Wild Mystery Animal

G-R-R-R-R-R-R

When I was married and living in New Hampshire, I only lived fifteen minutes from my married and very pregnant middle daughter, Beth, and her husband, Brian. They were expecting the first of their four children ---my very first grandchild.

Sometime during the latter part of her eighth month I got a frantic early morning phone call from Beth. “Mom? Can you come over?” Did I hear desperation in her voice? I knew Brian was at work, but if this was the baby coming, I had his number and I would call him.

“Beth, what’s wrong, honey? Is it time? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No, I’m fine. The baby isn’t coming, but I need you to come over. I think there’s a wild animal loose in the house. Sometimes, I hear it growling and it’s scaring me.”

“Okay, I’m getting dressed as we speak. Did you see it, or has it come after you?”

“No. I don’t know where it is. I can only hear it. There, Mom! It’s growling again! It’s loud! Can you hear it? Are you coming?” I listened, but I couldn’t hear anything over the phone.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, Bethie. Get on your couch. Stay there and wait for me. I’m leaving now.”

Beth had left her back door open for me and when I went in, I found her still huddled on the couch. I sat and held her as we waited for the animal to growl again so I would know where to start my search.

Fifteen minutes passed, then a half hour. I was beginning to think it had gone out the same way it had come in. “Bethie, I think it’s gone now.”

“G-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R.”

“Mom? You heard that, right? Where is it coming from?”

I heard it all right. It was growling, but from where? It sounded like it was upstairs, maybe in their bedroom. It was something small to medium in size. The growling was deep, a deep resonating rumble, and I could see why she was frightened. I was, too!

“G-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R.”

I got up from the couch. “Mom? Open the coat closet. (pointing) Brian keeps a baseball bat in there and there’s a flashlight on the shelf. Take them with you.”

“How about a pair of heavy gloves?  I may need those, too.”

“Same shelf, Mom, to the right of the flashlight.”

I was halfway up the stairs with thoughts of who I should call if I couldn’t find this … this whatever it was. The dog catcher? Animal Control? I heard a sound and turned to find Beth tip-toeing up the stairs behind me. Neither of us spoke, listening, waiting to hear where the growling was coming from.

“G-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R.”

It was much louder upstairs and it sounded like it was in Beth and Brian’s bedroom. We went in and I motioned for her to get up on the bed while I carefully eliminated all the hiding places —flashlight in one hand, baseball bat in the other: closets, under the bed, under the baby bassinette, changing table … I was running out of places to look. Then we heard it again.

“G-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R.”

Oh my God, the animal was hiding under the dresser! I backed up to the center of the room, got down on my belly and shined the flashlight under the dresser. Hmmm, no glowing eyes, so I got a little closer, still training the beam of light into the dark space. Then I put the flashlight down, edged even closer, and reached my arm over to the opening …

“NO, Mom, NO! Don’t DO that! You’ll get bit! What if it has rabies?”

Ignoring Beth’s warning, and glad for the gloves, I reached under and closed my hand around …

Brian’s forgotten pager?   Good grief … 

I brought it out into the sunlight. It must have vibrated itself off the top of the dresser onto the floor, and then under the dresser. It sounded so loud because it was hollow under there and the vibrations echoed.

My oldest grandson is now in his mid-twenties. Beth’s mysterious wild animal has given us a lot of chuckles over the years, but none so hardy as those we shared between us that morning ...