RICH RITTER: 2018

by Rich Ritter

My name is Tina, and I want to tell you a story about my cat, Smokey. Sadly, I’m a grownup now, and we buried Smokey beneath the boughs of a giant spruce tree by the beach a long time ago. But when I was seven-years-old and could still talk to the animals who lived near my house, they told me this story. When I think of the story now, it seems too fantastical to believe. But I know in my heart that the story is true because the ravens told me it really happened. As did the squirrel. And the pudgy little mouse who lived in the woodpile. I’ve never shared the story with anyone. You will be the first. I really hope you like the story, but more importantly, I hope you believe it as much as I do, because the animals told me it was true.

♦ ♦ ♦

Smokey was a fraidy cat. He was afraid of the vacuum cleaner. He was afraid of the water sound in the shower. He was afraid of the barking dogs that lived in the house tucked into the hillside across the road. He was afraid of the screeching eagles who used razor-sharp talons to snag salmon in the channel. He was afraid of snow when it fell off the roof and thumped on the ground below. But mostly, he was afraid to go into the dark forest that surrounded the house. He tried it once, a few years ago, but that was the last time.

But, surprisingly, Smokey was not without friends. Sometimes, when the sun shined, which was not often, he found the courage to venture onto the deck that overlooked the beach below. His best friend, Squeaky Squirrel, often visited him when he did this, and usually brought his best spruce cone to share, even though Smokey only pretended to eat it. Two glossy black ravens, named Big Raven and Smaller Raven, often glimpsed the activity on the deck and swooped down to join the fun. And a pudgy little mouse, whose name was Pudgy Little Mouse, upon hearing the flapping wings of the ravens and the chattering of the squirrel, usually scurried up from her nest in the wood pile on the beach to hear the gossip of the day. If the meeting took place during the summer, a pair of Rufous Hummingbirds, who preferred to be called Mr. and Mrs. Hummer (rather than Mr. and Mrs. Rufous), often hovered over the activity on the deck as long as they could before darting off to find a nice flower with lots of nectar or, better yet, a sparkling hummingbird feeder with fresh sugar water.

One Friday afternoon, during a period of overcast skies and light rain, Squeaky chirped to the ravens in his squeaky little voice, “It is a shame that Smokey is such a fraidy cat and will never join us in for a walk in the forest or a picnic on the beach. It is truly a shame. I wish we could do something about it.”

Big Raven said, “I agree. We should help Smokey to not be a fraidy cat.”

Smaller Raven said, “A walk in the forest does not interest me, but I do love a picnic on the beach, especially on a nice day.” She tilted her head. “As far as I can tell, Smokey has been a fraidy cat forever. What could we possibly do to help him?”

Squeaky’s bushy tail vibrated a few dozen times and he chirped, “I would also like to invite Smokey to my nest so that I can show him where I live and give him more spruce cones to eat, but he is such a fraidy cat I don’t see how we could ever help him to not be a fraidy cat.”

The three were pondering and discussing how to help Smokey, when Pudgy Little Mouse arrived. She listened for a while, then suggested, “What if we asked Smokey to go down to the beach to do something very important, something that only he could do? Something that would prove to him and everyone else that he is not a fraidy cat?”

No one had really noticed, but Mrs. Hummer had arrived and was hovering above the meeting and only buzzing a little when she moved about. She chose to listen instead of saying anything because hovering took a lot of energy all by itself.

Squeaky, intrigued but not convinced, asked, “Like what? Smokey would never go down to the beach because he’s terrified of the eagles. Whenever we’re visiting on the deck and an eagle screeches nearby, he disappears into the house in the blink of an eye, which is a very short time for a squirrel.”

Big Raven, who was known for his cleverness, felt a clever idea pop inside his small but impressive brain. “I think you’ve given me a clever idea, if I don’t mind saying so myself. He’s afraid of eagles, so let’s work with that idea. Did you know I can mimic an eagle’s screech? Even the eagles think I’m an eagle when I do it. Would you like to hear it?”

Squeaky, who was not terribly fond of eagles himself, shuddered at the thought. “No thanks for me. I’ll take your word for it. What is your clever idea, and why do I care if you can shriek like an eagle?”

Big Raven cocked his head in a raven sort of way and smiled, although it’s hard to imagine how a beak can smile. “What do you think of this? Let’s tell Smokey that Pudgy Little Mouse must travel a great distance along the beach to visit her sick mother. Let’s tell him that he’s the only one who can take Pudgy, and that he has to do it right away because Pudgy’s mother is very sick indeed.”

Smaller Raven frowned, although it is also hard to imagine how a beak can frown. “Smokey would never go down to the beach. He’s a fraidy cat, and he’s afraid of eagles. Remember? And what exactly is it that Pudgy Little Mouse’s mother is sick of?”

Pudgy Little Mouse squeaked, “But my mother’s not sick.”

Big Raven said, “That’s not the point.”

Squeaky asked, “Then what is the point?”

Mrs. Hummer finally spoke. “I agree with Squeaky. What is the point?”

Big Raven reminded everyone, “The point is I can make a sound like an eagle. Are you sure you don’t want to hear it? It’s really scary. Even the eagles—”

Squeaky interrupted, “No thanks. I already told you I would pass.”

Smaller Raven said, “I’ve heard it, and it is very realistic.”

The discussion raged on for nearly an hour—in squirrel time that is—until the friends finally hammered out a plan. Although everyone agreed that the plan was not perfect, they also agreed that it was better to execute a pretty good plan sooner rather than a really perfect plan later. The plan would require the following steps:

Tell Smokey that Pudgy Little Mouse’s mother is very sick, and might die of whatever it is she is sick of any time now.

Tell Smokey that Pudgy Little Mouse would like to visit her mother as soon as possible, just in case she dies of whatever it is she is sick of.

Convince Smokey that he is the only one with enough speed and agility to safely deliver Pudgy Little Mouse to the home of her sick mother, who lives in a hollow log quite far down the beach.

Explain to Smokey that it should be a perfectly safe trip because the eagles have likely flown north to look for salmon by the river. No one really knew if this was true or not, but it was an important part of the plan to convince Smokey to make the trip.

When Smokey carries Pudgy Little Mouse on his back to see her sick mother, Big Raven will fly out of the forest and swoop down on Smokey and Pudgy Little Mouse and make his eagle screeching sound—which he has promised is quite amazing and even the eagles think he’s an eagle when he does it—to make Smokey think he is in real danger when actually he is not.

After Smokey completes this incredible journey with Pudgy Little Mouse, everyone will tell him how brave he is and he will finally realize that he is not a fraidy cat after all. Then everyone can celebrate with a picnic on the beach, because Smaller Raven is not interested in a walk in the forest.

There you have it. Not a perfect plan, but likely good enough.

A few days later, when Smokey had dared to venture onto the deck to find a nice sun spot next to one of the white plastic chairs spaced around the white plastic table, Squeaky jumped from a nearby tree branch to the top of the railing right above Smokey.

Squeaky said, “Good morning Smokey. Nice day to lounge on the deck. Not too hot, and a little breeze to rustle the trees. And I see that you’ve found a nice sun spot!”

Initially startled, Smokey said, “Yes, it is. And I have found a nice sun spot. But for some reason that I do not understand, these sun spots never stay in the same spot for long. I may have to move to a different sun spot in a while. One can never predict what will happen.”

Squeaky waited a few seconds before speaking again. “I heard that Pudgy Little Mouse’s mother is very sick.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Actually, I heard that she’s so sick that she could die any time. I also heard that Pudgy Little Mouse would like to visit her, before her mother might die from whatever it is she is sick of, but Pudgy is very sad because she has no way to get there.”

Smokey licked his paw and used it to clean his face (although one could argue that he was merely coating his face with cat spit). “Why doesn’t she have any way to get there? Can’t she just walk along the beach like everyone else?” Smokey was not really sure how everyone else walked along the beach, but he thought it was a good suggestion.

Squeaky said, “Because she lives a long way from here in a hollow log on the beach, and it is too far for Pudgy Little Mouse to walk because she is…that is to say…she is…sort of…well, pudgy. I suppose Pudgy could try to lose some weight to make the trip possible, but who knows how long that would take. And then what would we call her? Little Mouse just doesn’t have the same ring to it, if you ask my opinion.”

Smokey stretched in the nice sun spot and then rolled slightly to track the movement of the sun (although he had not yet figured out why the sun moved). “Why don’t you ask Big Raven to fly her there? I’ve seen Big Raven carry a bag of French fries all the way to his nest without dropping a single fry. And I’m pretty sure Pudgy Little Mouse does not weigh more than a bag of fries, even if she is sort of pudgy.”

Squeaky flicked his tail. “I thought of that myself (although he really hadn’t and had to think fast). But what if Big Raven accidentally dropped Pudgy Little Mouse and she landed nose-first on a sharp rock? You claim he’s never dropped a single fry, but what if he has and you just weren’t around to see it? After all, you don’t get out all that often.”

Smokey said. “If Pudgy landed on her bottom in a skunk cabbage she would probably survive. But I see your point about a sharp rock, especially if she landed nose-first.”

Squeaky rubbed his chin. “What if you took Pudgy Little Mouse to visit her sick mother before she dies of whatever it is she is sick of?”

Smokey twitched. “Me? You’re asking me to take Pudgy Little Mouse to see her mother?”

“Yes, I’m asking you.”

“Are you sure her mother is really sick?”

“Yes, she is very sick, and as I have explained to you, she might die very soon of whatever it is she is sick of.”

“But that would mean walking through the dark forest to the beach and traveling out in the open a long way from the safety of my home where the eagles fly down and snatch fish from the water with their sharp talons. Have you ever seen the eagles snatch fish with their sharp talons? It is a horrific sight to be sure. There is no way I can do it. It already gives me the shivers to even think about it.”

Squeaky ignored the part about the horrific sight of sharp talons. “But if you don’t take Pudgy Little Mouse to visit her sick mother, then how is she going to get there? And if Pudgy’s mother dies while she is trying to lose weight, then what?

Smokey gulped hard. “But the eagles…and the sharp talons…and…and…”

Squeaky grinned a sly little squirrel grin, but it was hard to see because it only lasted the blink of a squirrel eye, which is even shorter than the blink of a cat eye, which is even shorter than the blink of a— “I think they’ve all flown north to look for salmon by the river. I’m nearly sure of it. I even asked the ravens about this and they are pretty sure of it too, because they keep track of these kinds of things. The eagles shouldn’t be any problem at all.”

“What if they come back?”

“They won’t come back.”

“What about bears?”

Squeaky said, “Bears? What kind of bears? I thought you were only terrified of eagles. I didn’t know you were afraid of bears too.”

“What about the dogs? I can hear them barking across the road. What if they run across the road and go down to the beach right when I’m taking Pudgy Little Mouse to see her sick mother?”

Squirrel sighed. “Oh, for goodness sakes. Are you going to help Pudgy Little Mouse visit her sick mother before she dies or not? You have to decide.”

“Can I just pretend we never talked?”

Squeaky patted his hind foot on the railing a few dozen times. “No, you cannot. Will you help Pudgy Little Mouse or not?”

Faced with this choice, Smokey felt he had no choice, which was not really true, because one always has a choice. To avoid any danger, all he had to do was to decide to do nothing, which was in fact one of the possible choices. But doing nothing created other problems. For example, doing nothing might be seen by his other friends as cowardice, or worse, apathy. “Can I think about it for a few weeks?”

Squeaky crossed his arms and frowned. “No. You can think about it for about 10 seconds, because if you think any longer you might hurt yourself.”

Smokey decided to go with his cat gut, which had served him quite well in the past. “Alright. I’ll do it. But I’m already thinking about the eagles. And the dogs too. Oh, and don’t forget the bears.”

Squeaky clapped his tiny paws. “Fantastic. I knew you’d come through! Pudgy Little Mouse will be so happy.”

Immediately regretting his decision, Smokey sighed. “Now that I’ve made this stupid decision, what’s next?”

“Meet us on the beach, tomorrow morning after dawn, down by the tree where the dog’s ashes are buried, by the little stone shaped like a heart. You can’t miss it.”

Startled by the thought of going down to the beach in broad daylight, Smokey coughed up a hair ball. Still searching for an excuse to avoid the task, he asked, “What if the butler or the maid are not awake to open the door?” This was not really a good excuse because Smokey had never asked either one of them to open the door in the past, although he had thought about it a few times just to test their loyalty.

Squeaky winked. “That’s easy. Use the cat door, the one you’ve only used once, or maybe twice. I can show you where it is if you don’t remember. I’m pretty sure the ravens can show you where it is too.”

Smokey plopped down on his white paws. “I guess I’ll see everyone down on the beach tomorrow morning.” A blurry image of sharp, snatching talons immediately flashed across his vision, followed by two dogs and a bear.

Squeaky chirped, “Pudgy Little Mouse will be so happy! Don’t be late.”

♦ ♦ ♦

The next morning broke cool and sunny. It took Smokey a few minutes to find the courage to force himself through the cat door (which was a bit tight because he had gained a little weight since the last time he’d used it), then a few minutes more to overcome his fear and walk to the edge of the dark forest, then even a few more minutes to ignore the little voice screaming in his cat brain to turn back or die, then one minute more to trot down the trail to the beach. When he finally arrived, everyone was waiting for him—except Big Raven, which seemed odd.

Smokey tried his best to speak without showing any fear. “Where’s Big Raven? I thought everyone was going to meet me here?”

Smaller Raven offered a near-truthful explanation, which she figured was not wrong given the plan everyone had agreed to. “He had a little errand to run, or should I say fly, and couldn’t join us this morning. He sends his regrets.”

Squeaky quickly changed the subject. “Ready to take Pudgy Little Mouse to see her mother? I know she’s eager to get started.”

Pudgy Little Mouse flicked her long mouse tail. “I can hardly wait. I’m ready to go.” Then she added, a bit too dramatically, “…to see my very sick mother before she might die of whatever it is she is sick of very soon.”

Smokey attempted one last excuse to avoid the trip. “How am I supposed to carry Pudgy Little Mouse to see her mother? I have no way to hold her and run at the same time.” Feeling a shiver crawl up his back when he thought of the eagles, he added, “Maybe we should rethink this whole idea before someone gets hurt, or worse.”

Pudgy Little Mouse scurried onto Smokey’s back and grabbed the fur behind his ears with both little paws. “No worries. I’ll hang on tight. You’ll see.”

Smokey sighed because he had run out of excuses. Crestfallen, he said, “Then I guess there’s nothing stopping us now,” and he finished the rest of the sentence in his cat brain so that no one could hear: from running down the beach in broad daylight where an eagle will snatch the both of us with sharp talons and tear us to shreds with its sharp beak before feeding us to an eaglet, or maybe two eaglets.

Squeaky jumped and waved. “Time to go! Have a safe trip!”

Mr. and Mrs. Hummer buzzed their excitement.

Smaller Raven squawked, “Yes, time to go! We’ll be waiting for you when you return!”

With all of his friends now waving goodbye, and a cloud of gloom settling just above his ears (although only Smokey could see it), he took a deep breath and started off. At first, with the sun warming his whiskers and the fresh sea smells tickling his nose, he began to think this wasn’t all that bad. He heard the sounds of seagulls in the distance, which at first alarmed him, but then he decided that he liked the sounds of seagulls. Something rustled in the trees to the left, but it turned out to be a small porcupine climbing up a tree. The waves surged gently to the right, which was also a soothing sound that helped Smokey relax a little. The sun shimmered pleasantly off the wet rocks at the water’s edge.

Pudgy Little Mouse announced, on cue, because she knew Big Raven was about to make his grand entrance, “Hey, this isn’t so bad after all. All that worry about eagles and there’s not one to be found anywhere. We should make this trip to see my mother again sometime.”

At that moment, when Pudgy had finished her announcement, an ominous shadow crossed Smokey’s path. Then, to his complete horror, an eagle screeched directly above.

Pudgy Little Mouse exclaimed, also on cue, “Oh, my goodness. It’s an eagle! Run Smokey, run!” But at the time, Pudgy Little Mouse thought to herself: Wow, Big Raven really can screech like an Eagle. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that was a real—

Smokey did not look up because he was too afraid to look up. The piercing sound of the eagle was enough to nearly double his heart rate, which was already pretty high, and he instantly began running as fast as he could. The ominous shadow followed Smokey and Pudgy Little Mouse and began growing larger. The eagle screeched a second time and the sound was closer than before.

Pudgy Little Mouse rolled onto her back and looked up. She thought to herself: I must say that I’m impressed. Not only does Big Raven sound like an eagle, he also looks like one. Then her heart rate nearly doubled. She reached back and began steering Smokey by pulling the fur behind Smokey’s ears left and right. She screamed, “Smokey, run faster and turn when I pull on your fur!” She pulled and Smokey zigged right. He pulled again and Smokey zagged left. The eagle swooped down and barely missed snatching Pudgy Little Mouse right off Smokey’s back. The eagle circled around and began a second run. The eagle screeched again and dived at Smokey and Pudgy Little Mouse. Pudgy yanked the fur behind both ears and Smokey immediately stopped in a shower of black sand, causing the eagle to miss by a cat whisker. Pudgy pushed Smokey’s ears forward and he raced ahead again.

The screeching eagle attempted to snatch Pudgy Little Mouse and Smokey three more times, but each time Pudgy managed to steer Smokey away from danger, especially since Smokey was now running and darting as fast as a cheetah. After using a lot of energy without catching anything to eat, the eagle gave up and flew away. Smokey and Pudgy Little Mouse arrived safely at her mother’s home in the hollow log, and she served them tea in tiny little cups and tiny little crumpets with marmalade while they rested from the ordeal of the screeching eagle with the sharp talons. Although exhausted from the ordeal, Smokey was pleased to find that Pudgy’s mother had apparently recovered from her sickness and was doing quite well.

♦ ♦ ♦

About twenty minutes had passed since Smokey and Pudgy Little Mouse had departed to see her mother, who was very sick and might die very soon of whatever she was sick of. Smaller Raven, Squeaky Squirrel, and Mr. and Mrs. Hummer were discussing the importance of keeping their clever plan a secret because if Smokey ever found out about the plan he would probably still think of himself as a fraidy cat for the rest of his nine lives.

Squeaky said, “Yes, I agree completely, because if Smokey ever finds out—”

Smaller Raven finished Squeaky’s sentence, “…about the plan, then all of this work will have been for nothing.”

Mr. and Mrs. Hummer buzzed their agreement enthusiastically.

Squirrel opened his mouth to say something very important, but then did not say anything. Instead, his mouth opened even wider and stayed open because Big Raven swooped down and landed in the middle of the discussion.

Big Raven stretched his wings and settled into a majestic pose. “Sorry I’m late, but on my way here I happened upon a bag of French fries sitting on a picnic table next to a burger and milkshake and got distracted. Although I tried, I could not help myself. Did Smokey and Pudgy Little Mouse already leave?”

♦ ♦ ♦

Because of his friends’ clever plan, which everyone admitted turned out a little differently than anticipated, no one ever again thought of Smokey as a fraidy cat. From that day forward, he was known by all the forest animals, including the dogs who lived across the road, as Smokey the Lionhearted. And Smokey learned an important lesson too. He learned that courage is not the absence of fear; it is instead taking action is spite of fear. Smokey never forgot this lesson, even though he did still hide behind the curtains when the butler started up the vacuum cleaner.

THE END

Rich Ritter at Amazon

Rich Ritter at Author Masterminds

RICH RITTER

Saturday, December 22, 2018

Basketball in Alaska

Monday, November 26, 2018

GUEST POST FOR ALASKA WILDERNESS AUTHOR ROBIN BAREFIELD

Thursday, October 18, 2018

Another Not Yet Famous Quotation

Friday, September 7, 2018

Terrific Review for Heart of Abigail

Author R. Phillip Ritter

Reviewed by Debra Morgan Writer/Reviewer

September 1,2018

Monday, July 23, 2018

SOUTHERN WRITERS MAGAZINE: SUITE T AGAIN!

Monday, May 21, 2018

SOUTHERN WRITERS MAGAZINE: SUITE T

Thursday, February 22, 2018

The Fraidy Cat: A Story for Children

Favorite Links