The Augury

It was about a month ago, on a cold December evening, that I happened to gaze upon something sticking out of the ice on the county road. I was picking up the mail around dusk and noticed something that looked like a leg protruding from one of the snowy ruts. I walked up to take a closer look. Whatever it was, it seemed to be embedded in the thawing mud and had apparently been run over a few times. I was intrigued as it definitely didn’t have the appearance of road kill. I searched clumsily in the growing darkness for a stick so I could pry out this mysterious thing from its frozen encasement. To my surprise, it was a small, tattered stuffed rabbit. It was lying face down. When I turned it over, I noticed it was missing one of its glass eyes. I surmised that it was a castaway, thrown out and replaced by a newer gift during the holidays. It must have fallen out of one of the garbage bins before the trash was picked up. I looked at it for a moment, and a strange warmth came over me. So I picked it up and dropped it on the floor board and headed to the house. I had forgotten all about it until a few days later when I happened to notice it smiling at me while gathering groceries from the passenger side of the vehicle. There was something about that smile, so I grabbed it by the arm along with the grocery bags and threw it in the washer while unpacking the weekly provisions.  

I would guess each of us have had a stuffed animal during our childhood. For the majority of us it was more than just a toy. It was our friend, something to hug and keep us warm and secure. We kept it under the covers or hid it in a special place where it could be safe. We carried it to the doctor or tucked it under our arm when traveling. It was a child’s talisman, a protector, a fuzzy guardian when parents were not around. It comforted us when we were saddened or in pain. It provided a transaction of love from the “the make believe” to the realm of a sometimes harsh reality. Behind our measured walls it gave us a sense that family could extend to the inanimate and that love could be found in that which was not necessarily sentient. I still have one or two of these precious keepsakes in a draw.

I believe that certain events can thrust us into curious activities. My wife happened to be doing some laundry, and to her surprise she discovered my new friend. She picked it out of the washer with the tips of her fingers and, staring at me with disgust, began scolding me for bringing this germ- riddled thing home. It was relegated to a separate wash, of course. After its bath, it tumbled around in the dryer. When it came out, it actually looked pretty good, except for the missing left eye. So, I foraged through my wife’s sewing baskets secretly and eventually found a button that could replace my friend’s lost sight. I knew my task was near completion. There I sat, sewing the button in the approximate position where the old dark glass bead had been. After completing the task I took the little fellow into the studio and placed it on the shelf.

And yes ... the augury! A curious thing happened just a few weeks later. I heard a crying in the back yard. I opened the door and there, below me, was a pitiful black cat! It was in pretty bad shape, emaciated and most peculiarly, had a severely damaged left eye. So I rushed him to Dr. Harry and he fixed him up. I was told that he would never see out of that left eye again, but he would make it through with some tender loving care. He is recovering now, sleeping quietly on the couch, just under his new friend’s abiding smile, far from the darkening, frozen county roads of winter.

– Burt Baldwin