Henriettas Cluttering Up My Floor!
If there are aliens, and I'm not saying there are, but if there are, are there also alien animals?
After all, the if the Greys and Draconians are traveling through space from distance planets, do you really expect that they live alone on those planets? With nothing other than their species roaming that planet?
A Strange Gift
I awoke early that summer morning and rushed through my chores. Kelly was coming for a visit, and I didn't want to miss a moment of it. When she arrived, my mom went over the house rules, then let us disappear to our play.
As soon as we were alone, she grabbed her backpack and rushed to my room. "I've got something for you!" She exclaimed, unzipping the bag.
I waited with anticipation. It wasn't my birthday, so what kind of gift could she be bringing? The pack was open, but instead of reaching in, she held it wide, as though she was looking for something.
"Hm-mm. Where did it go?" She mused, rattling the bag. Then, "Oh!" As she dropped the bag back on the bed and stepped out of the way.
Is there any such thing as Alien Animals?See results without voting
A dark fuzzy shadow rolled out of the bag, across the bed, onto the floor, across the room and under my baby sister's crib. Kelly was grinning from ear to ear.
"What was that?!?" I asked, baffled.
"A Henrietta," she replied, matter-of-factly.
"A what?" I asked again, desperately wanting a bit of understanding.
"It is a Henrietta," she replied, then shrugged, "I caught it before I left home, and brought it for you."
So that was my gift. A Henrietta. Something that looked like a dust bunny, but moved on it's own. I was disappointed to say the least, but as it was a gift from my friend, I thought I should at least get a good look at it, or catch it and cage it.
As I searched under the crib, Kelly stated, "You won't find it. It is scared right now. It will come out at night, when it is hungry. Lets go play."
Great. It looks like a dust bunny and acts like a mouse. Just what my mom wants lose in the house. Oh well, I decided that there was no reason for my mom to know anything about this creature until it was found. If I was lucky, it would avoid the mouse traps for a few weeks, thereby putting no connection between itself and Kelly; and then my dad could explain it's strange appearance.
A Second Meeting
We played hard all day long, never once having the chance to go back to my room. That night we stayed up late and the slept in the living room! It was so much fun, until the house became still, and I began to wonder if the Henrietta was hungry. What if it tried to eat my baby sister? What if it made a mess in the pantry?
Suddenly, I heard a mouse trap.
"Uh-oh!" I was sure the Henrietta had been caught! Kelly didn't think it was a problem. She didn't think any of them had ever been caught at her house. She wasn't sure whether her parents knew about them or not. She could tell me no more than she already had.
Finally sleep came, and the next day Kelly left. I was relieved to have some time alone. The trap had caught nothing...
Up in my room, I looked everywhere, but found no trace of the Henrietta. Then, as I sat on my bed wondering if it was all a joke, and if my eyes had deceived me, a shadow rolled across the floor, from the crib to my bed. It was for real; and it was fast!
My grandma had a wind-up spider that she loved to scare us with. She kept it in a shoe box on her closet shelf with some maracas, and would get it out during holiday visits.
It was a harmless piece of machinery, made of a fuzzy back ball and a bent piece of wire. When wound, it would zoom across the floor at a frightening speed; rolling in a straight line until it bumped into something, at which it usually leaped in the air and was sent in a new direction. Although we knew what it was, we always ran screaming from the flying devil.
Living with Henriettas
The Henrietta’s movement reminded me of the spider. I only saw it once or twice a week that summer, but every time it zoomed out of nowhere in a straight line, until it came in contact with an object, then it would change course and continue zooming until it was once again under something. Once it was under something, it was impossible to see. We were not allowed to keep many things under our beds, and the tile floors made for a visible space, but once the Henrietta was under a bed, it disappeared. It didn’t roll out another direction; it just disappeared in the darkness. Flashlights were of no use in catching a glimpse of it.
When winter came, it quit making appearances. I thought that maybe it had rolled out of the room or died, but when spring came it appeared again. It had grown to the size of a tennis ball. Within a month I realized that it had not only grown, but that it had had babies. There were now several small, bouncy ball sized Henriettas in the room.
This pattern continued every year. In three years there were many Henriettas of various sizes, none larger than a tennis ball. We were used to seeing them on the floor in the evening, rolling from place to place. We no longer jumped on the bed every time one came into view.
One evening I noticed one on a book shelf in our room. It was the first time that I had ever seen one higher than the floor. My youngest sister claimed she had stuck it there. It tried to hide in a dark corner, looking like a fuzzy shadow. I tried to pick it up, but there was nothing there.
It was the same year that my parents rearranged the house, put carpet in the bedrooms, and moved us to a different bedroom. My brother got our old room, and my sisters and I got his room. There were no Herriettas in our new room!
I never saw a Henrietta in my brother’s room, but I noticed that the carpet always had a dusty look, as though it was covered with dust bunnies. Then one day, my youngest sister told me she had caught a Henrietta and brought it to our new room. I wasn’t exactly thrilled, but I didn’t tell her because she was so happy with herself.
Eventually they had repopulated to the point where they were annoying in our new room. In every corner or shadowy place, there seemed to be a group of them hanging out.
One such group lived in a pipe that was in the wall/ceiling of an under-the-eves closet. The pipe was about four feet above the floor; I have no idea what it was for -- maybe a clothes rack? Anyway, it was about two inches across and 9"-12" deep. Only an inch or two stuck out of the wall/ceiling.
At first there was just one Henrietta in the pipe, then there was two or three. Finally there was more than we could count. They would crowd the entrance like bunnies at the door of their burrow, looking out, looking down. One medium sized one would lower itself to the ground like a spider, roll across the closet to a bookshelf where another clan lived, then return to it's home in the pipe.
The Trouble with Tribbles
One night, when I was in my early teens, my dad called me downstairs to watch TV with him. The Trouble with Tribbles episode of Star Trek was on, and he wanted me to see it. I watched with interest as this fuzzy creature of unknown origins took over the space ship… constantly eating and populating. I wondered where they had gotten the idea, and suspected that the show’s writer had Henriettas.
That show gave me the courage to talk to my parents about the strange gift I had been given so many years before. My mom said that she had never noticed them. My dad thought it was a strange tale; however, they chose to believe me. After questioning my siblings, and hearing the same story several times, they decided it was time to call on the Lord.
In prayer, they asked God to remove these creatures from our home. That evening was the last time I saw a Henrietta in the house. The removal of them made the rooms feel cleaner, less stuffy, less crowded, and brighter.
My Last Encounter
The last time I saw a Henrietta, I was at Kelly’s house. We were sitting in the family room listening to Dr. Demento, when one went rolling across the floor. “A Henrietta!” I exclaimed, pointing.
Kelly turned red, and her younger siblings smiled at me in a knowing way.
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