Ping laid himself down on the cool wooden floor like a sphinx, and waited
patiently while the First otter's weeping grew slow, and tired, and
finally became soundless.  And he thought all the while, he thought very
hard, and you have to understand that thinking is not the thing that Ping
does best.  He knew he wasn't the smartest ferret, not the best educated
in either hoomin arts or the arts of the wild.  He came from a long line
of domesticated ancestors, and in that way he knew that he had a paw in
both camps, but it was a shaky one.  He wore his fur proudly, but he knew
that he did not fully appreciate the wild, what it meant to be wild,
what it must mean to lose the wilderness that is the home to many of his
Brothers and Sisters in Fur.  The otters had been born free, and clearly,
seeing the wild vanish one bulldozer bucket at a time was extremely
painful for them.  Ping never thought he would see an otter cry, not
these fellows who loved life so much, who embraced every day the way a
dog a bounds into the car when it's time to go for a ride...with the
greatest,most pure enthusiasm.  An otter's tears... Finally, Ping
spoke-"Cousin Dudes, I have to agree with France.  I never thought I
*would* agree with France about anything, really, but I think she is
right.  The fire you're talking about is really just revenge, and revenge
is a hoomin thing.  I don't want to know what revenge would smell like
in my fur.  And hoomins...If you burn down those condo thingies, they'll
just build more."
 
The First otter sighed deeply and said in a weak voice "Yes, I understand
what you have said.  I don't want to be like them either, but it hurts so
to have to be the one to adjust to their selfishness, the casual way they
destroy.  I don't want to be the victim anymore.  Why do we animals have
to be the gracious victims *over* and over again?...After he said this he
rested his head on his brother's shoulder, and dropped back into silence.
 
"I don't know, Dude, I don't know,"said Ping.  "Hoomins are the best and
the worst, all at the same time.  My first hoomin dumped me in a shelter,
but wonderful lady hoomins took me in, and found me a forever home.  It
almost makes your head hurt trying to understand them.  Let's just have
s'mores here in the fireplace, and be glad we have fur."
 
And that is just what they did.  Puma crawled out from beneath the
towels, France climbed back out of her habitat, and when the hoomins came
back from their vacation, they were completely perplexed to discover
melted marshmallow and bits of sardines in a ring around the inside of
the bathtub.  And the condos?  They are still in place, each with two
new baby maple trees in the front yard, and a big garage.  And if you
are really quiet after a hard rain...sometimes you can hear the sound
of water, hidden, and struggling for the sea...
 
_End_
 
Alexandra in MA
[Posted in FML issue 5375]