Talking to the Animals

Talking to the Animals

I had always thought how exciting it would be to talk to animals, like Dr. Doolittle. Like what is going on in my cat’s head? I would ask Muffin all the questions I wonder about.

               Why do you make that funny noise when you stare out the window at a bird? What does mouse meat taste like? Is it like chicken? Why do you insist on tearing up our couch when you have an expensive scratching post?

               When we dropped Muffin off at The Cat Chateau while we went on vacation. I was not contemplating any of these questions. My family and I were traveling to Yellowstone Park for the first time and my husband, Jake, and the twins, Peppa and Peter, who are now eight years old, were excited.

               By looking on the computer, the route, the sights, hotels, and restaurants were all planned. I packed shorts, sleeveless tops, and flip flops for the July weather and added light jackets for cooler evenings. But what we planned and what happened were two different things. My dream of being able to communicate with animals was about to come true and it was not at all like what I expected.

               To get to Yellowstone, we had to drive on winding roads with sheer drop-offs on the side. I am afraid of heights.

               “Why don’t you go to the Health Food Store and get some natural stress relief tablets?” My friend, Dahlia said.

               I popped in several as we climbed the pass. They really helped.

               Our first day, Old Faithful spouted off, the mud pots bubbled, and the cerulean blue Prismatic Spring, and the Morning Glory Pool sparkled in the sunshine. We ate and stayed at the Old Faithful Inn. Tomorrow, we would drive to Mammoth Hot Springs.

               I always have difficulty going to sleep the first night away from home. I thought maybe those stress tablets would help. I shook out three into my palm a half hour before bedtime.

               My eyes were drooping as I got in bed. It had been a long drive.

               When I awoke in the morning, our room was eerily quiet. Jake lay on his back next to me, and the twins were still asleep in their bunk beds. As I sat up, my dream or quasi-nightmare came rushing back to me. Muffin had been talking to me, but she was not in any mood for my questions.

               “What were you thinking bringing me here?” she said, flattening her ears. ‘Me, in a cage? I have only been able to get nine hours of sleep because of a yowling Siamese They feed me dry tasteless food. They won’t let me outside and I have to do my business in a stinky litter box.”

               “But Muffin,” I said, “If we had left you at home you would have run out of food and been all alone. We brought you to the best place we found on the internet. We paid a lot of money to have you boarded there for seven days.”

               “You’re going to be gone seven days? Is this punishment for tearing your new curtains?”

               The details of her high-pitched voice, her tail swinging angrily back and forth, and her fur standing on end were still vivid. If conversations with animals went like this, maybe I did not want to get acquainted after all. Oh well, it was just a dream. Maybe, my subconscious was making me feel guilty for leaving her.

               Jake stretched, sat up, and then slowly stood.”

 “Good Morning, Honey. Did you sleep okay?”

               “Yes, but I had the craziest dream.”

               “It’s cold in here, I think I’ll turn on the heater.”

               On his way to the thermostat, he parted the curtain and gasped.

               “You won’t believe this,” he said to me. “Come and look, Lisa.”

               I came to his side and gazed at the heavy snowfall on the ground and the large flakes still coming down.

               “Snow in July? How will we keep warm?”

               At breakfast, we asked our waitress if a freak storm like this had ever happened before.

               “Oh, yes,” she said. “The weather here is unpredictable.”

               “I only brought summer clothes for ourselves and our kids,” I said. “I don’t know what we will do.”

               “You could get some hoodies at the gift shop.”

               “We don’t even have proper shoes.”

               “West Yellowstone isn’t that far. You could get cheap gardening boots.” She smiled. “At least one good thing about the snow, you are going to see all kinds of animals, because when it snows like this, they come down from the hills. They will be right along the highway.”

               “Bears?” Peter asked.

               “Yes, and maybe bison, foxes, wolves, elk, and antelopes too.    

               We bought matching sweatshirts, Jake turned up the heater, and we headed for West Yellowstone.

               Snow in July is crazy enough, but when we started seeing the animals the waitress had promised, I thought I might be losing my mind.

               “Dad, Dad,” Pepa shouted, as she bounced up and down in the back seat. “Pull over so we can see the deer up close.”

               A buck and two does were scraping aside the snow to forage on the grass underneath.

               The buck looked up when we stopped.

               “Oh, good grief,” I heard the guy wearing antlers say. “It’s not bad enough that we have to freeze our feet getting something to eat, but these tourists have to come and gawk at us.”

               One of the does agreed. “You’d think they would stay home in this storm.”

               The other doe laughed. Deer laughed? “Oh, Charger, they look harmless. They don’t have any guns.”

               I had a hard time breathing. I sneaked a look at Jake. He was smiling at our kids who had pressed their noses against the side window. Was I having a hallucination? I decided not to say anything. Who would believe me?

               But then I had the strangest impulse. I rolled down my window partway and gave a rebuttal. “Well, Charger, we live in a city, so we don’t see deer, that’s why we are staring at you.”

               “If it hadn’t snowed, we would be up in the mountains and we wouldn’t see tourists. We don’t go down to the city to stare at you.”

               He had a point, well, eight actually.

               Jake turned back to me. “What are you saying to the deer?” Who’s Charger?”

               I almost said, “That cheeky buck.” Instead, I said, “Let’s go, Jake. There’s probably more animals up the road.” I turned to Peter, “Maybe we’ll see a bear.”

               “Yeah, let’s go.”

               Jake turned the key in the ignition but gave me a funny look.

               Sure enough, we did not even go a mile before we stopped again. There was a black bear trying to open a garbage can.

               Somehow that bear knew I had become Mrs. Doolittle.

               “Hey, lady,” the furry person said, “Do you people want me to starve? You’ve got this garbage can trussed up so tight with chains I can’t get it open.”

               Without thought, I said, “You look like you could lose some weight.”

               The bear abandoned the garbage can and lumbered over to our car and stuck its nose against the window glass on my side.

               “I’ve got cubs to feed. What’s your excuse?”

               “Mom, that bear likes you,” Peter said.

               “I guess so.” I was not about to tell him that I had just offended another woman and she had retaliated.

               That whole day, I confounded my husband while muttering strange utterances to wolves and bison, who rightly complained about how they had been hunted to the point of extinction, foxes who protested being worn as collars, and antelope bickering over who could run the fastest.

               “Are you okay?” Jake said to me. “Do you think those pills you’re taking are safe?”

               By the end of the day, the animal’s voices were getting fainter. By morning, the snow was melting. I did not hear the squirrels at our hotel gossiping about how many acorns they had buried for winter.

               The rest of the family are enjoying this trip so much, that they have decided to go to Animal Safari next year. I will not be bringing any of Tanya’s Tranquil Tabs.