Yesterday afternoon I was wondering what I was going to do today, having no commitments scheduled. Being retired and alone (my wife’s away) I’ve come up with some creative ways of filling time, writing being one of them, but I always make it a point to get out of the house.

In the past week I’ve seen 3 movies, one open rehearsal at David Geffen Hall and attended the annual Goatham festival in Riverside Park. Didn’t do much writing outside of personal journalling. Mañana, as they say in my native Mexico.

So that was the plan, do some writing. Then I got a frantic call from one of my clients, who said “My sink fell down! But I can still wash dishes.” I tried to imagine that scenario, and I couldn’t so I just told her I’d go by in the morning and have a look. Here was my getting out of the house reason. Plenty of time to write later.

This morning, I got some tools together and took the bus down Broadway to 151^st Street, where Tina owns a co-op apartment. The sink had indeed separated from her granite countertop. I wondered if it had just been glued on or something.

After taking numerous pots and pans out from under the sink I figured out the sink had come loose from the four clips that held it in place. After putting a healthy dose of silicone around the rim of the sink I managed to secure the clips back on.

Happy to have helped someone out and making a little money while doing so I headed to Broadway, thinking I’d walk down to the Mexican store on 146^th street to pick up some tortillas and ginger, then going down to Fairway to maybe buy some meat. Starting down Broadway I heard someone call my name. It was my friend Cheree hailing a cab. Where are you going? I asked. “Downtown.” A cab pulled up just then, and I said, “Hey can you drop my on 146^TH?”

“Sure, hop in.” She said.

I got in with my tools in tow. Cheree had a big shoebox with holes in the top in her lap.

“What’s in the box? An animal?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s a ferret,” she said, lifting the cover so I could see inside.

It was indeed a ferret, a cute little creature nestled in some paper. The ferret looked up at me with sad eyes. Ferrets are very pretty animals, and this one was exceptional with those little eyes that begged for succor.

All I could think of at the moment was the scene in the Big Lebowski where the leather clad Germans break into the Dude’s apartment and throw a ferret into the bathtub he’s soaking in nude. This little creature looked just like that one.

“What are you doing with a ferret?” I asked.

“Well, my friend Athena found this poor little animal lying in the street this morning. Around 4am. And she watched as the ferret crawled over to a couch abandoned in the street. He hasn’t eaten anything yet. I’m taking him down to an animal rescue place on Columbus and 86^th.”

That was close to Fairway, so I asked if I could stay in the cab till then. “Sure. Don’t you want to

come with me to the place? Are you in a big hurry?”

So, from having nothing planned for the day I was now recruited into an animal rescue.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll come with you. How do you know it’s a boy? Did you look to see if he has a pee-pee or something?”

“No, I didn’t look.” She harrumphed.

I didn’t try to look either, but in petting the creature, who seemed quite docile I could tell it was in distress. His body trembled and his hind leges seemed paralyzed.

“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.

“The Wild Bird Fund on Columbus. They said they’d take him.”

The cab pulled up in front of the place and we approached the volunteers sitting at a triage table in front of the place.

“What have you got?” One of the women asked.

“A ferret. He seems to be injured, probably someone’s pet they threw out.” Cheree explained. I figured it was a pet as well, since it let us touch it without cowering or biting.

“Oh, we don’t take pets.” The woman said.

“But somebody on the phone told me to bring him down.”

“Yes, but we only take wild animals, if it’s domesticated, we can’t take it. Go across the street, they’ll take it.” We looked across the street where there was a storefront with birds in the window. The sign said Center for Avian & Exotic Medicine.

They were a little more helpful, the young woman at the front desk told us to have a seat and she’d get someone to help us. We sat on a stone bench, and I watched the birds flit around in the big plexiglass enclosure behind the front window. It was a pleasant, inviting place, it felt safe. I was already feeling protective towards our helpless ferret friend.

A young woman with a severely short haircut and some severe tattoos and piercings came out to help us.

“Let’s see,” she ordered. Cheree opened the box and Melissa; she’d told us her name was Melissa- reached in and gently picked up the ferret. The ferret seemed to clutch at Melissa’s chest with her front paws and looked up at her gratefully. With her free hand Melissa felt along the ferret’s back and hind legs, I could see for myself the hind legs were not reacting to touch in any way and it made me sad. But I could also see this woman genuinely cared for animals and felt she would do anything she could to help. Holding the ferret up with both hands for a thorough examination she told Cheree to take pictures.

“This little girl is definitely hurt, she’s a girl by the way- I’m not seeing any reflex action in either back foot.”

Melissa went on to explain the protocol about reclaiming a pet-why she had Cheree take the pictures- and mentioned that ferrets are illegal to keep in New York. I knew someone who had a pair of ferrets that lived in her couch many years ago, and I remember she’d said something about that.

“But you never know, someone might claim her. If not, we can put her up for adoption.”

After an exchange of numbers and info we left. Walking down Columbus Avenue Cheree said she felt like crying. I did too, but just said, “you did a good thing today.”

As we walked over to the subway on Broadway, we passed Barney Greengrass, the sturgeon king.

“Hey, wanna have breakfast?” Cheree said. “I’ve been up since 5 this morning and haven’t eaten anything.”
“I’ll come and sit with you.” I said and we went inside. When Cheree saw how expensive it was, she decided to get a bagel to go instead. “And some chopped liver. I love chopped liver.” If you’re going to buy chopped liver, Barney Greengrass is the place to go.