During my church’s writing gathering (called Pages), we were given a writing prompt called, Peculiar Pet. It’s from the book, The Write Brain, which is a creative book on writing prompts. If you would like to write but don’t know what to write about, here is the idea we were given this past Wednesday from Pages.
We were given the options of picking one of these pets to write about:
hummingbird afraid of heights
cockroach afraid of the dark
cat allergic to cats
3 legged goat
20 lb. mouse
tiger with an ingrown nail
I challenge you to try your hand and imagination – then email me your story! I’d love to read it! Or keep it to yourself – but that’s not as fun. Start your sentence with: The folks at the…
Here’s my silly story (an no – I didn’t write about the ingrown nail. Don’t type-cast me. ).
The folks at the Lutheran Nursing Home have adopted me, a mouse with a hormone problem (I feel I should just get that out there right now – lay it out on the table – acknowledge the elephant in the room so to speak). I’m told that my BMI indicates severe obesity. But that’s too harsh. I’m merely 20 pounds and it’s all muscle. And if it isn’t, it’s my mother’s fault. I have inherited her hips. But anyway, I now live with the senile macular degenerative geriatrics who think I’m a cat. They feed me well and caress my head. They call me Kitty. And I’m okay with that cause I’m living the high life. Everyday is like Halloween as I go trick-or-treating from room to room, collecting caresses and cuisine.
The only downside to my new identity as cat and career as a nursing home pet is the occasional homicide attempt from Charlotte the Chaser, the crazy 85 pound lady who sits in a wheel chair and propels herself forward at remarkable speed by utilizing her own two legs. She’s the only human I’ve ever seen to sit and walk at the same time. Some dogs do this when they have lost their hind legs and their back-ends are situated into a cart. I’ve seen this on two separate occasions but nothing like Charlotte who runs people down in her wheelchair, punching and pinching and slapping as she goes. She’s a mean old beast who gets her own table in the dining room because she tends to throw her food with great force and in long distances. But Charlotte is the only senior who is not fooled by my immense size and by blurry vision. She never misses an opportunity to smack me with her TV remote, extra long shoe horn, lunch tray, or whatever she has in her hand at the moment. She screams, “Kill the rat! Kill the rat!”. I hiss and arch my back, hair standing on end – offended. How dare she call me a rat? Thankfully, others come to my rescue (always too late though, since there’s really only one speed for a geriatric – except for Charlotte who must be on steroids). They think Charlotte has said, “Kill the cat! Kill the cat!” I can create quite a stir once they reach Charlotte and I. Have you ever seen geriatrics fight? I’ve heard the Discovery Channel has a new reality TV series called, “Geriatric Gangstas”, the urban nursing home edition.
And so my cover has yet to be blown. I thank my lucky stars for blind eyes, horrible hearing, senility, and one genius plan that actually is working.