"Tell me," Said the Elephant

A chat with a pile of wrinkles, starting w/1st line of "The Elephant's Song." 308 words

"Why do they say that an elephant never forgets? I forget stuff all the time."
I patted the big guy's trunk. "Believe me, friend, we're in the same boat."
His trunk stopped swaying and he gave me a puzzled look. "What are we doing in a boat? Are we going on a trip?"

Sometimes I'm not sure whether he's serious or kidding. He's always asking me questions. Most of them are legitimate queries about humans - often with no easy answer. Like, "Why do humans wear things on their feet?" Or, "why can't humans pick things up with their noses?"

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy to have him around. So I put up with his questions. And once in a while I turn the tables on him. Last week I asked him, "Why are elephants so big?" He thought he could turn it back onto me, and he asked, "Why are humans so small?" Luckily, I have him pretty well figured out, and could almost see that one coming. "We're not," I told him. "In fact, we're just the right size." He looked puzzled, flapping his huge ears as though swatting at flies, and thrashing his tail.

Sometimes I feel a little guilty getting the best of him. I mean, humans have quite an advantage, what with schools, and books. But he's pretty smart, even without those benefits.

I'll admit that having an elephant as a best friend is a little strange. But I feel safe with him close to me (for obvious reasons), and he doesn't shed, like a cat or a dog. And he can talk. I'd say that's pretty special. I haven't thought of a name for him, and he doesn't seem to care that he doesn't have one. And he really likes the chew toy I got him - a tire from a Boeing 747.