The Chibi Problem Part 32
So we had a mission. I named it Mission Ruthie, but Berber preferred Mission Mommie.
I brought Berber in the next day when Ruthie's doctor was in the room. Doctor Takashita did a double-take when Berber popped out of my tote bag and scurried up to crouch on Ruthie's pillow.
"Um... Pets are not allowed in the hospital," he said automatically, staring at the determined quatre.
"Oh, I quite agree," I said cheerfully. "This is not a pet; this is a helper animal." I had already explained to Berber and the other Chibis that "animal" would be used to describe them only because it would be easy for less than clueless humans to understand.
"It... is...?" He stared at the Chibi as Berber petted Ruthie's hair and crooned at her.
"Oh, yeah; Chibis are very helpful to their owners. And very eager to help, as well. Berber is Ruthie's alpha Chibi; she has about a dozen. Berb here is going to be helping Ruthie with daily details when she goes home."
I've found that if you act and sound as if you know what you're doing and have every right to do it, people will usually back down and get out of your way, especially when they aren't sure what's going on.
Doctor Takashita obviously had no clue about Chibis, so I figured it was a good time to get him on our side, before someone attempted to 'enlighten' him.
So, I launched into a more detailed description of what Berber and his boys could do to help Ruthie. I asked Berber to get Ruthie a drink, to help her with breakfast and to brush her hair. He did all those things as if he'd been doing them all his little life, and even tidied the breakfast tray before jumping to the floor and pushing the table aside so that the orderly could collect the tray more easily.
The doctor's eyes lit up during that brief demonstration and he began asking questions.
Yep; taking over the world, one mind at a time.
By the time he finished his examination, he was a fan. Ruthie was a little stunned, I think, but she didn't seem too upset to be viewing her "pet" in this new light.
"Berber," she breathed after the doctor had gone. "You can really do all these things? You can... understand me...?"
Berber sat down cross-legged next to her and nodded vigorously. "Friend!" he chirped firmly. "Mo...em."
That was a new one; I blinked. I'm used to BabyDoll's "Moooiiiii"; it hadn't occurred to me that the other breeds of Chibis might have variations on the word. Yeah, yeah; I know. Sometimes I need to stop and think.
A nurse came in then and eyed Berber uncertainly.
"Doctor Takashita said it was okay for him to be here; he's a helper animal." Just jump right in...
"Oh... Well... I guess that's okay." She took a hesitant step closer. "He's not... aggressive, is he?"
"No; he's strictly defensive. As long as you don't threaten Ruthie, he's fine."
"It's a Chibi, right? I've never seen one in person before." She smiled at Berber and made a little cooing sound.
Berber glanced at me, then chirped nicely back at her. She giggled.
"Aw, he's cute! What does he do?"
"Like I said, he's a helper. When Ruthie goes home, he'll be able to help her with just about anything she can't manage on her own. Mostly, he'll be her hands, until she has the use of hers again."
"Oh, that will be helpful!" She came around to check the dressings on Ruthie's hands and legs. She cocked a warning eyebrow at Ruthie. "Too many people go home and try to do too much too soon, and cause damage. Burns are tricky things and healing takes a very long time with third-degree burns.
Not saying anything we didn't already know, but she was trying to be nice, so I forgave her tendency to lapse into near baby-talk.
Ruthie was scheduled to be moved in a couple of days to a less-restrictive facility to begin therapy. The tentative plan was for her to spend a week or two there and then go home, with a visiting nurse coming in every day to check on her progress for another week or two. They were serious about not wanting her to over-do at this stage, and Teola had some great insurance.
Once the nurse was gone, I explained that Berber and the other Chibis would visit the nursing home to learn what Ruthie could and couldn't do, and how to keep track of her healing. Ruthie blinked at me rather skeptically more than once.
"You're saying that my Chibis will understand all that? That they'll know about dressings and wound care? How can they?" she burst out finally.
Berber sighed and began to chatter. Ruthie stared hard at him; like she was trying to concentrate on every sound he made. I actually saw the moment when she realised that she could understand him; that her Chibi was speaking a language she could easily understand. I had a bad ten seconds wondering if she was going to faint or just squeal with delight. Fortunately for all concerned, she went with the squeal.
"He's talking to me! He's actually talking to me! Oh, my god!"
I probably beamed; it's not an expression I use often, so it's a little unfamiliar. "You bet he is," I agreed. "Quatres are chatty little guys; they always have something to say. There is just one thing, Ruthie..."
She managed to tear her attention away from Berber for a moment.
"Do not tell people that your Chibis talk to you," I cautioned. "This is a pretty much unknown or unacknowledged ability of theirs; we don't want people to think you're crazy or to try to dissect anyone to see how they do it."
She thought about that for a few seconds, then frowned. "No one touches Berber; he's my Chibi." Berber cooed and patted her cheek approvingly. "He agrees with me."
I won't say she sounded awed, but there was certainly a touch of wonder in her voice.
I looked at Berber; he looked at me. We both smirked.
Damn, we're good.
TBC...
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