Sunday, December 13, 2015

Oppenheimer Holm, or The Day Meitner Was a Confused Nomad

One Saturday morning, Meitner was contentedly munching on some hay, when The Human opened the roof. He preferred to keep eating second breakfast, so he darted around his home to avoid her hands. She caught him, however, and unceremoniously plopped him in a small maroon box with a bedding floor. He remembered this bucket...but could have sworn it was three times larger last time he was in it.

Suddenly, Meiti Pig's vessel rocked and rolled and the world got very cold and fairly wet as he was carried outside for the first time in months. What was this white stuff falling through the roof?  He was not thrilled.  Soon, he was warm again, and baffled by the vibrating floor and loud noises. BUT OH! CARROT! JOY AND HALLELUJAH!

Meiti could see The Human. She kept worriedly looking at the white stuff falling from the sky and squeaking strangely. He couldn't decide if this sound was pleasant. After quite sometime, most of it without Food (since he finished the carrot quickly), the weird motion of his pod stopped. The Human opened a portal and it became so cold and slightly wet again for a bit, until the capsule stopped moving. He smelled new Beings (he caught a glimpse of one with a long, skinny tail), some of which were his own kind! The Human opened the hatch, grabbed him (the indignity), and held him face-to-face to the first Pig he'd seen in almost a year. Such excitement!

 The Other Pig was scared, though, too nervous to be friends. The Human set Meiti in a new habitat, and he enjoyed chatting with Other Pig through the perimeter. So refreshing to carry on an actual conversation!

Mysteriously and inconsequentially, The Human disappeared for a few hours. Between the sturdy house and strawberries from Other Human, Meiti Pig decided he could live here forever.

For better or worse, The Human returned, grabbed Meitner from his new favorite abode, placed him back in the pod, and transported him through the cold to the noisy, vibrating bubble. Muttering something about the deliciousness of "breakfast burritos," The Human seemed more comfortable, now that the white stuff had ceased to fall. She continued to squeal strangely and slightly unpleasantly, however. 

This trip ended in the most intriguing territory Meiti had ever experienced. There were three fluffy things jumping all about and yapping most incessantly. A faint smell of soiled bedding preceded the cacophony of thirty Pigs as a New Human led them into a sanctuary of sorts. For the third time, The Human lifted Meiti Pig, little legs flailing (will it never end), out of the maroon vessel and released him on a soft fleece floor that reminded him of home (does he live there anymore? Who can ever know?). In the corner, was a Young Pig. 

Oh and lettuce. Thank HEAVENS. It had literally been ages. Young Pig exuberantly welcomed Meiti Pig. He recently lost his brother, and had been so excruciatingly lonely. None of the other thirty Pigs were right, but he sensed something he liked in Meitner. Meitner sensed something, too: that he really loves hay.

Young Pig popcorned all about the cage, running and jumping and twitching and squealing. The Pigs exchanged derriere sniffs. Young Pig tried to mount Meiti Pig, who simply shook the much smaller baby off and kept eating. The Humans exclaimed happily about friendship and compatibility, and then rudely stole the Food. For...more times than Meiti Pig can count, he was stuffed back into the bucket. His spirits were instantly raised when hay followed him through the hatch. Out again into the cold, where now freezing water was descending from above, The Human shoved his craft into a new location in the loud wagon: where he could not watch her, under her strange metal and rubber beast.

Soon, he realized why. Young Pig was joining them in this bubble of gray fabric. In Meiti Pig's pod's former spot next to The Human.

The roof of Young Pig's home wouldn't fit, it seems. Meitner caught a few words of a conversation between the humans ("Whatever, stuff it in the trunk") before the portal closed. The Human returned to her normal seat, shivering and wet. The quaking, rumbling, and squealing from The Human restarted. Is this life now? It got quite dark in the bubble. Meiti Pig napped and napped, exhausted from his new nomadic and social existence. 

Eternities later, Meiti awoke to familiar smells of soggy dirt and pines as The Human lugged his plastic cocoon within Young Pig's habitat, next to his purple igloo, through the night. She set them down (with a slightly jarring thud), scratched at a new portal, and SWEET RELIEF. Meiti Pig knew he was home. Actual home, that doesn't move or freeze or let precipitation descend from on high. (Though The Human squawks strangely here, too.) For the last time on this journey, The Human elevated Meitner from his tiny vessel and returned him to his beloved Pig Mansion. There was his cardboard house! Here was his tiger-striped carpet! FINALLY. HIS HAY. 

He stopped eating to watch The Human chase away The Beings with Sharp Pointy Bits (who occasionally are friendly and visit with Meiti Pig...but in whom he senses a disturbing deep, dark desire...). Next, she shoved Young Pig's home next to his, and gave them both apple slices. DESSERT. YES. 

Young Pig hid in his igloo. Confused and scared and tired. Belly-full and benevolent, Meiti Pig encouraged him to explore. Young Pig hesitantly left his grape dome and skipped over to chat. He said his new name was Oppi Pig (rhymes with "hoppy"). Meiti decided he liked having a neighbor that spoke his language and smelled like him. The Human said they'll hopefully even be roommates soon. 

Welcome, little Oppenheimer Holm! 

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