WHISPER: PPSSSST! By Nan Ressue

Word: WHISPER
Word Count 500+
PPSSSST!
Nan Ressue
“PSSSSST! PSSSSST! Grandma, I’m over here;” whispered my youngest granddaughter from her hideout behind the garage.
I slipped quietly through the tall grass so I could better hear her small voice, which was delivering an urgent plea.
“Would you help me get Velvet into the house?”
This is more complicated than you think. Velvet is a horse.
“Only if you can give me an excellent reason,” I replied, trying not to say no immediately.
“Well,” she said thoughtfully,” I can think of two to begin with. She is lonely in the garage and she also chewed the upholstery in the Mercedes. She only ate a little piece but now she feels sick.
“That was pretty stupid when there is plenty of hay out there to eat. “I said critically. “Besides that, horses usually don’t live in the house.”
“Grandma, please reconsider. She promised not to poop in the bed.”
“Well, in that case, I guess we could give it a try”, I said, suddenly convinced I had lost my mind. I felt better after realizing that the move could be for an hour or better than that, ten minutes.
“How do you propose we do this?” I asked the owner of the horse.
The forehead of that little face wrinkled in concentration until her scheme had taken shape.
“Probably going through the front door would be the best route as the staircase is right across from the door. I could pull her in with her rope while you push from behind.”
The horse was willing to try but there she was, halfway through and firmly stuck between the doorjambs. The humans had forgotten to measure.
“Well, will you look at that! Jammed in the jambs”, I said to myself, enjoying my own wit.
AND, wouldn’t you know it…. The project was in full swing as the patrol car made the corner, and screeched to a halt, obviously summoned by a neighbor who was supervising from behind the living room drape. A policeman with a red face jumped out of the car and charged full speed across the lawn, yelling as he came.
“Wait! WAIT! Just what do you think you’re doing?”
Assuming my most feeble, elderly look I replied, “What you see here officer is a humane act of kindness toward a pitiful, lonely animal. These painful feelings are going to be cured by allowing her to join the family group.”
Turning to look at the horse rammed halfway into the house and then at me with a withering stare he said, “I thought I knew a horse’s ass when I saw one but the prize winning one looks just like you. Back her outta there girls”.
A gob of Bag Balm on each side of the animal did the trick.
Later that night, coming home from my bridge game, I met my granddaughter on the sidewalk carrying her suitcase.
“Where are you going honey?” I asked carefully.
“Grandma, I’m sorry our plan didn’t work out this afternoon but thank you for your help anyway. I’ve decided to move into the garage. Velvet said yes because I promised not to poop in her bed.”

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