News of Dr. Anastasius’ pending retirement was greeted with alarm by his long-standing customers. Would he sell his business to a young upstart fresh out of veterinary school, to a heartless franchise populating the local malls or to someone like himself, someone who had a way with animals? You could sense Dr. Anastasius’ special gift in the waiting room, where an unusual calm prevailed, even among the aged dogs, house-bound cats and caged birds awaiting their turn. The local paper ran a tribute to him. The Mayor honored him with a framed plaque. When the doors finally opened on the new veterinarian’s office, Dr. Anastasius’ loyal crop of customers withheld judgement, despite the evident lack of good vibes or thoughtful service. That is, until the new Vet labeled a frightened rescue cat “bad”. That’s when all hell broke loose.

Fads come and go. They bubble up, sweep everyone away in their Power of Now and then gather dust in a pile destined for the next yard sale. Maybe you remember isolation tanks? Did you ever take a float? Well, I did. Actually, I did it a lot. To be perfectly frank I’m still taking weekly floats. I find it helps me unwind, like two martinis without the hangover. Last week, whilst floating I had a clear memory, an image of the world from the moist, loamy perspective of a mushroom. I could feel the cool spring air. The struggle to push up through the dank layer of dead leaves into another medium. As the salty warm water washed over my thighs, I clung tight, savoring my progression from slug and earthworm to a choice edible.

(Photo: Tim Duch)

My Dad had a deep, gravely voice and so when he used to tell me that I was destined for greatness I believed him. Actually, he was even more specific. He said that the fate of the world could very well rest on my able shoulders. Now, that’s not an easy thing to live up to, especially given my size and the fact that I am slave to my instincts. But, to be fair, aren’t we all? The cold compost heap that I had consigned my family to throughout the long and insufferable winter dampened our spirits and our disposition. When spring finally broke, I was determined to find us a more snug habitation for the coming winter. That’s a hard thought to hang onto all summer long, but I did. I found us a place where a nest of hard material, a bit like my favorite, fallen branches, held in the heat. It seemed like paradise. No family members went missing. Food was plentiful. One of my more clever offspring discovered first the garbage, then the cafeteria. Bonanza! The problem is we need to chew. We must. Otherwise our teeth grow into our brains and we die. Having nothing else to chew on we started gnawing on what I thought were twigs but had energy running through them. And so we chewed. And chewed. The last thing I remember was a brief flash of sunshine and then darkness.