A year had almost passed since my wife Pat and I had acquired Butch, our pet pig-tailed monkey. He was a member of the Rock Ape Family.
Butch had recently outgrown his innocent little childhood. Indeed, when I boght him for Pat, he was about as tall as a large drinking glass. Now he measured almost two-feet tall, and weighed about 25 pounds.
He was still just as playful as the day I brought him home. In fact, I discovered a long time ago, his main purpose in life was to eat more than I could and play all day long.
This tale begins one beautiful autumn afternoon. I carried Butch outside into the back yard. This wasn't unusual, as I often carried Butch outside to enjoy the Sun.
Reclining in my lounge chair, sipping on a cold glass of iced tea and watching Butch, it suddenly dawned on me that his cage was almost too small for him. His cage cost me $50 and I sure hated to have to shell out more money for another one. But, sooner or later, he was going to have to have one. I opted for the latter. Procrastination always came easy for me.
As I was idly watching Butch scratching through the grass roots, undoubtedly looking for something to eat, Pat came to the back door and said that dinner was ready.
Usually I will bring Butch in with me, but this evening was turning out so nice, I decided against it. I figured he would be all right outside by himself. After all, what could possibly happen in 30 minutes.
Our house didn't have a back fence, just an open alley. But surely, no one would sneak into our backyard and steal Butch while we were eating dinner.
Just about 30 minutes later as I was helping my wife clear the dinner table, the phone rang. The caller was my neighbor who lived three houses away from us. "Aren't you the one that's got the monkey," he asked?
By now, everyone in the neighborhood knew we owned a monkey, so I assured him that, "Yes indeed, I was the one with the monkey."
"Well," he said, "Your monkey is walking down the back alley."
Startled and confused, I raced out the back door. Butch was gone! I ran to end of the yard where the back fence would have been and looking down the alley, There he was, sure enough, he was walking down the alley, but he was still in his cage. I hadn't fully realized just how big and strong he had become in the last few months. The holes in his cage were big enough to allow him to stick his feet though when he turned the cage on its side. He was strong enough to pick the cage up and actually walk with it. And he was!
I don't know where he though he was going, but he was in a big hurry to get there. I yelled at him to stop, but of course, he didn't. Instead, when he turned around and saw me, he actually started to run down the alley away from me.
I hollered at him again and then began to chase him. In his haste, he tripped over his own feet and fell down. The cage rolled over and over.
Catching up with him, I quickly calmed him down. Picking up the cage and walking back up the alley toward my house, I noticed many of my neighbors had walked out to the end of their backfences to watch this ludicrous scene. Some were laughing so hard that tears were running down their faces. And no wonder.... it's not everyday you see a monkey trying to runaway from home and taking his cage with him.
Duce is the nom-de-plume of Carman J.W. Vance at the Crest Yard in Fort Worth.