It is a beautiful raw fall night in Central Massachusetts. The day's
bone-cold rain had made the ground give up its rich scents of earth and
moss, and the wind blew drifts of crimson and gold leaves along the
grass with every gust. They tumbleweeded across the hoomin's back yard,
and came to rest tangled in the line of blueberry and mountain laurel
bushes that ringed the lawn, the wide expanse open to the stars, now
that all the clouds had gone. Two small ferrets sat on the wooden
planking of the back deck facing that lawn and in full view of those
stars, huddled together in a warm fleece sleepy sack, just their heads
out and pointed up at the dark velvet night sky. Stars twinkled in that
sky. Big red giants. Blazing blue white ones. Twinkling yellow ones.

Ping said quietly to Puma "But what does it all *mean*? HSUS. Apis.
S.O.S. And PETA."

"And DMK," muttered Puma, darkly. Both shuddered a bit at the mention
of those letters. The two weren't sure what that one, especially,
meant but they knew they wouldn't like the reality, whatever it was.

The two were quiet for a time, considering. And in that time a
particularly sharp gust of wind ruffled the fur of their faces, and
each helped groom the other one back to their proper state--Ping
grooming carefully around Puma's ears (she was ticklish there) and
Puma spending extra time on the fur right on top of Ping's snout, which
never quite lay flat the way she thought it ought to. Then the two went
back to gazing up at the stars, comforted by the moist presence of one
another's scents that the grooming had brought out.

Finally Ping broke the silence by asking "Is this a Shelter?"

Puma replied "This is a home."

Ping continued "But what if our hoomins are hoarders?"

Puma repeated "This is a home."

"The cat hoards fur mice, you know that he does" said Ping. "He has
maybe twenty under the sofa."

Puma calmly replied "This is a home, Ping--our home. You, me, the
cat, the dog and our hoomins. It's our forever home."

Time passed. A sharply etched white star streaked across the sky,
and fell on the other side of the world. Both ferrets murmured their
pleasure and appreciation of the event.

Finally Ping, his dark bandit mask tight with concentration asked
more than a little fearfully "We're not going to get rescued, are
we? I don't want to be rescued."

"No," answered Puma. "This is a good home."

Time passed, quietly.

Finally Ping turned halfway around in the sleepy sack to face Puma and 
asked  "Are there stars in Ohio?"

"I'm sure of it," answered Puma.

"Wishing stars?" he continued.

"Wishing stars," said Puma "lots of wishing stars just like here."

Ping turned around to look back up at the sky once again. "I bet they
wished hard in that...place."

"Very hard," said Puma.

"Very hard," said Ping. "And one finally listened."

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 5756]