. Fred struggled slowly to his feet, keeping his eyes on Bessie, trying to gauge the amount of pain she must be feeling. “Bessie? What is it? What’s wrong? I’m coming, Bessie. Just hold on …”

Grimacing and leaning hard into the butter, she glared at him, daring him with her eyes to take another step, But the soft groans she emitted belied the look and he dragged himself to her side, nearly toppling with every step. This was harder than he’d imagined anything could be. But here he was next to Bessie, and there she was, licking the butter and heaving great sighs. The pain seemed to be gone. Again.

“Um, Bessie? Has this been going on long? What’s happening to you? Bessie! Stop eating that butter! What’s WRONG?!” Fred had her attention now, but she was silent, staring at him as though measuring his character, weighing whether or not she could trust him. “For Pete’s sake, Bessie, we’ve been through enough already. Just tell me what’s going on!?

He knew this display of temper, truly fear on his part, would only serve to shut Bessie’s mouth, ensuring an evening of silence on her part. But neither could he stand silently, ignoring the pain, not knowing! It seemed he had no choice, however, so he lay next to the butter dish to wait. He’d learned long ago that her silence spoke volumes. That his silence was the only way to unlock hers.

(to be continued ...)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Good grief. I'm on the edge of my seat! Write, woman!!

Autobiographical much? :D Ya know, the thing that amazed me about watching the kittens being born was the way the mama handled the pain. She barely even grunted. We really are cursed in childbirth as humans. Here's hoping Bessie doesn't suffer too much!

*gnawing my nails*