Refusal
Jack was just looking for a new pet. Smoky (his old cat) has passed away a week ago, and the house was too damn quiet. Not that the cat ever made that much noise, but it felt somehow empty without him around.
There had been ads in the paper all week about the big new Pet Place just one freeway exit north, and Jack had decided to give it a try. About fifteen minutes’ drive saw him wandering up and down long aisles of cages, kennels, aquariums and other more exotic habitats, all with the requisite accessories and suitable feed. He just couldn’t settle on what to get. He was fairly sure he wanted something a bit more substantial than another house-cat, but he’d never really been a dog person. Dogs were high-maintenance; no question about that.
After almost half an hour of fruitless searching, a sales assistant approached. “Having some trouble deciding?” he smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, my cat died last week. I think I want a larger animal this time, but I’m not much for dogs. What can you advise?”
The assistant glanced around furtively, and leaned closer as if to impart a great secret. “I tell you what. We’ve got a special section in the back, with a selection more suited to customers just like you. Let me show you.” He started off, and Jack followed after only a moment’s hesitation. At the far left back corner of the hangar-like store, he unlocked a door, and guided Jack through. The rear area was substantially less deep than the main floor, but still spanned the entire width of the building. It contained rows upon rows of large cages, each of which contained what looked to be a very large feline. They all eyed Jack silently, making him slightly uneasy.
“Uh.. these are..?” he began, unable to think of the word. “Oh, they’re cougars.” said the assistant brightly, whom Jack now noticed was called Bob, according to his name-tag. “They’re smart, reasonably friendly, and make great house guardians. Really, you’ve got the best of both worlds right there. A cat that looks after itself for the most part, and a big old guard for your home. Really, I can’t figure why more people don’t have one of these things. I created this part of the store myself.” Bob was smiling widely now, clearly proud of his small zoo in the back shop.
Jack was hesitant, however, and Bob could see it. His smile faded slightly, and he looked genuinely puzzled. “You… you don’t want a cougar?” Jack eyed him uneasily, and tried to think how to word this. “Look, it’s not that I’m not grateful, and they look like beautiful animals. Really beautiful. I just wonder if it wouldn’t be too much to handle -” Bob was already shaking his head and beginning to object, but Jack continued ” - so I think that, yep, for today I think I’d prefer not to get the cougar.”
Instantly, a klaxon sounded overhead, and a red light strobed from above. The large cats glanced up in momentary surprise, but seemed jaded to this sudden uproar. Jack saw that a large alert beacon was mounted on the ceiling, producing both the sound and the red light, and that with each flash he could see lettering on the clear red plastic, illuminated from behind: COUGAR REFUSAL.
Bob only stood and stared coldly at him, raising his hands as if to say “See? See what you did?” and Jack was lost for words. After a minute, the alert stopped, and there was an awkward silence. At last, Jack spoke once more.
“Ah.. ok, you know what? Yeah, I’ve thought about this some more and I think that I’ll maybe just take a cougar after all. Sounds good.” Bob’s stormy expression was gone in an instant, and his face lit up with genuine joy. He turned and pressed a nearby button, and a cage door slid open. At the same moment, Jack heard the overhead announcement-speakers burst into life with Enrique Iglesias’ voice singing Hero, except that some lyrics had been awkwardly dubbed-over in what was clearly Bob’s voice.
I can be your cougar, baby.
I can take away your lack of a cougar.
The last few words were sung very quickly to fit the single syllable they replaced in the original version. Jack’s only thought was to get out of there as quickly as possible.
A quick credit-card transaction (for $1,300) later, and he was in his car with his new cougar lying quietly but alertly in the back. He had never felt fear like this, but he guessed he’d get used to it.
He would have to. He had a cougar now.
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