So there they were--two ferrets, two otters, gathered together atop the
sledding hill behind the Elementary School in the cold, cold New England
night.  They stood in a circle, and at their feet was France the
Hedgehog, who had finally gotten over her rage attack, regained her
feet, and started to speak, very quietly.
 
"Youuu left me.  Youuuu ferretss.  Youuu wen' away in de tractor, an'
youuu left me.  I 'ate youuu.." She spoke looking at the ground, never
once raising her head, her little shivering shoulders slumped in defeat.
 
Nobody spoke.  What could they possibly say?  It was true.  Ping and
Puma*had* left her, sneaking out of the Ferret Room very quietly on
purpose, just so they wouldn't have to deal with her bad temper and snide
remarks.  But right now, both Ping and Puma felt....rather small.  It had
seemed like a good idea at the time.  Ping's gaze met Pumas, and they
both looked away quickly, guiltily.  Oh, how embarrassing, and in front
of the *otters*.....
 
The First otter cleared his throat with a deep rumble and said "It is
much too cold for you here Miss Porcu-- um...Hog.  Could I perhaps pick
you up?  My fur is quite warm."
 
France sighed wearily, and merely nodded.  This was not like her at all.
She was truly...hurt?  Could France *be* hurt?  The First otter reached
down, gently engulfed the little Hedgehog in his big paws, stood, and
gathered her to his chest, cradling her in the warmth of his arms.  The
Second otter stepped up to the First, and tenderly stroked her tiny head,
and made gentle crooning sounds.  He turned to look over his shoulder at
the little ferrets, and said "We need to bring her home.  I think I saw
a mitten on the ground over to the left, under the trees.  Would you two
please look?"
 
Ping and Puma merely nodded, their faces hot with shame.  Who could have
imagined that France would have *walked* the quarter mile to get here
through the cold night?  True, she had said that sledding sounded like
a stupid idea when Ping and Puma had discussed it in the Ferret Room
yesterday, but then she was pretty much uniformly critical, it was her
nature.  Still, they should have offered to take her, and they knew it.
They trotted over to the tree line and searched the ground, sniffing.
 
"Here!" said Ping. Caught on the bare twigs of a ground hugging
blueberry bush was an adult hoomin sized pink and white mitten.  He
picked it up in his teeth and headed back toward the otters, and Puma
whirled to follow him.  Ping dropped the mitten at the First otters
feet.  He said "France could maybe fit in there."
 
The Second said "That was precisely my hope.  Would you allow us to
assist you Miss Hog?"  He asked this of France with a kind smile in his
eyes, with the implied promise that he would help her, but allow her as
much dignity as he possibly could.  It is in an otter's nature to be
kind.  (Except to fish.)
 
France merely nodded, and the two otters worked in tandem to wiggle her
into the mitten so that her face stuck out from the cuff opening, and the
thumb protruded from her back like a little pink shark's fin.  Her whole
body fit into the knit wool hand perfectly.  It was a little snug, but
she was undoubtedly much warmer, cradled once again in the First otter's
arms.
 
"Well," said the First, "let's take Miss Hog home for a good hot mug of
cocoa."
 
At the mention of hot cocoa, everybody started speaking all at once,
affirming that this was an excellent idea, especially Ping, who loved
anything and everything chocolate.  "Dude!" said Ping.  "Delightful"
said the Second otter.  "Oh, yes!" said Puma.
 
"NO!" yelled France.
 
And everyone was silent again.  She looked at each weasel in turn, and
said quietly "I wan' to go sleddin'."
 
"But--"said the First otter...
 
"I WAN' TO GO SLEDDIN' YOU BIG FERRET THIEF!  ALL YOU FERRETS ARE THIEFS!
AN' YOU SMELLLL LIKE FISH!!  I 'ATE YOUUU!"
 
"But--"said the Second otter....
 
"Nowwwww...." France said quietly with great menace.  It's hard to be
menacing with a pink wool shark fin protruding from your back, but she
managed.
 
And that is how Ping found himself on the First otter's back with France
tucked beneath his chest..  Ping was holding onto the First's fur tightly
with his paws, and to the mitten thumb with his teeth.  France was lying
as flat as she could, her whiskers perky with excitement, her eyes
bright!  And then the First, lying on the snow at the top of the sledding
trail, was given a push from behind by the Second.....and the three
gathered speed.  Faster, faster, and faster the rushed down the hill, the
wind sharp in their faces, and it was *France* who was overheard to yell
"Deliiiiightfull!"
 
Alexandra in MA
[Posted in FML issue 5119]