Pika (Pee-ka)

Pikas in Venice?

"Have you ever seen such a thing?" Annie asked, digging in her bag. "It's... it's just so.... so adorable. Dor, a whole family is in there?"
"Yes, a whole family," Dorothy answered. "And, no. No I haven't, that's why I called you over here. I've never seen such a thing. I've never even seen a pika, let alone a dwarf pika. Or dwarf pika family."
"Well, I'm glad you called me. This is really something else. How long have they been here?" Annie continued to dig around in her bag.
"Annie, what is it you need? You've been digging around in that thing forever." Dorothy's fists were on her hips now. "They're so so cute, Annie. They look like hamster-bunny-mice-gerbels. And so tiny! They're no bigger than the palm of my hand."
"Yeah, I'm looking for my tape measure, do you have one?" Annie sighed and topped rummaging through her bag. She wiped her brow with her forearm. "Can I get some of that lemonade?"
"Sure, sure, Annie. I'll get some. I think I have a tape measure. What do you need it for?" Dorothy walked into her house. Yelling from the kitchen, she said, "Would you like some tea in the lemonade? Or some gin?"
"Both please. Thank you."
Both? Tough day, it seems, Dorothy muttered to herself. She continued yelling from the kitchen, "So what's a pika, anyway? I know it's not a mouse. They're too cute for that."
Annie found her tape measure, and started measuring the small ... nest? Do Pika's have nests? It isn't a mound, that's for sure. At the moment Annie couldn't remember, it's been so long since her college days. We'll call it a nest for now, she thought. Their nest was built on the corner of the shed in the back, like a pyramid made of twigs, cobwebs, and leaves. There was a small opening near the top. Annie measured the nest and the opening and noted the measurements in her notebook. "How many are there?" She called back to Dorothy.
"I think five. The parents and three little ones. I've seen both the mom and the dad, but I had to use a torch to look inside. I think I saw three little ones. But my, they are so tiny, Annie. Are you able to see?" By this time, Dorothy came out with the drinks and put the tray on the table. She sat down on the wrought iron chair and took a sip of one of the tall glasses. "My that is good. Lemonade, tea, and gin. Does it have a name? It's delicious."
Annie stood up from her crouch and was rolling her tape measure. "Pikas, I am shocked. When did you say you saw them?" Annie sat next to Dorothy and picked up a glass. "They shouldn't be here, it's just entirely too hot. Normally they die if the temperature gets above 80 degrees. What is it now, do you reckon?" She took a sip of her drink. "My word, Dorothy, this is fantastic. What did you put in it?"
"Well, to your first question," Dorothy answered, "Those cute little rodents came... I must have seen the first litter a year ago. Back then, I just thought they were kangaroo rats or some other kind of mouse. But they just didn't... act like mice, I guess. They weren't so afraid. And this time around, with the new litter, and their new home, I thought I'd call an expert. Are they in danger? Am I in danger?"
"No no, you're not in danger, but I'm surprised they aren't. Like I said, they should be dead. This summer heat is way to much for them. But here they are, looking happy as ever. And you're right, there are three little babies in there. How did they get here?" Annie took another sip of her gin and lemonade. "Honestly, Dor, what's in here. I need to serve this."
"Just like you asked, lemonade, gin, and tea. Meyer lemons from that tree, right there. Some tea... Must be Earl Grey, it's usually the tea that Margery brews and leaves behind... Gin. And the flower there is edible. From the garden. What's that gin you've been getting lately? That's the one." Dorothy took another sip herself, and nodded in agreement that it was quite tasty. "You know what, I think there may be some extra sugar and honey in here. I bet that's what it is. Margy likes her tea sweet as can be. Claims it helps with the heat."
Annie took another sip, nodded, and took another sip. "Yeah, the sweetness does it. And the honey is divine in it. I can also taste this flower, it's subtle, but beautiful. Shall we call it something and serve it? 'Divine' something or other?"
"Sure. No something or other, it's just 'Divine.' Sounds so royal, don't you think? I love it. Those flowers grow like weeds. People will ask, 'poor me a divine!' it will be a hoot." Dorothy kicked her feet up on the table. "So about these pika... They're too cute. Will they survive? I'll be heart broken if they don't. And I hope you don't mind me saying, but their droppings have been incredible fertilizer."
Annie placed the glass on the wrought iron table and took out her notebook and pencil. Her intention was to write down the recipe for the new drink she and Dorothy had just invented, but instead she wrote down the note about the droppings below the measurements of the nest and the sizes of the pikas. "Dor, have you tried using bits of their nest in your brews?"
"What? No. Should I?"
Annie tapped her chin with her pencil. "Dor, honestly I'm shocked they're surviving for as long as you said. If there was a previous litter, that means there are a few pikas in this neighborhood. And the parents are still here with a second litter. They should be dead. They live in the alpine altitude, where it never rises above 80 degrees. They can't survive temperatures above that. For them to be here, it's ... well, it's just really incredible. So, what I'm saying is that they must have something special about them. And that something special may be in their saliva, which they use to help put their nests together."
"I see what you're saying. So if I used a twig or two in a cocktail, let's say, then that specialness will leach into the liquid. I see." Dorothy stood up. "Well, why don't we try it?"
"What, now?" Annie also stood up. "In what? What do you have brewing?"
"Nothing we'd have to ingest. That pot you saw simmering? Well, okay, that you'd have to ingest. But we could separate a smaller pot of that and simmer a twig in it. The brew is for... well, it's for Frank. Frank's been really stressed lately, and he's had a hard time... well, you know... doing the deed. So I'm brewing something to help him mellow out. Let's put a twig in it and see what happens."
"Dorothy! That's ... that's really dangerous. To just try it without knowing anything?" Annie was writing vigorously.
"Annie, you're writing and you're smiling. I don't believe for one second you think this is too dangerous to try."
"No. It's incredibly dangerous, but you know me too well. Let's do it and see what happens." Annie put down her book and pencil and walked over to the nest by the back corner of the shed.
"Don't forget to ask!" Dorothy reminded Annie.
"I am, I am." Annie crouched down. "Ms. Pika, I'm Annie. Could you poke your head out?" To no one's surprise, one of the pikas poked their head out of the opening. "Hi there. We were wondering if it's okay to have one or two twigs of your nest, so we could try a potion. Would that be okay?"
The little furry mammal scurried out of the nest. She picked two twigs from the top of the nest and laid them by Annie's feet. But before she scurried back into the nest, she squeaked a little bit and touched Annie's foot.
"What was that?" Dorothy asked, rather shocked.
"She says to not over bowl. That would be very very bad for us." Annie picked up the twigs like nothing was at all strange.
"Well... alright then. Low heat. Let's do this." Dorothy walked into the kitchen, Annie following.