I Wouldn’t Want to Anthropomorphize

I Wouldn’t Want to Anthropomorphize 

Humor by Kenneth Weene

[image error]I wouldn’t want to anthropomorphize,” That was the first line of the first poem I ever published. It was a lie. My wife and I love to anthropomorphize, to find human qualities and personality in everything. Not just in animals, but also in inanimate objects. In fact, we sometimes are aware of living beings where others seem unable to find objects at all. Take, for example, the moose who lives in our guest bathroom.

 

We know he is there because he bellows. His call fills our condominium as the water refills the toilet’s reservoir. Before you say it, let me assure you this is not a plumbing issue. If it were the sound would occur every time we flush. It doesn’t.

 

Clearly it is the call of a bull moose in distress.

 

At first we considered getting help. We thought of the Fish and Game Department, but they would no doubt fine us for trapping this noble beast—and worse doing so out of season.

 

Next we considered the ASPCA. Surely, given the bellows there was something drastically wrong with our moose; he was in need of veterinary services. Unfortunately, while I could find free spay and neuter clinics and other services for smaller animals, the ASPCA apparently offers no help with large deer-like species.

 

I resolved to find the cause of our toilet-guest’s distress. If it could be relieved…

 

Generally, the moose bellows loudest in the morning, usually after my wife has weighed herself. Very conscious of her health, she does this every morning.

 

I broached the subject carefully. “What the devil have you been feeding him?”

She paled and then turned crimson. Was I accusing her? How dare I?

 

I backed off as quickly as any husband who has suddenly realized that a dozen roses will get him nowhere. Still, I could not let the subject go.

 

“What do moose eat?” I tried that question the next morning when our guest had bellowed loudly.

 

Without thinking she fell into my trap. “Greens.”

 

“Does he have a favorite?” Notice the clever way in which I had moved from the general to the particular.

 

“Poblanos,” my wife answered. She had given it up. She was feeding our house moose green peppers. No wonder the poor fellow was bellowing. Heartburn will do that—be you human or moose.

 

I suggested a switch in diet. My wife insisted that every moose has a right to enjoy the finer things in life.

 

We compromised on an antacid. It doesn’t help. The groaning continues. A moose with heartburn: who could not feel his pain. Not that I’d want to anthropomorphize.

 

Brief bio

Sometimes Ken Weene writes to exorcise demons. Sometimes he writes because the characters in his head demand to be heard. Sometimes he writes because he thinks what he have to say might amuse or even on occasion inform. Mostly, however, he writes because it is a cheaper addiction than drugs, an easier exercise than going to the gym, and a more sociable outlet than sitting at McDonald’s drinking coffee with other old farts: in brief because it keeps him just a bit younger and more alive.

 

Learn more about Ken and his writing at http://www.kennethweene.com