We have a problem. A problem I believe was caused by Jose’s lack of responsibility.
For nearly two weeks after he got back from finding the space octopus, he hid. Shirking his responsibilities, playing a trick on me, making me think a grungle had escaped, and then making me not check the security of the enclosure because of his trick. The hole could have been there the whole time, and I would not have noticed, because I was too busy doing his work to spend time in the enclosure. Maybe he knew about the hole. Maybe he was using it to get in and out when he was playing his trick!
I suppose that is not a fair accusation. Jose has his flaws, but he would not knowingly endanger a creature. Though he may not have seen the danger. The grungles have no interest in leaving their enclosure.
But the shriles… they will take any opportunity to escape.
I went into the grungle enclosure yesterday with the usual buckets of food. The grungles all came running out of the trees as usual, but they were acting different. Quieter, almost nervous. I counted them and thought there was one less than normal. So I counted them again. Thanks to Jose’s trick, I doubted myself for a moment. I thought that maybe I was remembering the wrong number, because there was one extra last week. I am still surprised that I did not notice one extra grungle, but with so much work to do I never stopped to count. I only stopped yesterday because the grungles were not their normal playful selves.
I decided that there was definitely one missing. I started walking along the perimeter of the enclosure, watching the trees for movement. I was so focused on the tree tops that I did not notice the barrel in my path until I ran into it, almost causing me to fall over. But if I had not run into it, I might not have noticed the hole hidden behind it.
I ran out of the enclosure to sound the alarm, still watching the tree tops as I slid open the alarm panel, inserted my key and flipped the switch.
I heard the alarm sound throughout the building and hoped some of my coworkers were nearby, and that some of them were good climbers.
We have procedures in place for situations like these. As caretakers arrived, I instructed them each to take a grungle or two to an empty enclosure nearby, where they could be entertained while we searched. Those who were able started to climb the trees. Others helped Mohammed repair the hole in the enclosure.
It was not long before someone spotted movement in the tree tops. The caretakers who were climbing made their way towards the movement. From the ground, it sounded like they had found a grungle somehow stuck in the tree. They were talking to it, trying to coax it out and determine if it was hurt. One of the caretakers made their way to the ground and told me it was not a grungle at all, but a shrile that had somehow found its way into the enclosure. Worst of all, it looked like it had already eaten a grungle.
Shriles are the grungles’ only natural predator. We keep their enclosures as far apart as we can, so that they cannot hear or smell each other. But somehow this shrile had made its way into the grungle enclosure and eaten a grungle without anyone noticing.
We quietly left the grungle enclosure to find a cage we could use to transport the shrile back to its enclosure. The other caretakers kept the shrile distracted while we got the cage into the tree, but as soon as it saw the cage it became agressive. It took us nearly an hour to get it into the cage. When we finally captured it, we were all exhausted, but the work was not done yet.
I left the other caretakers to clean up the grungle enclosure and bring the grungles back in while I returned the shrile to its enclosure. I was looking forward to the end of this stressful day.
But it was not over yet. In fact, it is still not over.
The shrile enclosure was quiet. Not just quiet, but completely silent.
I did not sense any movement as I entered. I set the shrile down, still in its cage, and waited. I did not see or hear anything for several minutes. As I scanned the trees, I noticed something on the ceiling. An air vent that was somehow broken open.
I walked dejectedly out of the shrile enclosure, slid open the alarm panel, inserted my key and flipped the switch.
Nushi
