A light jog in the rain of an average man leads to exploration and discovery of something profound
You just arrived home from work and decide to go for a job, despite the small drizzle near sunset. Out of curiosity, you stop at an old burned down bakery and hear rustling noises in the kitchen area. Its dark and you see something small the chimney area with a grey furry coat and blonde hair. You love animals and want to see if maybe its possible to get closer and discover something that is not of this world.
Don't expect much, its just something I wrote for fun cuddles and adorableness, so I thought I might as well post it here since I already spent 3 hours editing it. I hope you guys enjoy it and wont be a waste of your time.
Grey. Every different shade of grey fills my hometown, for this is the northwest and it is tradition that one should find himself walking in the rain to work when he cannot even afford his own vehicle mode of transportation. Since living in this wet town for all my life, my inner ego has always acted in a state of saturated liquid, and I find myself to rather enjoy the wet rain drops hitting my head. Even though I have a favorite hat to wear, I occasionally welcome them to rest with ease on my scalp. With my bag on my back, I begin the drizzly walk home.
Walks to and from the bus stop are always so peaceful and always in balance whenever there is an absence of sunlight on the creek path I take every morning. Sometimes the moonlight is polite enough to stay up still dawn and guide the path for me on my way to work. As I walk up down the creek trail, I can see the carbon leaving my lungs and collects to the additional fog that surrounds me. With every litter of breath I take, the same amount is given back to Mother Nature’s humid moisture atmosphere as I walk up the path.
It is not the cold itself that I love, but rather its character. Autumn and winter have less and less people walking around in the streets since most do not walk in the mildly uncomfortable cold. This affect produces a gifted and beautiful sound that many do not recognize. It is the sound of absence; the feeling you get when there are no birds chirping or cars driving on a nearby road makes it so silent and that it gets "too" quiet. A sound without a note or key that makes you feel as if you are the only person in existence.
We must be cautious however, as this affect can act as a wolf in sheep's clothing. For someone like me, the silence is a gift and allows me to have all my thoughts to myself, something that is needed occasionally when I am by myself; walking to the bus stop. To some people, this can make you feel isolated, cut off, alone and even depressed. Even worse is when you are cold, alone, hungry and scared. I think a lot about many people and pets who are without a home of comfort, like my cat Obleo. She passed away recently.
When we first met at the local animal shelter, she almost immediately snuggled into my lap and looked like she didn't want me to leave. I was told that she was left alone in an old rusted cage near the lake during a rainy day, without comprehension to me why someone would be so cruel to this sweet kitten. It even pained me more to imagine how many other animals suffered the same fate.
Burying her white fur into my legs, she convinced me that she'd always be by my side, to always be so adaptive at greeting me every single morning as I would rise from the cotton fields of my bed. A belly rub at any given time was more than enough to satisfy her needs. When it came years later that she needed surgery or risk a moderately painful death, I could not afford the coverage.
As much as I’d like to have another pet, it still feels too soon to have happen. Obleo was a constant reminder that no matter how harsh the day was, she would always just pop under my arm and nuzzle away my troubles.
By the time I reached my front door, I let the sensation of room temperature air hit my ears and drop my bag next to the door. Sliding off my boots allowed my hardened feet to touch the soft carpet as I would usually wait 10 seconds for Obleo to come running up to my ankle and greet me, but old habits like this are still hard to break.
I tried to not take it so hard on the day when I had to put her down, but I think it’s taken more of a toll on me than I’ve realized up until now. That comforting sensation of having a companion at the front door when I you arrive home eagerly waiting for you to arrive every 24 hour interval. Yes, that is what I will probably miss most of all. With a sense of urgency, I hurried to change into my cold weather running gear before the rain would stop.
I plop my butt on the couch and slip both running shoes on before tying them. Looking to my right, I expect her to be there, but again, like always, just ended up fooling myself. I am smart enough to know that she really is gone and that nothing I can do will bring her back. They say that ignorant people think highly of themselves while intelligent people tend to sell themselves short of their own capabilities. As far as intelligence goes, any smart person should have something to keep themselves happy.
I had the weekend ahead of me and always wanted to start it off with a good soaking run in the rain with the clouds would provide for me. The soaking always felt so magnificent and there was always enough light in the day to let me explore the old muffin bakery that had just burned down. On my own spare time I like to adventure around the neighborhood. I do it preferably with friends, but wanted to tackle this one on my own.
An article online I read reported a "spontaneous combustion of fire" that broke out in the front of the store and caused almost half of it to burn. Since the owner could not claim proper insurance coverage, it was immediately sold as a fix'er-up'er. It was deemed an accident but no one is truly sure about how it happened.
With keys in my pocket and a black thermal watch cap on my head, I closed the wooden door and jogged down the lowly elevated concrete steps and proceeded west, where a small pocket of the sunset could still be seen. The bakery was on my route as I would circle back east on another road further ahead.
The watch showed 20 minutes of elapsed time into my jog as I was closing in on the preset destination. My cheeks felt so wet and cold to the touch of my fingertips. The hairs on my legs were combed sideways from the wind's brush as I slowed to a fast walking pace, licking the water around my moist lips and heavy breath. The charred front entrance of the crisp bakery was right in front of me. I doubled checked to make sure no one was around since it might be considered trespassing.
When I stepped inside, the floor was surprisingly still intact and decent looking, if you didn’t count the broken glass and wet debris lying around. It felt like a sort of calm and soothing aura all around me, for the most part at least. All around, the floor had dust and dirt spread evenly on the surface, which was when I noticed something about it. There were markings in the dust that appeared to look like animal tracks, but something about them wasn’t quite right.
The way they were spread out gave an impersonation of a cat, but it was the tracks themselves that threw me off. They didn’t exactly show any characteristics of any small animal I’d ever known that embedded a small oval shaped marking about the size of a tennis ball. The closest thing that came to mind was either a tiny elephant or that maybe some kids had tied some shopping bags to a cat’s legs as a practical joke.
What's even more strange was how the tracks just seemed to circle to the front counter and then around the side back behind the counter to the door where they had originated. Across the back wall to the left of the register counter were half a dozen empty bran muffin boxes with one box still sealed.
My first thought was to get a free box of muffins, with a spring in my arms to go lift it up, but reluctant only to find a chewed out hole along the corner and a trail of muffin crumbs leading further back into the store. That’s when I heard it; a soft rustling sound coming from what I assume would be the kitchen area. Was I not alone? Curiosity would always get the better of me as I softly advanced my sneakers around the counter.
Just as I took my first step through the door, there it was again; a soft disturbance of rummage in some corner. My ears weren't able to tell at first if it was just the wind dancing with some newspaper article or if something living was inside. It became darker and colder the further I went in, with the only light source available coming from the standing cloudy daylight by the door and the few white patches in the roof I assume were due to fire damage.
I could hear the movement coming from an old fashion stone and brick oven, but nothing in the room could assist me to see what might be breathing in there. The lights wouldn't turn on and there didn't seem to be any near-by windows.
Moving closer towards the sound of the disturbance, I saw more and more twitches in the oven. When my body was no more than 3 feet away, there was a sudden jump inside the oven, which made me flinch a little too but didn’t convince me enough to be scared. With the assistance of the glow coming from the brick chimney above the oven, I could make out what appeared to be some small cat sized animal hiding underneath old newspapers and a table cloth. From the shivering cold body, it looked so startled and possibly even frail.
Once my eyes were fully adjusted, I could now see that there was in fact something rustling under the covers with the help of the chimney light shining dully on the cat-sized lump. My heart rate stayed above normal levels and my inner soft ego tempted me to reach out and try to touch it and instinctively raised my hand. I really wanted to know just what was under there, but then froze stiff when my hand reached out just an inch away to touch the cloth. All I could see was the accelerated nervous shaking, curled up and scared. It was almost unbearable to see, because I could tell then and there just how terrified it must’ve been. Slowly and quietly backing off, I did not want to seem like more of a threat to the little thing.
Planting a seat on the floor against the wall near the doorway, I would instead wait to see if he or she would want to poke its head out. It was vague luck but I had nothing better to do with my time. Letting the battery acid in my veins settle and tight muscles relax, I stared blankly around the corners of the kitchen.
It felt like an empty seashell in there, except for the one peculiar area. To my left preferal vision, more than a dozen muffin wrappers were littered all over the ground near the stove. It occurred to me that this was indeed a smart creature, who knew how to eat in such a notional matter that it actually surprised me. I can’t honestly say I’ve ever come across an animal with a degree of manners.
I always remember mom bringing me a muffin after kindergarten school, sometimes even with a glass of milk. On cold days like today, she’d substitute the milk with hot chocolate. The sensation of food dreaming made me hungry at that moment. My legs made without haste to see if there were any of those muffins left in that one box. The Hanson and Gretel trail lead me back to the chewed open box as I carefully placed it on the table and lifted the tape off the lid. No luck what-so-ever.
With a soft sigh, I wiped the sweat off my brow before walking back into the seashell. Upon re-entering however, I froze in sight of something by the oven. Something did in fact come forward as I could see a few locks of hair sticking out the corner of the oven, but still unable to fully make out just what it was. I may be mistaken, but I could’ve sworn I saw blonde hair, kind of like mine but with more maple autumn maple leaf yellow to it. I’m sure we were both just as curious about each other.
For now, I felt it be best to just reside by the doorway again and just give her the necessary space. Any animal lover such as myself would know by instinct that a frightened little animal would’ve not wanted to be touched by some giant Neanderthal. My back pressed against the wall with a sigh of relief from the tension I had been unaware of up until this point, like it was invisible to me that I had stopped breathing through my mouth until I sat down. My heart rate still hadn't settled down yet as more carbon exhaust from my body clouded in front of my vision.
More than a few minutes of pure stillness passed by with an occasional sign of movement in the newspapers, almost as if she was slowly creeping up to see if I was still there. Judging by the number of clouds still swaying overhead, it wasn't going to get any brighter today. I didn’t want to cause any sort of disturbance to her shelter, fearing to cause more unwanted fright. Instead, I would just sit there and see if curiosity would get the better of her.
I could hear the streams of water flow through the still standing gutters of the bakery. A miniature waterfall of overflowing precipitation could be seen near the top corner of the barred up windows. Despite the cold weather outside, it felt very humid all around the walls from the inside, maintaining its dryness while keeping out the moisture. Perhaps it was the whole reason why she had chosen to stay in such a place. Dry, quiet and out of the way.
Finally, by the time my legs went stiff, I saw that lock of blonde hair sticking out the side and what I also assumed was an eyeball, but a second look made my vision squint in the imitation of trying to zoom in. Was it the size of the pupils? Still I knew that her face definitely was looking right at me, motionless and still and my expression stood fast. Neither of us moved for what seemed like a timeless minute in another universe. My voice wanted to say something, anything while keeping in mind that I’m wise enough to understand that animals don’t understand the human language. Some habits just come as second nature I suppose.
‘Hello’, I said, which was followed by a quick bob of her head to briefly dash back behind the stone siding of the oven; a typical reaction of surprise to a sudden human noise. There was almost something adorable about it when I thought I heard a tiny squeak as she moved, which further proves that it was definitely a ‘she’. I scooted on the tile floor a couple inches away from the doorway along the wall but retained to respect her own personal bubble. I wouldn’t want to do anything to upset the poor thing, already seeming like such a feeble and timid creature.
Her head came back into sight and would then continue to just stare at me once again. I couldn’t get any closer without scaring her, so that’s when I had a somewhat simple and yet effective trick used a lot for strays. Reaching into my upper weather coat pocket, a small granola power bar was still stowed away from last week and just as fresh; rich in fiber and protein without any chocolate. Maybe all she needed was a little confidence booster.
I knew that she must’ve had more than a few muffins to eat from that box out front, but there was this burning urge of mine to find out if her conscious was capable of trust. Human beings are capable of being gentle and I wanted to see if she could figure that out. It was still unclear to me what she was doing in a shack like this to begin with.
With a simple tearing of the wrapper and another careful approach, I placed a piece of the granola on the ledge of the stone oven. ‘Here you go’, I said, which was replied by her scurrying back underneath the newspapers before I was able to see any part of her. I replaced my spot by the door and carefully settled my head on the plaster wall with an additional mist of carbon leaving my lungs.
More time and more peace went by, but I was content on waiting, filling in that sensation of absence in my mind. I'll never know what compelled me to stay, but something in the back of my cranium told me this was no ordinary animal. She had the capabilities of grabbing food to collect and then eat in one place, much like a squirrel. Above that, she had the young childish instinct to hide under the covers from something scary, like a monster. This was too interesting to pass up on.
I looked at my watch with 41 minutes passed my starting time. Buttons were pressed to check my alarm time I always set to prepare dinner. The insinuating beeping noises my watch produced made her reappear again just as before with only part of her head being visible. Her seemingly cute nose took a few dull silent sniffs of the food I had placed for her, then she looked at me. Did she sense anything? Was she picking up on something from me?
In one foal swoop, her muzzle reached forward and munched on the granola piece to bring it back behind the stone pillar wall. The adorable "nomnomnom" sounds she made put a grin on my face. With enough light, I could see her blonde hair bob up and down as she continued to munch and devour the granola into her sweet tummy. Who knows how long her last meal might've actually been.
With the sound of further silence concluding her finished treat, I slowly proceeded to place another ripped granola piece in the same spot with a looped reaction I would still expect from her, but was then again followed on by the immediate initial sniff from her tiny nose and munchies attack on the defenseless treat. I only had one more piece to share with after the second one, which left me sitting down back in silence. With another granola bar in the same pocket, I wanted to keep that stowed away if this story would unfold itself even more.
My watch couldn't have ran for more than an extra minute until another soft glare from those rounded pupils reflect the chimney's glow. It’s that same familiar face along with that cute stare as if hidden away from this world and yet granted that I am gifted to see them. The grin on my face turned into a smile, which was when I finally saw that leap of courage I had been waiting for this whole time, quite literally.
I could never tell if it was in fact my own smile, but I do remember it being the time that her body began to slowly limp inches closer near the edge and sort of lung forward with a careful drop to the floor. Her body was closer than ever to the light from the doorway I sat next to. Unbenounced to me what I had suddenly began to realize this animal wasn't just a cat or dog. Eyebrows elevated in disbelief and jaw remaining stationary, I was witnessing something truly out of this world.
There was a tiny pony living in a stone brick oven in a burned sweets and treats bakery. A grey coat fur with a blonde mane and tail; two colors I never thought would've ever come together on any sort of furry animal. The approach of her body as she took that first leap onto the hard floor gave me such an impersonation that her body was very ridged yet delicate, being no larger than what I thought was a small house cat but she had such an abnormally sized head for her size. Almost adorable it seemed.
Her light grey coat covered in dust, a partially dripping wet scrawny tail, teacup ears and rounded hooves. She was so tiny and precious to me with that innocent stare I could see standing on all fours while leaning in a bit closer on the fronts of her distinguishable hooves. It wasn't until my pupils fully dilated under concentration that I began to fully observe those eyes. I tried not to gasp at the sight and had to conceal it under my hand. This little filly that stood in front of me has a pair of abnormal googly eyes. I could see so many things inside these eyes. Remaining neutral, I simply smiled at her.
My hand instinctively reached out while my pants were still planted on the ground. At first I thought she wanted to get close enough to smell my fingertips, like when someone’s dog meets you for the first time. Frozen again in this meeting of progress however the little critter just stood there with some sort of recognizable facial expression frown on her face. It was a frown, but then it wasn't just a frown. Like a dog with haste and concern and yet unable to fully register.
After a few more seconds of her standing there about 10 feet away from my sneakers, she took another seat on the ground. Perhaps this was her way of opening up to a stranger. It was easy to respect how close as she willing to get for the time being. Minutes went by as the little filly took a spot on the cold floor with an occasionally cute turning of her head as if unable to make heads up or down of my appearance. I definitely had her attention now.
Without getting up, I decided to open the other granola bar stowed in my opposite coat pocket. Leaned my body slightly over to the left side of where she was sitting, gentle placing a small piece about half-ways between us with her cautiously watching my hand movement. ‘You can have some more’ I whispered. After slowly pulling back to give the filly the desired and more comfortable distance, I saw her pupils grow big and she immediately made the most adorable little pounce I had ever seen. Her mouth instantly nomming on the granola again, but this time like it was alive. It was more than enough to make me giggle a bit at the sight of her satisfaction.
Time went by for us as I broke off more and more pieces of food for her to eat, setting it down almost in front of her and she would move it back a few inches to still keep the distance between us, while still munching so happily on the delicious crunchy treat. I would pause for a moment after every piece she finished to see if she still wanted more, which of course was given by her eyes locked on my hands. All the more reason to assume her stomach is made of iron.
My watch beeped at the 60 minute interval and I was out of food to give. Looking at the tiny pony animal, I softly replied ‘Sorry, I’m all out.’ A slight tilt of the head and puzzled look kept us both in silence. It seemed like this might be the end of our encounter if there was nothing else for me to offer. What would come next however is beyond anything I could think of to give reason or logic.
With a sort once over look, the little grey thing turned her head around and jumped back into her little stove bedding. At first I thought she only wanted food and would go back into hiding since there was no more to receive. I sighed with another grin and was about to get up, but right when I started, she came back with something in her mouth. Carried by her muzzle was a small, untouched and fully edible muffin from within the stove that she set down on the ground and then backing away.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing there. This uncharted cute pony creature was giving me one of her muffins. Was it a peace offering? Maybe she just wanted to share with me since I had shown a little compassion with her. The filly continued to stare at me, as if waiting for me to pick up the muffin. ‘For me?’ I asked. Her mouth gave a smile as a reply. It was definitely a smile.
How could anyone in their right mind pass up on an adorable act of consideration and understanding from this wonderful and sentimental life form? With only a slight hesitation, I kneeled down to pick up the half remaining and still wrapped muffin; bringing it up to my mouth and indulging myself in the wonderful taste. The most wonderful thing about this was that I was not only enjoying a gift from somebody, or somepony rather, it was also my favorite kind of muffin; poppy seed.
After eating the entire thing, I just sat back down and said ‘Thank you,’ by which point I really didn’t know what else to do, except sit there and just look at the filly staring back at me. That small almost cat sized body along with the well-toned grey fur and beach boy blond color in her mane and tail. It was just too adorable for me to handle, and yet I still had to restrain myself from getting any closer or do anything that might frighten her. It was entirely up to her just how close she was willing to get.
