Zook

February 27, 2023

Greetings from the complication,

Helen came into the tiny kitchen and sat at the little table where Ned was already having his coffee.

“Well?” she asked, a bit of an edge in her tone. On top of the usual edge.

Ned looked up, a perplexed look on his face, though to be fair, a look that was fairly common. “Well, what?” he said, not really wanting an answer.

“Are we going to talk about the dinosaur in the room?” Helen said, her finger tapping on the vinyl placemat, punctuating each word.

“I think the phrase is ‘Elephant in the room’ dear,” said Ned, trying to be helpful.

Helen scowled as if she had just drunk orange juice after brushing her teeth. “It’s not a phrase, Ned, you lunk. It’s an actual goldang dinosaur in the goldang room!” She spat these words out, her voice low so the neighbors wouldn’t hear, her left hand now jabbing the air in the direction of Zook.

Zook raised her head, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, her large eyes looking at the two of them. She was curled in the corner of the living room, her fifteen-foot-long tail curled around her. The tip thumped on the floor so hard it rattled the plates in the cupboards.

Ned sipped his coffee and waited to see if Helen had more to say, which she always did.

“This thing is getting out of hand,” she rasped, hissing in her neighbor-proof level. “She is already bigger than you said she’d get. You said she wouldn’t sleep in the house, and now I can hardly get in our own goldang bedroom because she’s snoring at the foot of the bed.”

Ned thought about this image, and smiled at Zook, which just made her thump her tail harder, and vibrated the salt shaker off the counter. Ned had to train Zook not to climb on the bed, which he thought was appreciated, but Helen was hard to impress.

When Ned and Helen went to Spain with the retirees’ group from church, he bought a painted rock he found at an open-air market. Helen chided him at the time, first because it took up room in the suitcase, and second because it was painted gold and ochre, which are ugly enough on their own, let alone painted together on a goldang rock, she said.

A month or so later Ned dropped the rock in the kitchen, discovering it was not a rock at all, but an egg. And that’s when he met Zook. Of course, he didn’t know it was Zook, they named her that later. At the time she just looked like a small monster in their kitchen. Well, that’s how Helen described it to the vet.

They finally chased Zook down and put her in a box that once held Helen’s Neti pot, and took her to the animal clinic in town. The vet, a cheerful woman named Carmen, had told Ned that Zook was a Rhabdodon, which were very rare. Ned was impressed, not only that he had an actual dinosaur, but that Carmen knew what it was. She really was a good vet, and a master of understatement.

Helen was leaning over the little table, telling him: “Sheila, Sheila Reynolds not Sheila Jenkins, told me you brought Zook to the dog park and scared the tar out of all the dogs. Sheila said she was afraid Zook was going to eat her little Pomeranian.”

“She’s not a carnivore,” Ned said, “she won’t eat that dog.” Carmen told them Zook was an herbivore, and for a while, Helen was pleased that Zook helped to take care of all their compost, so they wouldn’t have to put it to the curb. In fact, pretty soon she was eating all the yard waste and potato peelings and watermelon rinds that the neighborhood could gather. Zook that is, not Helen.

Ned pointed out, sensibly it seemed, that Zook got along with every other dog at the park, except the Pomeranian, whose name was Bitsy. Ned didn’t mention that he didn’t like Bitsy either.

“Jeezus Ned,” said Helen, “you don’t know anything about dinosaurs, or dogs. For all you know, they eat plants and Pomeranians too.” Helen drew a big breath. “I’m telling you Ned, something’s going to have to change.”

Thinking often made Ned tired, or bored, but even so, he thought about what Helen said. Living with a dinosaur was complicated, but most interesting things are complicated, as far as Ned could figure out. On the other hand, Helen was not one to welcome complications. He wondered if Helen was right about something having to change.

Ned walked Zook down their street, with a leash because that’s what Helen told him to do, and carried a little bag and shovel, also part of Helen’s directions. He waved to his neighbor Jill, gathering leaves in her yard.

“Hey Ned,” she said, leaning on her rake. “Hey Zook, how’s my girl?”

Zook scampered to that side of the street, the leash nearly pulling Ned off of his feet. Jill reached up and rubbed Zook’s nose, which made her shake her tail. Zook that is, not Jill.

“Morning Jill,” Ned said, trying not to look like Zook was taking him for a walk, instead of the other way around.

She gave him a curious look. “Helen was down here again yesterday telling us about Zook eating dogs. Really Ned? Do we have to put up with that?”

Zook busied herself gobbling up the leaves around Helen’s feet.

“I’m sorry, Jill,” Ned said shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s really too bad Ned, but I think you are going to have to get rid of her.”

Ned ran his hand over Zook’s side, felt her squirm with delight. He teared up a little, looking down so Jill wouldn’t see. “I know. I hate to do it, but I know you’re right.”

Jill reached over and patted Ned’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard, but it’s for the best, Ned.”

The next day there was a knock at the door and Ned got up to answer it, only a second before Helen yelled from the bathroom to see who was knocking at the goldang door. Ned let the men come into the foyer and they were kind enough to put on little booties so they wouldn’t track on the carpet. Ned went into the kitchen and made coffee, mostly because he couldn’t bear to watch, and in part, because he had a brownie from the church bake sale and it would be good with coffee.

That night he felt a little sad as he got ready for sleep. He felt guilty too, but he knew all of that would pass with time. Change was hard. He brushed his teeth and then climbed into bed.

“I know deep in your heart you will miss her too,” he said, as he pulled up the covers.

Zook sighed quietly and turned curled up behind Ned. When she wagged her tail, it rocked the whole bed.

Zook that is.

Hope this finds you embracing change,

David

Copyright © 2023 David Smith