Wow, a really suave fella arrived the other day with a beautiful name.
Anakin Skywalker Baxter.  Out of the glow at the end of the bridge
appeared a stunning looking young man.  He looked like a model.  His
steps were a bit unsure, but he saw Luka by my side and the site of her
was a comfort.  I was taken back by his wings.  They were sort of ...
special edition if you will.  They flowed in feathery, silver trails
behind him.  He was unimpressed as if this was natural and very familiar.
He was not familiar with being here though.  He knew where he was.  He
just couldn't figure out how he got here.  It was all explained and he
tried to look back over the bridge.  I told him not to and that he was
free and part of everything now.  Time is non existent here.  We just
have eternity.  A million years can be a second.  A second can be a
million years.  If he is eager to be reunited with Kahlua and his mom,
you know that will happen in a second.  There is no time to grieve here.
Only time to heal and be renewed.
 
So just like ferrets do, we let joy over take us and we moved on to tour
the sites.  Oh and boy did we.  This is a vibrant ferret, so he is going
to be very, very busy exploring everything.  He is a flyer, so I'm sure
he'll be bad and slip off onto trips to explore where the mink and
wolverine are.  And worse ... where the kitties are.  He's going to be a
corker, I just know it.  Anyway, I showed him the sites, such as shoots
and ladders, laundry mountain, and best yet, a turkey basin!  What a mess
he made on his face there when he lapped up the turkey.  Poor fella.  A
dozen ferrets appeared to lick his face clean before he could clean it
himself.  He had the silliest look on his face by the time it was done.
Somehow I don't think he minded.  But it spirited him up, and he danced
around in circles until he came to Luka and bit her on on the butt.  He
says he didn't.  He said he bit the back of her thigh.  Whatever!
 
I want his mommy to know that soon, there will be meteor showers.
Baxter plans on surfing the skies on the falling stars.  The streaks of
silver ... will be his.
[Posted in FML issue 5015]