MAX’S STORY
By Paul E. Jamison
The handsome Sable ferret opened his eyes. He'd been dreaming of running through a field of tall, green grass on a warm day. Something - a sound, maybe - had woken him up, though.
He lay there and listened, but he heard nothing. It was after hours, and the pet shop was dark. All of the animals were quiet now; the hamsters had given up on their exercise wheels hours ago.
The ferret sighed. He wished he were back in the green field. It was so peaceful there. He remembered the wonderful green-grass smell.
The ferret sniffed the air. He could smell something now. He looked at his back legs. Great. He'd soiled himself in his sleep. Not surprising, since he could no longer control anything below the waist. He dragged himself along with his front legs and managed to get out of the mess, but his hind legs and his hips were smeared now with the stuff, along with some pine chips. The friction had aggravated the urine burns. Not that there were very many clean places in the cage by now anyway.
He sighed again, and that made him cough. The fumes from the pine shavings weren't easy on his breathing, and it seemed to be getting worse.
He was hungry. Soon he'd drag himself over to his food bowl. The kibble had gotten moist and was moldy now, but it was better than nothing. The water was stale but not too dirty.
For now, the ferret felt tired. He didn't want to be here, alone in this messy cage. Then again, he'd seen a lot of humans since he'd come to the shop, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go home with any of them, especially the young ones. He hated when the children poked him and yanked him around like he was some stuffed toy. And when one had dropped him and stepped on him a few days ago... The petshop staff weren't much better. Maybe they'd change his food and water. Sooner or later. Maybe they'd even clean the cages, when a customer complained, but it was obvious they didn't like making the effort. How long before they'd notice that he couldn't use his hind legs? What would happen to him then?
He looked at the glass cage next to him; for all it mattered, it could have been a thousand miles away. The two ferret kits were sleeping now - the little Cinnamon was wheezing a bit from the pine shavings. Sweet kids - he enjoyed watching them play-wrestle during the day. They'd probably go nuts over some toys, but they never got any. They'll be sold soon, he figured, and go home with one of those human children. He hoped -
What was that? He had heard something that time! Some sort of scrabbling noise - above him!? He looked up at the ceiling; there was a skylight directly above. There were lights up there now on the roof, and he could see figures moving around. As he watched, the skylight was opened, and some ropes snaked down - directly into his cage. This was surprising enough, but he was astonished when two figures came rappeling down the ropes. They looked like ferrets - they had to be ferrets! - but he'd never seen completely black ferrets before. As the figures came closer, he could see that they were dressed all in black, with ski masks covering their heads.
When the two ferrets in black reached his cage, the ferret could do no more than stare at them for a few moments. Finally he managed to say, "Who are you?"
One of the ferrets pulled off his ski mask and replied, "We're the Skippys. We're here to get you out. And your name is -?"
"Um - Max! One of the people
here named me that. I like it. She was a nice human, but she didn't stay long
-" Max stopped; he was babbling.
"The good humans don't seem to last long in places like this." Skippy looked with disgust around the glass cage. "And it's obvious that this is one of those places." He looked back at Max. "What kind of shape are you in?"
"Not good. I can't use my hind legs. It was a few days ago -" Max stopped to cough.
"Rest easy, pal." Skippy held up a small walkie-talkie and began barking orders. "Spinal injury! Lower down an immobilization board! And a respirator - yeah, pine shavings." Skippy said, "You'll be fine now, Max. You're in good hands."
Almost before he could think, Max had a plastic mask over his snout and he was breathing cool, pure oxygen - he was already feeling better than he had in days. As the Skippys were strapping him down to the board, he looked over at the other cage. Someone else was awake now. The two little kits were staring at the strange ferrets.
The Blaze said, "Will you take us with you, too? Please take us with you! This place is bad! We don't wanna be here either!"
"No!" said the Cinnamon kit, and everyone stared at her. "If they take us, this place will just get more ferrets in to replace us! This bad stuff will just happen all over again. As long as we're here, they won't get more ferrets in for awhile."
"Oh..." The Blaze looked like he was about to cry, but he said, "Never mind about us then. We'll be okay. We'll find a home pretty soon."
One Skippy looked at the other. "What do we do, boss? This is a terrible place for these kids."
The Head Skippy looked around the petshop. "Not just for them. These people don't take good care of any of these animals. But where do we stop? Do we take the hamsters, too? That kitten in the corner? We have to take Max here, of course, but the Cinnamon girl's right - if we take her and her brother, there'll be just more ferrets brought in later to suffer. I know how you feel, son, but once we start, where do we stop? It tears a person's heart out, but we've got to be strong."
The other Skippy said nothing; he just nodded.
Max was strapped down snugly now. Skippy balanced himself on the board and spoke into his walkie-talkie. "Okay, lift us up, and go easy." He said to the other Skippy, "Once we're up, follow us."
"Yessir."
Slowly Max was pulled up to the skylight. He looked around at the petshop, seeing it from a whole new angle now. It was dawning on him that he was leaving, and he knew he'd never come back here. This was all so confusing to him, but for the first time in a long while, he was feeling hope.
The Skippys. He was being rescued by the Skippys.
When he got to roof level, Max was somehow not surprised to see that he'd been lifted with a crane attached to the side of a ferret-sized helicopter.
Skippy smiled. "CH-47 Chinook. Boeing Vertol helped build a scaled-down version just for us. Good humans there. A chopper comes in real handy in a situation like this." Max was lowered to the rooftop, and a paramedic Skippy began going over him. The Head Skippy spoke into the walkie-talkie. "We're up now. Climb on up. - What do you mean you can't climb up because your paws are full? Oh, all right - pull him up, fellas!"
Soon Skippy appeared through the skylight. No wonder he couldn't climb; he held the two kits close to his body. "I'm sorry, boss. I guess I'm not very strong."
The Head Skippy looked at him sternly. "No, you're not." And his features softened. "But you've got a big heart, son. Okay, kids, I guess you're with us now. What's your names?"
The two kits stared at the Chinook 'copter and at the Skippys bustling around. The Blaze finally whispered, "We - we don't got no names, Mister."
"Okay. We'll have to do something about that." The Head Skippy pretended to think for a minute, then smiled. "Well, why not... Skippy and Skippy? We could always use some new recruits." The two kits squealed with glee. "I'll take that as a yes. Okay, we're almost ready - and where do you think you're going?"
Skippy was leaning over the open skylight, hanging on to the rope. He held up a spray-paint can. "We can't take all the animals, like you say, but I figure we can leave a message. Any suggestions?"
The Head Skippy nodded. "I like the way you think. Just tell them something along the lines of 'Clean up your act.'" - he looked grim for a moment - "'or the Skippys will be back.' Use your own judgement."
"Yessir!" Skippy shinnied back down the rope. The Head Skippy knelt down beside Max. The paramedic had already started an IV drip and was spreading salve on Max's urine burns. "We'll have you at the infirmary in a few minutes. I can't guarantee that we can get you completely healed, but we'll do our best - Beg pardon? I didn't catch that."
Max said quietly, "Thank you."
Skippy nodded. "You're quite welcome."
"And that's how I met the Skippys, sir. I kept tabs on the petstore. Skippy's graffitti really stirred them up, but they never did learn the lesson, sad to say. The store was closed down - I might say with extreme prejudice - and there's a video rental place there now. The spinal injury was too much to repair, but I do fine. The Skippys spent a lot of time fitting this wheelchair up for me." Max smiled. "I owe the Skippys a lot - more than I can ever repay."
Paul nodded. "Well, that's the way the Skippys are. It's too bad that they can't rescue all of the petstore kids."
"No, they can't, sir. They do what they can. It might not make all that much of a difference. But you know the story about the starfish."
"Quite true. Anyway, we've got a birthday salute to do, so we ought to bring the Cannon forward."
Max grinned. "Already taken care of, sir! A couple of friends of mine are doing the honors." Two Skippys - a Blaze and a Cinnamon - dressed in white coveralls pushed the vintage Civil War piece into position. The two Skippys said a cheerful "Hi, Uncle Max!" in unison, and came over to give Max a warm hug.
Max replied, "Hi, kids!" and held his two friends close. He then said, "Okay, we're ready, sir."
"Excellent! On my mark, then. Ready... aim... FIRE!"
"BOOOOOOMMM!!!
The charge soared to altitude and exploded, showering everything with confetti, streamers, balloons and M&Ms in many wonderful flavors. A banner floated down beneath parachutes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Max watched the banner and hugged his two special friends.
THE END
The characters Murphy, Sammy, Max, Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, etc., are copyright 2007 by Paul E. Jamison.