An original mixed-media on illustration board
Today, my little four-footed friend, and occasional model, Horatio H. Hamster Esq.,
stopped by the studio for a short visit. ( Due to his diminutive stature, all of his visits
could be considered short ones, but I'll let that pass. ) It had been months since I had
seen him around our little Kingdom Of The Animals, so I asked him what he had been
up to, or down to, in his case.
He was not amused by the question. He said that he had been very busy, doing
some important government work, in his capacity as a private, consulting detective,
working a low-profile investigation. Such surprising news made me question his
aptitude for that profession. I asked him if he didn't find himself to be a bit out of his
depth for dealing with criminal masterminds, but he said that, quite to the contrary, he
had inherited an instinct for detective work, because of his namesake, the world famous
detective with whom he shared the name "Holmes". His response prompted me to ask
if he was referring again, to his middle initial, the solidly variable letter "H", and he did
confirm that his middle-initial stood for the name Holmes.
That answer shouldn't have surprised me; he always had a different answer for what
his middle initial stood for, depending on what kind of outfit he was wearing at the time.
( Once, during a time when he was playing the role of a magician's assistant, he told me
that his middle initial stood for the name Houdini. ) I should have recognized his Sherlock
persona immediately, because of his appropriate accouterments, including his deer-
stalking hat and his meerschaum pipe. I asked him if he had known Sherlock Holmes,
and he said he had not known him, but that one of Horatio's distant cousins had once
shared a room on Baker Street, and he seemed to feel that this relationship provided him
with rare insight into criminal matters.
When I asked him who had hired him for this "important" case of detective work, he
said that the man's name was confidential, but he did reveal the man's last name began
with the letter "M", and that his name rhymed with the word "color". That intrigued me
enough to ask him what he could reveal about his personal assignment, in this top-secret,
special investigation. So, after swearing me to secrecy, he said that he had been chosen
to slip into the White-house, without being observed, because of his talent to make
himself seem quite small. I observed that I thought his size had more to do with his
family heritage, than it did with talent, but he pays little attention to such theatrical
reviews and critiques. As for the details of his assignment in the White-house, he
said that Mr. "M" had told him to take his cue from Diogenes, the Ancient Greek
philosopher, and go in on a quest to find an honest man in the White-house.
Horatio said that he had set out on this important search with determination and
due diligence, but unfortunately found that he had to gain entry to the White-house,
through a hole created by rats. And then, to make matters worse, once he was inside,
he was nearly trampled to death, by a pack of panicked, fleeing rats, jumping all over
each other in their rush to get out and away, and yelling "Get out! Run! The ship is
sinking! The ship is sinking!". Horatio said that he had tried to tell them that they were
not on a ship, but that his voice had been drowned out, by the rats, mad, screaming
scramble, to flee the disaster as quickly as possible.
At that point, Horatio seemed to want to end his narration of his White-house
search, without further revelations. So, I asked him whether his mission had reached
a successful conclusion. Then his bright eyed expression turned sad and dejected, as
he finally had to admit that he had failed in his assignment. Although he had searched
long and hard, he had never found an honest man in the White-house.
Reflecting on his failure, he said, "There must have been an honest man in that
confused place somewhere, or else Mr. "M" wouldn't have sent me in there to find him.
But I had to report back to him, that I hadn't been able to discover where the man
was hiding out, in that treacherous rats-maze of a house."
"Don't feel too bad about it", I told him. "Maybe the honest man escaped
before you got out".
He agreed that my suggestion was a possibility, considering the large number
of people who were rushing to get out of those White-house exits at all hours of
the day and night.
Before Horatio ended our visit, he asked me to remind everyone in our little
Kingdom Of The Animals, that he would be reprising his role as Bob Cratchit,
in the annual production of Dickens' Christmas Carol, at the quadruped playhouse.
He is ever the busy, little promoter, isn't he?
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