Hi, all- I met a little girl coming across the Bridge, her name was Matilda. What a beautiful name! She was a beautiful girl,and she chose to remain the silvery color that she had known in her last few years in the World of the Living, only better. A true, pure silver, that sparkled in the sunshine. Even her whiskers were silver! Well, I chatted with her for a little while, and I gave her her wings and her hammie. (Soft white wool, to contrast nicely with her coat.) I asked her what she wanted to see or to do first, and she asked me if there were any kits in the Afterworld. I told her that there were indeed many kits here, and that I was always looking for gentle souls to help take care of them until they were re-united with their mommies. She said that *her* Hoomin Mommy used to sing to her. Did I think that the kits would like it if she sang for them? I knew that they would, and I told her so. I asked her to stash her wings and her hammie, and follow me to the nearest Wild Black Footed Ferret camp, only a few minutes trot away through the long grass. There are always kits there! The Wilds are such good natured entertainers. They love to laugh and play, and are a natural with kits of all ages. Sure enough, we found several dozen kits at the camp, laughing and playing chase with each other while the Wilds kept an affectionate eye on them, some even joining in the game themselves. I called for attention and asked the little ones if they wanted to hear a song. Dozens of little voices squeaked in the affirmative! I introduced Matilda, and soon she was surrounded by a ring, several kits deep. She lay down in the middle of it, and then they lay down, too. Matilda began her first song, and I'm afraid I can't really explain it to you Hoomins, because it was in an animal language that your kind forgot how to understand long, long ago. It was a soft song about being alone, and then not being alone, and how good it felt not to be alone anymore. Maybe that sounds corny, but it was a beautiful song, and halfway through it the kits and the Wilds started to sing along with her, because it was a very simple song, too, and that was part of its appeal. Now Matilda sings for the Kits every afternoon after Third Nap. In fact, her soft, mellow voice sings most of them right into Fourth Nap! I met another little girl coming across the Bridge. Her name was Baby Cakes, and she was born to fly. That's what she told me, right after I introduced myself, and she was re-united with her friend Cloud Dancer. Baby Cakes wanted her wings right away. No problem! The three of us strapped our wings on, and lifted up one by one into the bright blue sky. Baby Cakes was the last to lift off, and let out a yell when she was just a little bit off of the ground. I thought that maybe she had her wings on wrong, and the strap was pinching her, but no. Cloud Dancer told me not to worry, that was the sound of pure joy! And it was. Baby Cakes has got to be the *loudest* flyer that I have ever heard! She swoops through the sky, shouting "YIPPEE!" at top volume. She yells, she yowls, she even yodels like a Swiss mountainclimber! She spins, she spirals, she pivots, she drops like a stone and catches herself at the last possible instant like a stunt plane! Frankly, she scares the HECK out of me! That afternoon I learned that it is a lot easier to sit on the ground and enjoy her skill from a distance, than it is to try to keep up with her. In no time at all there was a crowd of us on the ground, marveling at her daredevil antics with "oohs' and "ahhs!" And every now and then, a faint "YIPEE!" could be heard on the breeze! I met a little guy coming across the worn wooden planks of the Bridge. His name was Snekers, and his Business of Spirit, Panda, and Raskil waited for him with me. He walked up to us and said "I feel...wonderful. Wonderful!" His Brother in Fur Spirit stepped forward and gently touched noses with Snekers, and said "There are no sick cages, here, ever. There aren't even any cages! There is no sick here!" Panda and Raskil stepped forward and told Snekers the same things. No vets! No needles! For a whils Snekers had trouble taking it all in, and I was afraid that maybe he needed a little time in a Recovery Hammie. I suggested it, but then he seemed to rally, and seemed to shrug it off. It *is* a lot to take in, when your final illness is such that it seems all you know is smelling sick, and having sickness in your fur, sickness in your bed. Snekers relaxed quite a bit, and his whiskers really stopped drooping when Spirit told him all about the Fruit Bar. And the Ferretone Fountain. And Panda spoke up about the Sock Mountain, and the Tube Cube. And Raskil said that was all nothing, what about the giant Red Sandstone Canyon full of millions of fresh rolls of white toilet paper to shred? By then, Snekers eyes were big and round. "And when you're tired of that," said Spirit, "there's always the Plain of Wastebaskets to tip over. Thousands of them. Millions of them!" That was when Snekers lost it. He trotted over to the Recovery Hammie and hopped right up into it, muttering "Millions of them...millions of them!" P.S. He tipped over one hundred and six of them that afternoon! Sandee [Posted in FML issue 4641]