🚀 go-pugleaf

     Anghus looked at the Seventy-Leven clerk in dismay.
Even he, starving student that he'd been, had not resorted to
such an act of desperation as eating Spam!  It didn't seem like
the kind of stuff he ought to be feeding a kitten.  And was it his
imagination, or did the clerk's eyes seem suddenly, unwarnedly, to
glitter strangely?  They almost seemed to whirl around the irises...
Anghus felt an odd sensation, as if something was pulling at him,
compelling...almost as if he had to take the can...  He reached slowly,
reluctantly toward it -
     And the door burst open with a resounding bang, as a bearded man
in a Stetson hat, fringed coat, and a necklace of bear claws breezed in.
"Mavis!" he bellowed cheerfully.  How's my favorite kitchen goddess?"
     Mavis blinked, and her eyes went back to normal.  She blushed.
"Oh, go on with you now, Griz!  What can I get you?"
     "Got any of them Mastodon wings?"  He pointed at a garish sign that
declared, "We don't fool around with no buffalo!"  A wooly mammoth was
chasing a bison out of the picture.
     "Sure do, amigo."
     "Well, gimme a bucket full, then.  Extra spicy!"
     Anghus came back to himself.  "Chicken!" he exclaimed.  "That's it!"
     "What'd you say, son?"
     "Excuse me, ma'am - "
     "Oh, call me Mavis, everybody does."
     "Yes, ma'- uh, Mavis.  Could I have eight or so pieces of very
meaty chicken?  Um, extra mild?"
     "Sure thing, comin' right up.  Lemme just get Griz here on his way,
and I'll fix 'em right next for ya.  Light meat or dark?"
      "Um, some of both?"
      "No problem.  Just be a minute."
     Anghus stood blinking owlishly as Mavis bustled around, bucketing
the wings.  Hadn't there been something odd...a can of, Spam?  He didn't
see it now...  He shook his head.
     The other guy, Griz, looked on, beaming expansively.

                           *       *       *

     Elsewhere, a weary tech looked up.  "No good, Mistress, we lost the
connection."
     A cold, precise, dangerous voice answered, "What do you _mean_,
you lost the connection?"
     "Ah," mumbled a sweating lackey, "that we thought we had him, but then
he got away..."  He trailed off nervously.
     "I see."
     Craniums will roll now, thought the tech.  He wisely said nothing.
The lackey, on the other digit, began babbling excuses.
     "But Mistress, it was that Griz coming in!  We couldn't help it!
He's a a Force of Nature!  Nothing from another Altiverse can get through
around him..."
     "That is so."  The voice sent a chill like a million bits of asteroid
ice down the tech's spinal tubing.  It made him wish he'd not been designed
with tactile perception.  He slowly edged himself over behind the aparatus.
No way to save the lackey now, poor fool.  Best shield his own aftside
surfaces, if he still could.
     "For that reason," the voice went on, "I will not kill you outright
for having failed me."
     The lackey began bowing franticly.  "Oh, thank you, Mistress!"
     "No.  Instead, I will send you to the Planet of Useless Menial Tasks.
There you will live out the rest of your withered, miserable existance
stuffing envelopes with Cabbage Patch doll birth certificates!"
     "Oh, Mistress, no!" the lackey wailed franticly.  "Mistress, please!
Anything but that..."
     "Really?  Would you rather I sent you to the Secretarial Pool for
666NASTYNASTYNASTY?"
     "Nooooooooooo......."
     "Right, then.  Menial Tasks it is.  The shuttle leaves for Ridgley's
World in half a chronal.  Guards!"  She summoned two large burly guys
in from beside the entry hatch.  "See that he's on it."  And when the
guards had impassively hauled the gibbering lackey away, "Tech?"
     The tech resigned himself to going to join his Designer, Real Soon
Now, and stepped out from behind the sheltering bulk of the aparatus.
"Yes, Mistress?"
     "Set up for the next attempt.  I want control of that Anghus!"
     "Right away, Mistress."
     "Good.  You're effecient, tech.  I like that in an android.  Keep
it up."
     "Yes, Mistress."
     "Carry on, then."  The voice withdrew her presence.  The tech dropped
to his metal knees, thanked the Great Designer for once more being spared,
and then launched into the recalibration.

                           *       *       *

     Back at the Seventy-Leven,  Mavis was just ringing up Griz's order.
The huge bearded man gave her a handful of silver dillars and waved away
her attempts to give him change.  Two kids in stocking caps and winter
jackets came in.  Griz grinned expansively at them all once more, and
tipped his hat to Mavis.  As she turned away to work on Anghus's order,
Griz winked, tapped his nose, and vanished.
     Anghus blinked.  "Bwah?" he muttered to himself.
     "Bro, didja _see_ him?" said the one kid to his buddy.
     "Sure did."
     "Was that really _him_?"
     "Yep!  Griz Kringle, the man himself!"
     "Wow..."
     Anghus blinked again.  Griz Kringle?  Why, he'd thought that was only
a legend...  Sure was a real guy, though.  Big, bluff and large as life,
he was.  Well, maybe he just liked to dress the part for some pageant or
holiday play.  Yeah, that was probably it.  A harmless eccentricity, that
was, this time of year.  He couldn't have really disappeared, of course.
Guy just probably was in a hurry to get home and left fast.  Vanished,
indeed.  Next he'd have himself looking looking for an eight elk seigh...
Smiling, he shook his head at the whimsy, paid Mavis for his chicken, and
walked back into the crisp moonlit night.
     Two seconds later, he was back in.  "Almost forgot!" he called to
her.  "Need a litter pan too, and a bag of Piddle Grit(tm)."
    "Right over there, son."  Mavis pointed it out for him.  Anghus
hoisted the sack and approached the counter again, just as the kitten
wiggled, making a writhing bulge in the coat.
     Mavis smiled at him.  "Now, of course, animals aren't allowed in
here," she remarked knowingly.  "However, since there's no staff here
but me, tonight, how about a peak at him?"
     Amghus grinned back sheepishly and folded open his coat to show
the little black and white face.
    "Aww, what a cutie!" she declared.  "You take good care of him now,
and take the bones out of that chicken!  They're brittle, not good for kitties."
     "Yes, ma-Mavis.  I'll be careful with him."
     "Here, son, lemme give you a bag with handles for that.  You're
walking, right?"  Anghus nodded.  "Right, then, I'll double bag it.  Won't
give out on you half way back, then."
     "Thanks."
     "No problem.  Gotta see that you and the little guy get safe home.
Here ya go!"  She gave the kitten a last pat and handed the bags to
Anghus.  He paid the balance, then set out for home once again.  The
kitten snuggled back down in his pocket, only wiggling a few times this
time, and purred contentedly again.
     Anghus strode briskly away from campus, past the newer modern
apartment complexes, past the huge imposing old frat houses, each with a
larger and more ambitious holiday light display than the next, and on out
towards the edge of town.  Finally he came to a cluster of squat 3 story
brick buildings, somewhat ambitiously christened Mountain View, though the
view was really more of a nearby farm field than anything else.  He loped
up the steps to his second floor effeciency, unlocked the door, and
gratefully set down the sack of Piddle Grit(tm).  "Man, that thing's
heavy!"
     The kitten wriggled up the inside of his jacket and peered out,
tickling underneath his chin.  "Hey, there, widget!  Stop that!"  The
kitten wiggled more.  Anghus grinned ruefully, and fished the squirming
cat baby out, setting him down gently on the bed.  The kitten immediately
hopped down and began to scamper around, sniffing everything.
     "First things first," said Anghus, and set up the litter pan in the
bathroom under the sink.  The kitten promptly demonstrated that he
understood what it was for.  Anghus nodded, left him to it, and went off
to debone the chicken.  Pretty soon, someone small and fuzzy was mewing
eagerly up at him, and trying to climb the table leg.  The formica surface
left him sliding back down, but he kept determinedly at it.
     "Hold on just a fuzzy minute!  I'm fixin' it as fast as I can..."
     "Mow!  Mowmowmow!  Rrow!  Naow!"
     "OK, here ya go," Anghus replied, setting a dish of chicken bits on
the floor.  The kitten began wolfing it down.  Anghus watched him, and a
strange, warm, really good kind of feeling began to spread itself around
inside of him.  Somebody to talk to!  Company!  He reached down and stroked
the little cat gently, taking care not to reach between him and the food.
The kitten somehow managed to purr and eat at the same time.
     "Wait, we need water, too!"  Anghus looked around for something to put
it into, and finally came up with a shallow tub that had once held Cheezie
Sardine Dip.  He fished it out of the recycling bin, washed it out, and then
set water down beside the kitten as well.  The kitten lapped at it and
Anghus watched the tidy motions of the tiny pink tongue with fascination.
He'd not been around a cat so young in ages!  How neat it was to watch him!
     "Well, little guy, it ain't much, but such as it is, here's your new
home.  Beats bein' out on the street, though.  That much I'm sure of.
It may be old and cheap, with no fancy amenities, but on the other hand,
it's warm and dry and out of the wind."
     "Mow..."  The kitten dabbed at his leg, then took a flying leap and
began to climb Anghus's trousers.
     "Hey, cut that out!  Those little claws of your are sharp!"  Anghus
picked the kitten off his leg and set him on his shoulder.  Cleaning up
while keeping a munchkin fuzz balanced there was a trick, but he managed.
     "Yes, kid, you seem to be in luck, finding me just as things are about
to get better, what with the new job and all.  I ought to be able to afford
to keep you fed ok.  I tell you, it beats that winter when I was over in
Janice County next door, living on a tin box trailer with nothin' but a
propane tank heater, and tryin' not to freeze my butt off, while I figured
out what to do next with my life."
     "Mow," agreed the kitten.
     "So while this is not a palace like ol' Yobbo Morone lives in, here's
a step up for me, and given the look of you, for you, as well."
     "Mow!"  The kitten washed on his ear, its rough little tongue rasping
and making twitchy sensations.
     "Hey!  You rascal, that tickles too!"  Anghus set the kitten on the
bed again and plunked down beside him.  The kitten promptly climbed up
in his lap and began kneading.
     "Oy!  Ouchie!  No claws, widget!  He scooped the kitten up and held
him up in his cupped hands, looking at him.  The kitten reached out a
long thin leg and dabbed a paw at him again.  "I know what!" exclaimed
Anghus.  "You need toys!  Something to roll around with and pounce on,
instead of me!  Hoom.  Lemme think...."  He began rummaging around in the
kitchen cupboards and drawers.  "Aha!  Here we have - string!  Just the
ticket!  And a scrap of dish rag for the tail, and a spring from the
gizmo hardwares box, so it'll bobble around...  OK.  Tie spring firmly to
doorknob, so.  Append string at a good dangling length, fasten on also
firmly.  Affix rag scrap, and hey, presto!  Kitten toy.  Here!  Go for it!
Be amused!"  He bobbed the string up and down in front of the kitten,
who stared intently, then revved up his little hind end and pounced on the
rag bit, biting and kicking happily.  Anghus chuckled and went off to the
kitchen again, only to find himself being drawn back to watch, the fuzzy
munchkin was so endearing.
     "And when you get tired of that," he told the kitten, "I've got a
ping-pong ball my cousin left.  Be just right for you, that will."
He managed to tear himself away just long enough to find it, then stood
watching the antics again.  Finally the kitten wore himself out, and
curled up to sleep, paws wrapped possessively around one of Anghus's
smelly old socks.  "You want my stinky footwear?  You is weird, furchild."
Anghus tried to take it away, but the kitten clutched tighter.  Anghus
gave another rueful grin and let him keep the sock.  He had others, after all.
     Then Anghus was struck with a feeling, an impulse, a compelling urge.
Yeah, he knew, rationally, that it was altogether silly.  He was a grown
man.  Grownups didn't...  Only a kid would...  Why, he hadn't written to
Griz Kringle in literally years!  Still, he was going to now.  Feeling
foolish yet determined, he got out paper and began to write.

Dear Griz,

I don't need anything for myself, yet if you could leave my little buddy
here some kitten toys, I'd sure appreciate it.

I left you some raspberry cider and a plate of munchies on top of the
fridge there, where he can't get into them.  Hope you like grunion dip
and Cheez Things.

Best wishes,   Anghus

     *You _know_ you're gonna be disappointed, now, don't you,* said a
nagging voice in his head.  *That'll be right there still when you wake
up.  You know it will.*
     "Well, then, I'll just take it out and let the little birds have it.
Do some good that way, too.  Think I'll take 'em a plate tomorrow,
regardless.  Well, minus the grunion dip, and plus more crackers.  Yeah,
that'll work."  He propped the note up beside the snack plate anyway.
"OK, little bit," he added to the kitten, "time for bed."
     The kitten watched in fascination as Anghus brushed his teeth.  Then
Anghus set him gently on the spread, and slid under the covers himself.
The kitten curled down beside him and purred.  It made a nice radiating
spot of warmth.  They drifted off to sleep together.

     Anghus woke in the early morning.  He smelled food!  Something
wonderful!  But how could that be?  The kitten was already awake, he could
hear it chasing the ping-pong ball around the kitchen.  Anghus leaped out of
bed and in 2 strides was in the kitchen.  The plate was off the fridge.
It was empty.  So was the cup.  His note was gone and there was a strip of
birch bark propped up against a big box.  The tag, also birchbark, said For
Anghus and Widget.  Anghus felt his eyes widening as he picked up the
birchbark.  It was a note...

Hey, Anghus, amigo!

You did fine on the kitty toys yourself, so I thought I'd help you out with
the food, instead.  Here.  This is for you and your new furry friend.  Happy
Holidays, and a very Beary Grizness!

     Anghus opened the box.  Inside was a super delux Mama Lizardo's Pizza
With Everything(tm).  Beside it was a six pack of gourmet cat food.
    "Wow..." he murmered to the kitten.  "Look, furface, fancy eats!"
He went to the window and gazed out at the full moon and the lingering
stars of the early dawn.  "Thanks, Griz!  Wherever you are!"  A faint
cheerful cry of "Yo ho ho....!" seemed to drift back to him.
     Then he opened the goodies, and they both set to for a breakfast
feast.


("HEY, AREN'T WE SUPPOSED TO GET QUESTIONS HERE?"
 "SHHH!  THERE'S A DEDICATION THIS TIME, INSTEAD."
 "OH.  OK!)

                        *       *       *

This episode is dedicated to the pride of cats who have enlivened my days,
starting with Sugar Magee, when I was 5.  Also Razzy, Rose, Gray, Explorer,
Jenny, Chessie, Martin, and now, Munchkin and Grey Brother.  (So yeah, he's
a cat, not a wolf.  Cats, the lease allows here, *grin*)


Also and especially, this episode is dedicated to Charlie, a leggy black
and white waif who came wailing up out of the soybean fields looking for
me, back when I lived in Maryland.  We had a few good years together before
he died unexpectedly.

I miss him.  So I wrote out a picture...


Those we love are with us still, when we remember.




Copyright 1996






-- Peg Fisher        Charter Member, Live Poets Society
recycler@nrv.net     http://www.nrv.net/~recycler/

Speak from the heart, and hearts will understand.