Expendable Resources | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Expendable Resources | Previous Challenge Entry
By Debra Burgess
05/21/08
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Dogs or cats? That is really the question isn't it? Chickens or cows would be better I think; much easier question when you look at it from a trained hunger point of view. Now my husband is definitely a cat person. I lean towards dogs since they will fetch a paper at least, but truthfully I am rather assured I shouldn't be responsible for anything that needs to eat, drink or want attention. How I managed to still be married all these years later is probably a fluke. The husband’s survival techniques were learned from his many years in the military. He will actually search out a water source other than a toilet bowl so he’s a keeper.
It's all I can do to make sure our creatures stay calm. Whenever one of us is up and awake they start to think it's playtime at La Casa, thus begins a small sideshow worthy of the circus. Brew (fatted dog) pants heavily while hopping his pork-a-lope body up and down. We nicknamed him pork-a-lope in reference to an extremely fat pig body cross-bred with the jumping nature of an antelope. This hopping brings about a rhythm of toenails echoing loudly upon our once gorgeous wood floors in the kitchen. Squirrel (fatted cat) likes to just moan loudly outside our office door. When I listen to these moans I like to reminisce of old black and white movies where you would hear the lonely wails of creatures unknown. Scratch (Diablo kitten), well this new edition is aptly named and nicknamed. His favorite antics are twofold. Shredding everything with the claws and biting our ankles like a small kitty shark making us high jump as though performing a “River Dance” impression.
This particularly long day was nearing its end and I had made the rounds for feeding and watering all these creatures in my husband’s absence. The house had become silent as each furry beast lounged about with full bellies. I was looking forward to falling into bed. Brushing my teeth I wondered what time my husband’s flight would arrive? It would be wonderful to see him again and even better not having to remember to feed more than myself. Tossing back the comforter to crawl into bed I spotted a dollar sized pile of “goo” just below where my pillow lay. I screamed aloud, “Diablo”! Of course he did not come to claim his work. Had my lamp been off I would have been treated to a more intimate exposure of this precious gift! A few wetted paper towels later and all I had managed to do was smear my favorite yellow print sheets with a garish pink stain too big to ignore.
Being exhausted I opted to sleep on my husband’s side of the bed, piling up a wall of pillows between myself and the site of the incident. Drifting off to sleep I imagined how soft my new slippers were going to be once I talked my husband into the practicality of expendable resources. I wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t counter with “long-suffering”.

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