Dear Valerie-
 
I used to have a huge lady albino named Maya, a.k.a. Maya the Moose.  She
loved dirt.  She loved everything about dirt.  She loved the look, the
feel, the smell of dirt.  Dry dirt, wet dirt, it didn't matter.  The Moose
loved to uproot my potted plants just so she could have the dirt to play
in, she'd discard the plant without a second thought.  I'd find it thrown
into a dark corner every time.
 
It wasn't enough to play with dirt, she loved nothing more than a long,
luxurious session of rolling in the dirt.  She took real pleasure in
mashing paws full of dirt into her face and scrubbing at it.  As a result,
she was often a big gray albino ferret with shiny freckles of mica in her
fur.  She usually smelled like potting soil.
 
I have a forever image of her in my mind, the two of us outside one day
after a summer rainstorm.  The rain had washed the world all fresh and
cool and so green, jeweled petals scattered on the ground beneath the
flowers, sun beams had broken through the clouds, blue sky, and there was
the Moose in her glory ..her filthy black wet feet like four little dirt
combat boots, mud caked on her snout, sludge on her whiskers, she was so
joyously happy digging in that puddle...the Moose knew a lot about joy.
And dirt.
 
Alexandra in Massachusetts
[Posted in FML issue 3796]