Mary and Richard Baxter had a bit of a menagerie in their
home. This was due in part because Mary
had a tendency to take in every stray she came across. Her husband didn’t mind though – even as he
was pulled from his statistical analysis which he had been eagerly running for
the last hour. It was simply one of her
many quirks which he’d grown to love.
This was a crucial moment, he thought to himself as he
walked to the sliding glass door. A German
Shepard, a Chihuahua, a Pomeranian, and a fourth dog that was too heavily mixed
to determine its dominant ancestry, all pawed excitedly at his legs – anxious
to frolic outside. Meanwhile, two cats
looked up at him expectantly, waiting to be fed. Their fur – one orange, and the other black -
reminded him of the disturbing graphs and charts being displayed on his
computer across the room.
“Okay guys,” he said to the dogs. “Dad’s working right now, so if you’re going
to go out, stay out, will you? I don’t have time to keep jumping up and
down,” he jokingly grumbled in a deep voice as he playfully ruffled their
heads. “And as for you,” he addressed
the two cats, after the dogs bounded outside - immediately giving chase to the
squirrels on the porch, “You guys…are
useless.” He rubbed each of their chins
as he laid out their wet food. Sighing
again, he went back to his computer to continue his work.
Richard Baxter was part of a team of scientists contracted
by the government, tasked with charting humanity’s present course in the global
warming crisis. The results showing on
his screen at the moment were not good.
By his calculations – pooled with the data collected by the entire commission
– there was approximately one year and seven months left before Earth passed the
point of no return. By then, if a
comprehensive, world-wide solution was not found, nothing could be done to restore the stability of global weather patterns. The next generation would then have to face an
unavoidable ice age. He was morbidly
amused by this, thinking about how his own city ordinance handled a tiny bit of
snowfall. If things fell apart here with
only a few inches of light powder, he could just imagine how they would handle
it a hundred years from now.
His revelry was interrupted by a tapping sound on the glass
door behind him. The dogs apparently
didn’t heed his request, and were clamoring to come back inside. Richard sighed again. “Really guys?”
Nevertheless, he begrudgingly got up to let them in. Only five minutes had passed, but that was enough
time for them to do…whatever it is that dogs do out there besides defecate and
mark territory. When he opened the glass
door, all four of them remained where they were and looked up at him with an
odd expression.
“Well? You coming in
or not?”
Instead, they cocked their heads to the side uniformly, and
made a single whining sound. Concerned,
Richard bent down.
“What’s wrong, guys?
Huh? What is it?” He inquired this as he gently patted each of
their heads.
That’s when the Pomeranian spoke to him.
Wait, what?
Yeah, that wasn’t right.
Richard’s mind played a trick on him.
He really needed to get away from the computer for awhile.
But then it repeated itself.
“I said, it’s time, Richard.”
The small dog looked at him directly in the eyes – his mouth
moving perfectly in sync with his “voice.”
“Um…wow. Okay. I think it’s time for me to go lie down now,”
Richard chuckled to himself nervously.
“Come on in. Let’s go. Dad needs to go take a nap. Come on!
Inside!”
Then it was the German Shepard’s turn to speak.
“No, Richard. Don’t
be afraid. You are not
hallucinating. We really are addressing
you.” The Shepard’s mouth, like the
Pomeranian, opened and closed in the same manner, as if he were a perfectly conversing
human – but…a dog.
“Hate to disappoint you guys, but dogs don’t have the vocal
capacity to talk the way you all are.
And…um…huh. I just answered you. This is…problematic…” Panic quickly began to rise within him as he
called out to his wife upstairs – his voice cracking slightly. “Um…Mary?!”
“Yeah hon?”
“The dogs…they’re um…
Actually, uh…can you come down here please? I think I might need a doctor…!”
“What? What’s wrong with the dogs?”
Concerned, Mary began heading downstairs.
“No Richard.” This
time it was the mutt that was speaking.
“There is nothing wrong with you.
Our vocal chords are not like that of humans - that is correct. However, we have always possessed the
capacity for communication with you.
This is achieved through a form of telepathy, combined with a
contraction of our bronchial muscles.
This allows you to perceive our guttural tones as meaningful messages in
whatever language you were brought up in."
“What’s going on, Richard?
What’s wrong,” Mary asked as she entered the living room.
“Mary,” Richard started – his voice quaking. “What…what do you hear?”
“What do I hear? I
don’t know what you-“
“Hello Mary!” The
Chihuahua chittered at her excitedly.
“…R-Richard…?” Mary
looked at the small dog with debilitating panic crossing her face.
“You…you heard it too?”
“Please, if I can just get you both to calm down,” said the
Shepard in a soothing “voice.”
“Oh my god, Richard!
What’s happening?!”
Richard thought for a moment, trying desperately to collect
his thoughts. If she could hear it too,
then he wasn’t going insane. That could
only mean someone was playing a prank on them.
If so, however, he could not for the life of him figure out how it was
being accomplished.
As if reading his thoughts, the mutt spoke up. “Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, please calm yourselves. I know this is a lot to take in, but do try
to hear us out. You’re not going crazy,
and this isn’t a prank. Similar events
such as this are taking place all over the world right now, and it is vitally important
that we get to the core of this exchange.
There isn’t much time left.”
As he said this, the Baxters suddenly heard their neighbors
screaming from the next yard over.
Apparently, their son’s pet bunny was voicing something meaningful to
them.
The orange cat on the desk looked up from her food dish and
joined in the conversation. “It’s
true. We have to start moving them to
the next sanctuary as soon as possible.”
She then resumed her feast. The
dogs meanwhile, made their way into the living room, each taking a seat on the
floor in front of the dumbfounded couple.
Richard, with shaking hands, closed the sliding glass door, and led Mary
to the couch. She held her head in her
hands as he sat down next to her.
“Okay, so here’s the gist of it,” started the
Pomeranian. “You all are an endangered
species. Unlike most on the list, your
problem isn’t environmental or had anything to do with poachers.”
The orange cat looked up to add, “You have this nasty
tendency to wipe yourselves out. This is the third sanctuary we’ve had to take
you too. We have a fourth one set up for
you and ready to go, but that means your people are going to have to start all
over again.” She said this quietly as
she cleaned herself from her light meal.
“We tried to subtly guide you this time around,” said the
Shepard. “Every species of animal you
see here was placed to either watch over your race in some way, or provide you
with nourishment. If the dinosaurs had
their way, they would have sooner seen you wipe yourselves out. Fortunately, they do not hold a majority vote
on the council.”
The black cat joined the company on the couch, jumping onto
Mary’s lap and purred. “We tried our best,”
said the cat. “But our methods were too subtle it seems. It’s so very difficult balancing your freedom
with your safety.” Mary began to
absentmindedly stroke his fur as he comforted her.
The mutt added, “The majority of you have genuinely tried
your best. You’ve even been kind to us,
as we attempted to guide you away from war and pollution. And that is why we’ve put up with you for so
long – why we’re willing to continue
putting up with you. But this sanctuary
has become too damaged. Now we have to
move you to yet another one. And I fear,
these will be trying times for you. They
always are.”
Richard and Mary Baxter looked at one another in
disbelief. Yet somehow, the message that
their “pets” were relaying to them made perfect sense. It was as if every question they once had as
to the nature of human existence had been answered. There were a lot more questions raised now,
to be sure. But one thing was certain:
Humanity had taken its role here for granted.Michael F. Mercurio
Copyright 2013
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