My First Valenhog’s Day

Author’s Note: This is for the Voices in Minor Valenhog Challenge. If you want to join in our fun, follow the link below.

Chuck remained nestled in his hole, dreading February 2nd. Every year, it was the same thing, again and again. First, those giant two-leggers forced him from his hiding place. Then they flashed those lights at him and yelled and crowded him, as though he were some sort of spectacle. At the end of the day, he was tossed back into his hole, as though he was nothing.

All for what? Chuck thought that he had once seen them gesturing at his shadow, but that could not be right. Why would they be so interested in such a trivial matter as his shadow?

He almost missed the early days, the days before the two-leggers had chosen him for this ritual. At least those days had made sense: hide in your hole, don’t get caught by a two-legger, run like the wind if you do. Now, the two-leggers kept him captive in his hole all year long, except for that one day, the one day that they tortured him without any thanks or appreciation.

But there were the days when Chuck snuck out of his hole outside of that horrific day. They could not always keep an eye on him, and on those rare moments when the two-leggers slipped, he would slip his head out to see what the rest of the world was like. He could not go beyond the invisible barrier around his hole, but at least he could see how the world around him had changed.

On February 2nd, the outside world was so bombarded with light and two-leggers that Chuck could hardly tell what was around him. He could smell the fresh air, the trees, and the grass. Somehow, though, those disappeared the rest of the year, replaced by some two-legger construction and sterile chemical smells. The food the two-leggers gave Chuck smelled of dirt and grass, but none of it was enough for Chuck to stay out of his hole for long.

The one thing that Chuck did appreciate seeing the two-leggers doing always came soon after his torture. It was the only thing that drew him out after so much torment. Mating two-leggers would gather together and give each other gifts, all the same shade of gray and in the same shape, something that they called a “heart”. They would hold each other and press their lips together, something that Chuck thought was only for mating, and yet he only occasionally saw mating occur.

Chuck wondered if he would ever be included in this ritual as well.

The hated day of February 2nd finally came. Chuck could feel his hole being moved. He tried to burrow deeper, but there was nowhere to go. Even if he could go deeper, he knew that the two-leggers would find him anyway. As soon as the movement stopped, a hand reached in and grabbed him by the scruff. Chuck scratched and bit, but it was to no avail. They forced him out into the blinding lights anyway.

Yet soon, the blinding lights dimmed. Chuck found himself surrounded not just by the two-leggers but by those things they called “hearts”, all in the same shade of gray that he had seen before. In front of him stood something that he had never seen before: something that looked just like him, except it smelt…different. An attractive kind of different.

“Chuck, meet Claudia,” a two-legger boomed. “She’s all yours, pal.”

Chuck walked hesitantly towards this Claudia and sniffed, gently brushing noses with her. A chorus of “aw” broke out through the crowd of two-leggers.

“Happy Valenhog’s Day, everyone!”