The Gerbil Odyssey

I recently had the opportunity to hunt for the illusive and dangerous domesticated gerbil, or as it's known in scientific circles, gerbilus domesticus. The hunt was an epic tale on par with The Iliad, and is certainly worthy of retelling. So, without further ado, I bring you the Gerbil Odyssey.

With fear in her eyes, my older daughter came bursting in to the bedroom of my lovely bride and I. So full of nervousness was she that she could scarcely relay the cause of her terror. She had spotted the domesticated gerbil running unfettered throughout our domicile. Knowing the damage this rare and exotic creature could do those unprepared or ill-equipped to face such a fierce foe, the damsel in distress came to her knight. Since I, her knight, was slumbering with my lady, I wasn't exactly "in" my shining armor, but fortunately it was hanging on a nearby hook.

Sensing the terror my damsel felt, I heroically donned my armor and began my quest to capture the dreaded gerbil. After carefully surveying the quarters, I spotted my foe. He had cleverly concealed himself beneath the cauldron in our cooking area. After considering my options, I aroused my she-squire, the owner of this dreaded beast. "My sword," I cried!

"But sire, your sword is at the armory being polished for your next jousting match," answered my she-squire.

Realizing that time was of the essence, I determined that I must improvise and choose a different weapon. "A broom," I called!

"Yes sire," she replied, handing me my ad hoc fighting tool. As I grasped the broom, my dreaded foe stared back at me, daring me to engage in combat. Sensing my resolve, he chose to withdraw to the far corner of the cauldron, forcing me to confront him in his native environment.

Preferring to capture my foe, rather than sentence him to death, I began to gently yet firmly thrust my makeshift weapon under the cauldron. "Curses," I exclaimed! "This weapon is too unwieldy. It will not fit under the cauldron, and is therefore unsuitable. She-squire! Fetch me a thinner jousting tool!"

"But sire, we have no such instrument in the house," she responded, alarmed.

"Surely we must have something suitable for the task at hand," I retorted. As I did a mental inventory of the tools available for this quest, it came to me! "Fetch me the long-handled duster," I commanded.

"Right away, sire."

By this time, all of the damsels in the kingdom had heard of my epic mission, and had come to observe. All of them, that is, except for the mongrels, who were safely locked away, lest grave harm should come to them.

As all of these events transpired, I took note of my surroundings, evaluating the danger to myself and the princesses in my charge. "Stay back," I sternly reminded them. "This beast is dangerous and wiley. You cannot predict what such a predator may do when cornered. I must demand that you give this creature room, for your own safety."

"But what about you," inquired my lady?

"Fear not for me. I am accustomed to exactly this sort of danger," I calmly reminded her, as my she-squire handed me my thin lance. I attempted to insert my thin lance beneath the cauldron. Success!

After my thin lance was fully inserted in the space beneath the cauldron, I began to sweep the weapon across the cauldron area. Another setback. Something prevented me from running my lance cleanly across the area underneath the cauldron. Curses! Again, I considered my available options for capturing the feared domesticated gerbil. My foe came to the front of his chosen arena, daring me to confront him.

There was no choice. Though I am humble by nature, I was forced to show all who witnessed the event my physical and intellectual superiority over my foe and my obstacles. I handed my thin lance to my she-squire and instructed her to withdraw.

I then stood at full height, and began moving the immense cauldron from its cooking area, drawing it into the middle of the cooking room, despite the fact that it required a great deal of concentration and strength, and despite the fact that I was without a weapon while I moved the cauldron. The damsels couldn't help but gasp at my show of physical prowess and bravery.

And then the tables of the battle turned dramatically. Though he still glared at me defiantly, I could see a twinge of fear in my foe's eyes. He realized that I had altered the playing field, that he had lost his territorial advantage, and backed into a corner where the cauldron formerly stood.

While I knew that I was mere moments away from total victory over my opponent, experience reminded me that I could not let my guard down, for there is nothing more dangerous than a cornered foe. They are doubly ferocious, doubly unpredictable, and therefore, doubly dangerous. Calling upon this experience, I reminded the damsels to stay back, lest the beast escape and do them harm.

Once assured that the women were safe, I moved in for the capture. Sensing the end of freedom was near, the gerbil gave up all pretense of bravery and attempted to scurry away, just as I was blocking off all escape routes. The situation became more intense, and more desparate, as I tightened the dragnet. Intuitively knowing that its very freedom was at stake, gerbilus domesticus used every ounce of strength, every bit of cunning, and all of its immense dexterity in attempting to escape. In the end though, all of his clever gambits proved futile, and I recaptured the illusive gerbil. I completely cornered him, and in a moment of inattention, I caught him unaware, grasped him up, and returned him to captivity, none the worse for wear.

The women cheered and showered me with gratitude and affection. After the fervor had died down, I instructed my she-squire to return my weapons to the armory, shed my armor, and washed away the perspiration of the day's tribulation. Then I went to work.