As our scene opens, it is night in the Sargent-Colburn household.  All
is still.  The refrigerator hums softly in the background.  The hoomins
are sound asleep in their bed beneath their blankie pile.  The hob hoomin
snores gently.  That lump towards the foot of the bed?  It is the dog,
the Noble Allis Chompers, who has once again left her own cushy
fleece-lined dog bed and inserted herself into the people bed.
 
It is night, but there is light, and warmth!  The living room is
festooned with swags of little blue Christmas lights up near the cieling,
and there is a Christmas tree, blazing against one wall.  And what a
lovely tree it is!  The shiny ornaments reflect the glow from the
marvelous multicolored bubble lights, and the strings of tiny plastic
light-up John Deere tractors.
 
Beneath that tree, on a bed of rich red felt, are Switch the Kit and
Hurricane Lily, taking turns sipping from the delicious pine flavored
water in the green plastic resevoir at the base of the tree.
 
Lily, closing her eyes, hitching back her ears and dipping half of her
face into the water and blowing bubbles from her nose:
"Blurpl-urple-urple-blurp!!"
 
Switch laughs with delight as Lilly raises her face from the water and
shakes the crystal drops of it from her nose.  She says "Lily you're a
ferret, not a submarine!"
 
Lily continues to lick the water from her nose and whiskers and says
"Heeeeeeeee?.  "
 
"The presents?," replies Switch.  "I haven't smelled anything for us in
any of them yet, but c'mon, the hoomins know better than to leave
something like 'Tone wrapped up under the tree."
 
Lily draws in a breath as if she might reply, but she pauses, and gets a
far away look in her eyes instead.  A variety of emotions cross her face.
Some serious, some sad.
 
"What's wrong Lily?" asks Switch.
 
Lily just drops her head and says nothing, but sometimes you have to give
Lily a little time to gather her thoughts.  She likes to choose her words
carefully.  So switch gives half a hop, and stands to lick her friend
gently between the ears, dislodging a stray pine needle stuck in the grey
fur.  Finally Switch settles down on her haunches to wait.
 
"He-heee hee, heeee..." Lily begins quietly.
 
"Yes," replies Switch.  "I know your first hoomins gave you away.  Then a
nice lady named Risa took you in, and found our forever hoomins for you."
 
Lily continues "Hee-he-he.  He hee."
 
"Yes..." Switch replies with a thoughtful air.  "I imagine it's very
hard not to have forever hoomins, even if the ones taking care of you
are nice.  It couldn't be the same, no."
 
Lily says nothing, just lifts one paw to point up into the branches of
the tree silently.
 
"Huh?" says Switch, looking up with a puzzled expression on her face.
"What?  Oh..."Suddenly Lily's meaning dawns on her, and she says again
only "Oh...."
 
Switch and Lily's eyes meet silently.  The moment draws out.  Finally
Switch drops her eyes and says only one word, but with great emotion,
"Christmas." Lily nods in the affirmative.
 
Time passes, each lady considering silently to herself what it must mean
to be alone, maybe really afraid, maybe sick.  Maybe in a strange cage,
and with hoomins who might be nice, but don't smell right, don't smell
like home.  Home.  Safety.  The love of forever hoomins.  Loving hands
that know just where you like to be petted.  Loving hands that dole out
treats, and invite play.  The gentle rhytms and habits of home, as
comforting as the darkest tunnel, the snuggest burrow.
 
Well, Santa can't give all our little Brothers and Sisters in Fur a home
this year.  But you can give them a little piece of your heart.  Be a
Santa.
 
http://givingtree.friendsoffuzzies.com/page1.htm
 
http://www.mkaresq.com/ADV/advgt.htm
 
Alexandra in MA
[Posted in FML issue 4721]