Rebellation

Three little monkeys swinging in a tree
Teasing Mr. Alligator, "Can't catch me!"
Along came Mr. Alligator, quiet as you please
SNAP! went Mr. Alligator.

Two little monkeys swinging in a tree
Teasing Mr. Alligator, "Can't catch me!"
Along came Mr. Alligator, quiet as you please
SNAP! went Mr. Alligator.

One little monkey swinging in a tree
Teasing Mr. Allig-SNAP!

So I was laying in bed last night looking up at the bare naked ladies, when I heard a tap-tap on my window. I wasn't afraid though, because it's November, and nothing bad happens in November.

I turned my head a little to the left and there on the outskirts of my peripheral vision was a little sparrow fluttering madly to catch my attention. I slid the window open just a tad and said in that voice we use only when talking to dogs and small children, "Oh, little fellow, are you ok?" not really expecting a reply because I'm not, after all, crazy.

And much to my great surprise, he answered in a voice as deep as James Earl Jones. "First," he said, "why are you talking like I'm a baby? And close your mouth; it isn't polite to gape."

"Oh my gosh!" I said in my normal voice with a slightly higher range than usual. Well, it isn't every day a sparrow talks to you in a booming voice, now is it? "I'm so sorry! I had no idea you were a fully-grown sparrow, you look so...petite!"

He didn't seemed consoled, not a whit, mind you. "Hey, I've got lady friends in the trees. Do you think you could ix-nay on the etite-pay?"

"Oops, sorry. Love the voice, it's so t(h)rillingly deep."

"Very funny, fluff. Could we get to the matter at hand?"

"Oh yes, certainly! What's got your wings all a-flutter?" I said.

"Well," says he, "there's a harsh winter coming and I wondered if you could help us out by hanging a bit of soot-n-seed in the trees to take the chill off on a cold and deary night? We lost a lot of friends a few years back when the weather was so nasty, and I thought you seemed like the kinda person who might give a shit."

"Oh, I am, I am! And I would be happy to help, I'll start making soot balls right away. But how do you know my name?"

"The rabbit told me."

Now, see, here's the thing: every night when I get home from work, a rabbit runs across the driveway. Every night. From left to right, downhill to up. A few years ago, I held my hand on the ground in front of a baby rabbit, and it walked right into it to let me snuggle it a bit before placing it strategically under a lavender bush where a keen-eyed hawk would have trouble seeing it. Perhaps it's the same one and considers me its significant something.

"Well, then, there you go!" I said.

"Hey, thanks, we appreciate it. By the way, you like storms, don't you?"

"Why yes, I do! Why do you ask?"

"There's gonna be one in a few minutes. Lightning, thunder and a smidge of rain."

"Cool, thanks Mr. Sparrow! I'll stay up and watch!" and I closed the window as the first flash lit the sky and painted birch and aspens on my bedroom wall.

I laid in bed then, watching the strikes - there were only a few before the benedryl hit me right between the eyes. I fell, landing on the loveliest bed of leaves only to be yanked off again by a rude little monkey. He grabbed me by the tail and lifted me roughly off the ground to dangle and sway until I thought I would sick up. I hung there for a moment getting my wits about me, then twisted and curled (I've been doing stomach crunches, so this is much easier than it was a few months ago) to swipe his hairy forearm with a paw of partially-sheathed claws.

He howled then, and dropped me, and I landed on all fours as agile kittens do. Then he swung himself higher up in the tree to squat in a ridiculous fashion on a birch branch and suck his well-deserved scratches. He kept looking my way, though, and growling at me in a sulky fashion, occasionally chittering indignantly under his breath. I can't be certain, but I think he said something like, "stupid cat!" Then he dropped from the tree to curl up just out of claws' reach, and we peacefully slept until our alarms bleated 7 a.m.