The other day I Greeted a beautiful dark fellow named Hershey at the
Bridge.  He came across easily, and was delighted with his new strap
on wings!  He wanted to try them out immediately.  We conferred, and
arrangements were made.
 
That is how we made our way to a place I especially enjoy, and have
occasion to visit often, the Beverage Toss!  I helped Hershey buckle
in and adjust his straps, and he lifted off of the ground, very gently.
He gave a few experimental flaps, and was quickly showing real control.
Not everyone gains control so easily!  I followed him, and we began our
first bombing run.
 
I took the lead, and flew toward the first line of wooden bookcases
topped with clear glass goblets of brilliant red cranberry juice.  Oh,
my mouth waters to think of it!  I swooped, and knocked three of the
glasses off, where they fell onto the white shag carpeting below, and
made huge crimson splashes!  I circled, and came back, and took down four
more, knocking them down with my back feet.  Splat!  Crash!  Shatter!
 
Hershey made his run, and toppled two Waterford Crystal glasses of orange
juice.  Not bad for a first try!  He laughed with delight, and circled
around for another run.  That time he took down three more, then he
changed course for the grape section.
 
We spent an hour in the air, and made an unspeakable mess.  It was
wonderful!
 
Hershey decided he would like to spend some time reuniting with his
Hoomin Ada's Business of Smokey, Missy Lily Pod, Romeo Jake, and Juliet
Kiley.  I told him that they spend most of their time with the Wilds,
the Black Footed Ferrets in their Camp.  Nobody, but nobody parties like
the Wilds!
 
We stowed our wings and trotted along the path to the Camp, a maze of
underground tunnels and burrows dug in the sandy soil, dotted with
central clearings at ground level where they hold their famous dances
nightly.  It was already sunset, and the campfires were being lit in
each clearing, and all the Brothers and Sisters in Fur were gathering
to dance.
 
We found Hershey's Business with no difficulty, and they danced late
into the night, and sang, and laughed, and spoke of their Hoomin Ada, and
how they had teased her over the years...made her search for them under
the furniture, and nipped at her toes.  They were loving stories, told to
the accompanyment of the haunting harmonies of the Wilds, who sing very
complicated songs about hunting beneath starry skies.  It was a wonderful
reunion!
 
Sandee
[Posted in FML issue 5112]