Houdini

Baldwin yawned.  He watched the morning activities with half-closed eyes, for there in the crabapple tree sat Houdini, a brilliant, young gray squirrel.  Baldwin could hear him quietly calculating the distance from the tree branch to the top of the bird feeder.  Sure, Houdini could eat the spilled sunflower seeds that had accumulated on the ground, but today he decided to see if his math computations were correct, and whether of not he could actually land on the bird feeder and eat along side the birds.

“Hey, you guys, can I join you at the feeder today?  Can I come over, please, please?”  Houdini asked eagerly, but the song sparrows and the house finches only ignored his incessant pleas, and Mr. Cardinal lifted his red crest to show he was a bird of prominence and that he had no desire to eat along side a young unmannerly squirrel no matter how smart he was reputed to be. 

“Well, okay.  Here I come—make room for me,” said Houdini as he twitched his scraggly tail and prepared to jump, but the birds only ignored him.  They continued their chatter while cracking open the hard shell of the sunflower seeds and eating the delicious treats inside.

Suddenly the entire world seemed to spin and shake, and in much fright, the birds flew into the safety of the tree.  “Woo, hoo—oooops,” shouted Houdini as he landed on top of the bird feeder, but then began to slip.  He managed to save himself while waiting for the spinning to stop. 

Baldwin sat up to get a better look.  What he saw was a gray squirrel hanging from the feeder by nothing more than his toenails.  “Ha, ha! What a super fun ride,” laughed Houdini.  “Hey, where did you guys go?” he asked, as he began to stuff his mouth with sunflower seeds.

Baldwin Meets the Law

Baldwin scurried under the front porch steps when the dogcatcher’s black van pulled into the driveway.  He was rather curious about why the dogcatcher should come visit his house, since not a single dog lived there.

A skinny man wearing a red cap with the initials ACC stepped out from behind the steering wheel and spit a long brown stream of tobacco juice onto the ground just barely missing the newly planted marigolds that lined the walkway.  He wiped his chin on his sleeve as he made his way up the steps to the front door and rang the doorbell . . . bbrringgg.

After only a few seconds, the door opened.  “Yes, may I help you?” said the human mother.  Baldwin stayed silent, for he wanted to hear every word that transpired.  “Yes, Ma’am,” said the skinny man.  His speech was a bit unclear, since it was difficult to talk with that large wad of tobacco bulging in his left cheek.  “My name is Mr. Rorre.  I’m from Animal Control Center.  Yesterday, we got some complaints about your cat, Baldwin. 

“Neighbors talk about him roaming the neighborhood and looking in their windows.  Even Mrs. Bees, the minister around the corner, complained that he picked a fight with her ol’ cat, Thelma.  I’m here to tell ya that we’ve captured that little fella, and now, he’s serving time at the pound.” 

 

Baldwin had heard enough; he felt insulted and knew exactly what to do.  He meowed very loudly as he came out of hiding, “What?  Me? Fighting with old Thelma?  What an absurdity!  And I won’t even comment about roaming!”  He then ran swiftly past the man into the safety of his house.  Mr. Rorre was so surprised, that he swallowed a bit of his tobacco.  He coughed, sputtered and gagged while turning a shade of green. 

“I best be going, Ma’am,” Mr. Rorre exclaimed quickly after he regained his voice.  “I believe what we’ve got here is a case of mistaken identity; please accept my forgiveness.  I’ll tell the Reverend Bees that the suspect at the Animal Control Center ain’t Baldwin, cause he ain’t no bully after all.” 

The human mother began to laugh, “Why thank you, Mr. Rorre.  You know, Baldwin hasn’t the time to fight, since he is much too preoccupied with sleeping, eating and bird watching.”  Baldwin sighed with relief as he heard the black van pull out of his driveway.  He nestled down into his pillow for a nap.  “Bless my dear mother; she knows me so well.”  

Baldwin visits Bishop, Georgia

Baldwin was sitting on a bench in Bishop, Georgia when suddenly, five large trucks, hauling their loads, zoomed past him loudly, rushing through the quaint, little town without seeing.  Frightened from the unexpected noise, Baldwin dashed into a nearby pottery studio, where a potter was busy shaping dark clay into a bowl. 

Baldwin watched unseen.  He must suggest to his human mother to purchase a new bowl from which he might eat his cat food.  He was certain that if his meals were served in a one-of-a-kind ceramic dish, glazed in his favorite blue, he would not complain if dinner were late.  “Well,” he meowed in a whispered voice, “I might complain just a little.”  He licked his whiskers and quietly went outside leaving behind the sound of the turning pottery wheel. 

Baldwin ran toward the folk-art shop where he was greeted in the yard by a rooster standing tall and bold.  His red comb crowned his head as he proudly displayed his brilliantly colored feathers of blue and red.

Baldwin quickly introduced himself, and paid the rooster such a nice complement, that he was certain he had gained a friend.  Baldwin was soon disappointed though, for the rooster answered not a word.  The large bird did not even blink an eye as he silently stood guard over the array of art on display. 

Classic Taste

Baldwin was glad to be visiting his favorite Aunt Agnes while his human mother was traveling out of town.  He ventured out into the misty rain of the early evening, and lifted his nose into the air to breathe deeply of the city’s scents.  “I believe I detect the smell of bacon and eggs.  Oh such a delightful fragrance. Yes, it is nice to be in the city again.” he meowed.

Baldwin was watchful of cars and people as he walked down Washington Street, for he did not want anyone to assume that he was lost.  He knew exactly where he was going, and his stomach was rumbling with the thought of great food.  

 He ran until he reached the familiar lights of one of his favorite restaurants, then stopped as he entered the establishment’s outside dining area.  The patio chairs were leaning against the tables, and the tables were wet from the light rain; everyone was inside, and the place was packed. 

He sat down on the wet ground and began to meow loudly, for he wanted to be noticed over the noise of the crowd.  Shortly, he heard a little girl speak up and say, “Look at the kitty, mommy.  He’s getting wet.  I bet he’s starving too.  Can I give him the rest of my pizza?”  “All right, dear.  But don’t get too close to him; you never know, but he might be a little wild,” responded the mother.

Baldwin’s ears picked up the entire conversation, and he meowed back in protest, “For heaven’s sake, lady, do I look like a wild cat?”  So he stood up and lifted his head high to show anyone who wished to see that he had on a bright red collar.  But of course, the humans could not understand his language, so all they heard was Baldwin’s incessant meowing.

The little girl ran out onto the patio and set her plate down at Baldwin’s feet, then ran back to her mother, and they both watched to see what he would do.  Baldwin sniffed the food, took a little nibble, and then proceeded to eat.  “Wow, this is fantastic!  I taste bacon and egg on this pizza as well as fresh basil and mozzarella; this is delicious.  I must be in heaven!” he meowed with joy.

He stopped to lick his whiskers and caught sight of the little girl sitting on her mother’s lap.  They were obviously talking about him, for she pointed at him as both mother and daughter smiled.  “No,” said Baldwin, “this is not heaven; this is Athens, Georgia.”