It was a terribly hot day to be wearing a fur suit in Northern Central
Massachusetts. Even the thin, wiry summer fur suits were almost too
much for Todd and Caff-Pow. It was overcast with a light breeze that
tossed the jeweled, two-toned dragonflies about. The bees held tight to
the faces of the sun flowers as they swayed on their long prickly green
stems. The wrong, silvery side of the birch leaves were showing with
every gust, promising thunderstorms in the future. But for the moment,
it was just hot. Danged hot.

But that didn't seem to slow Todd or Caff-Pow down one bit. The screen
door slammed shut with a heavy wooden "slap" that was a summer sound in
and of itself. Two small gray weasels, one considerably larger than the
other rocketed from that door into the backyard and the sea of emerald
clover that carpeted the ground. Lazy black and yellow bumblebees,
collecting pollen from the tiny white clover blossoms were terrified by
the weasels high speed passage and flew off in a panic. Todd and
Caff-Pow were running at full gallop, straight up the hill and into the
vegetable garden. Bits of clover torn up by their claws were tossed
high into the air, and the Blue Jays sounded an alarm at the intrusion.
With a double "thup!" sound the boys slapped into and whipped through
the strawberry patch, and were gone from sight, disappearing entirely
below the enormous squash leaves.

Once there they both braked to a stop among the twisted vines and
enormous, star-shaped orange blossoms that lit up the vaulted cathedral
ceiling of the squash patch. They both flung themselves onto the cool
dirt and laughed helplessly, almost soundlessly among the baby
butternuts and zucchinis. It was the kind of laughter that wore you out
after a minute or two, the kind of laughter that slowly died down until
Todd and Caff-Pow made eye contact--then it started up again for
another round. Caff-Pow felt a tickle amongst his whiskers on one side
and realized that he had laughed so hard that he had shed a few crystal
tears. He fisted them away with one paw and panted to silence. Todd, by
then had loped over to the enormous deep green zucchini that the
hoomins had still not been able to see beneath the leaves and seated
himself against it like a sofa. Caff-Pow rolled over to it and seated
himself beside his friend, the laughter falling into a quiet chuckle
from one weasel or another until there was silence, broken only by the
stirring of the squash leaves by the breeze. Bars of sunlight pierced
the canopy, flared into brilliance and were extinguished by the next
gentle gust of wind.

The two settled into a companionable silence and spent a few minutes
cooling down from their mad dash across the back yard. Occasionally
there was a strange creak from the tasseled corn patch nearby, leaves
tossed by the breeze that had just started to bring with it the barest
scent of rain from a distance. The boys sat side by side, legs
stretched out in front of them and paws resting on their bellies. Todd
looked over at Caff-Pow to speak and then there was another wild gust
of laughter that lasted half a minute or so. Finally, the two regained
their composure and Todd said to Caff-Pow "I cannot...I cannot
*believe* that you did that!"

'Pow smiled a slow grin that showed quite a bit of fang and replied
"Oh, yeah, I did that!"

"The hoomin is going to lose her mind when she finds it," replied Todd.

"Yes, well, I couldn't pass up the opportunity," said 'Pow with another
chuckle. "I mean, we've been hiding her Crocs on her for so long you'd
think she'd just give up and like, invest in sneakers. "

"Oh, man! I love fresh sneaker rubber." grinned Todd. "That stuff is
wooonderful! You can chew it for hours before it loses its flavor."

The two ferrets fell silent for a moment, thinking their private
thoughts but both with a smile on their snouts.

Finally Todd rubbed his chin with one paw contemplatively and asked
"Do you think it will sink?"

"Never!" chuckled " Caff-Pow.

At just that moment there was a muted bellow from the house, a bellow
that suggested not only horror, but frustration. Both boys instantly
doubled over laughing, holding their bellies and kicking at the cool
dirt with their heels. "She found it, she found it!" hollered Caff-Pow.
Todd wailed "I can't staaand it!"

The bathroom window shot open at that moment and a single purple rubber
Croc shoe, dripping wet, was hurled out if it and into the herb garden.
It bounced off of a decorative trellis and lay on the ground, rocking.
The she-hoomin's voice came from that same window, another bellow but
this one had graduated to coherent words. "YOU FILTHY BEASTS! STAY OUT
THERE!"

Todd and Caff-Pow only laughed harder.

"I COULD HAVE FLUSHED THAT YOU MONSTERS!" followed from the bathroom
window.

The chittering weasel laughter came from beneath the enormous squash
leaves for a long time that afternoon, witnessed only by the puzzled
Jays and the big gray squirrels that helped themselves from the
sunflower seed feeder. The abandoned purple Croc, decorated with a
hundred little needle-like fang dimples in the rubber slowly dried in
the sun, and a wonderful day unfolded, at least if you were a weasel.

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 6770]