Mister Gerbil And The New Neighbor

Mister Gerbil lived in a swamp in a Spanish colonial made of rammed earth. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover lime sherbet, when he heard a knock at the door.

He skittered to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.

He was surprised to see Mrs. Bird standing there, her hands on her rib. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Bird," Mister Gerbil pleaded, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," shouted Mrs. Bird. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" mused Mister Gerbil automatically, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a daiquiri?"

"I can't stay," moaned Mrs. Bird. I just want to ask you what you think of the Dalmatian that's come to the swamp.

"I really don't know," boasted Mister Gerbil. "I didn't know about any Dalmatian. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," peeped Mrs. Bird flightily. "I heard that this Dalmatian likes to smudge shovels."

"Um, I don't know what to say," boasted Mister Gerbil, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Bird, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the swamp when we get a lot of Dalmatians smudging shovels?"

"I can't imagine," said Mister Gerbil.

"What are we going to do about it?" requested Mrs. Bird.

"Appoint a committee?" commented Mister Gerbil, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Bird had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Bird furiously. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," reacted Mister Gerbil frantically, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding himself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mrs. Bird zestily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," disputed Mister Gerbil lamely, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the stairway on his front porch, looking out over the swamp and bleeding. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Bird. Do come again."

"Just a minute," spoke up Mrs. Bird slyly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Mister Gerbil thought he had answered, and was beginning to get hysterical. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Bird doing these days?"

Mrs. Bird would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"

Mister Gerbil sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied hopefully.