I tried to think of the best way to thank the Moyers Business for the beautiful, beautiful John Deere bedding they just sent Ping and Puma from far away California. They like Tractor Stories. AHA!!! Thank you so much, guys! It's beautiful. Alexandra in MA *********************************************************************** It was a seasonably chilly night in November in the Sargent-Colburn's lower driveway. There was an orange crescent moon hanging low in the sky, and tethered to it like a little pet dog going for a walk, was the bright yellow orb of Mars, sparkling his very best and brightest. Every breath of wind stirred leaves which fell from the trees, and skated along the ground in fragrant, nutty-smelling drifts. There in the lower driveway was the green and yellow 1966 model 1020 John Deere tractor with the battered iron bucket. It wasn't moving tonight. It was quiet and still, and the iron was cold. But beneath its belly, there was a warm glow. It was a little round can of pink sterno, aflame. Atop the can was a small round metal grill, made from tiny welded bars.(Puma had a very delicate touch with a welding torch, but lighting the thing still scared the fur right off of her back!) Sitting atop the metal grill was a cat food can, full of a brown, bubbling, aromatic substance. It simmered, gently, giving off fragrant steam. Watching the little campfire, their backs leaning up against the left rear tire were Ping and Puma, bundled up against the cold in the most beautiful bedding you could possibly imagine! A pale green square, sprinkled with puffy clouds and little engravings of green and yellow John Deere tractors, the kind with enormous wheels in the back, and tiny little ones up front. It was fleece on the inside, and that was Ping's blanket, wrapped around him. Puma had a matching fleece lined sleepy sack that she was tucked into, and she was snuggled up tight against Ping. They weren't talking much, they were just happy watching the little flames from their campfire. Suddenly, Ping smelled something....something familiar, yet wild, on the breeze. He turned his nose into the direction of the scent, and there, down low to the ground, were two shiny eyes. "Dude,"said Ping, "look over there!" Puma turned her head in the direction indicated, and she, too, saw the eyes! Small, dark eyes, spaced very much like their own. They blinked nervously, the owner of the eyes was clearly watching Ping and Puma. Finally, the owner stepped forward out of the shadows, and he looked like a shadow, himself! A ferret shadow, only a little different. He was dark, dark brown, like bitter chocolate. His coat was thick and glossy. His neck and haunches were thick with muscle. Beneath his chin, he had a white patch the size of a quarter. Puma squinted at him very hard, her brow furrowed in concentration, but then she relaxed and smiled, and said "Cousin Mink! You're a Mink!" The mink smiled gently then trotted up to her and touched noses very gently, sniffing her nose first, ears last. He and Ping both stretched to meet halfway, and touch noses, brush whiskers. The Mink said in a quiet voice "Cousin Ferrets, my Cousins!" Well, the Mink stayed for a nice, long visit, and shared the cat food can of kibble and raisin stew with Ping and Puma, once it cooled down enough that all three heads could bend down to the can, and lap from it. The Mink got his Cousins all caught up on the swamp gossip from that summer and fall. Ping and Puma got the Mink all caught up on the recent FLO Bulletins and activity. Then, it was time for the visit to end. The Mink said "It will be a long, cold winter. They always are. You are lucky to have those furs that are not fur." Ping said "You mean these?" and held up a corner of his blanket with one paw for the Mink to see. "Yes," said the Mink. "Those would be wonderful when the snow comes. My coat is good. I am proud of my coat. But we wilds have none of the furs that are not fur." Puma said "You can take my sleepy sack, it will keep you warm." The Mink said "Oh, may I?," with light shining from his eyes. "Please!" said Puma, climbing out of the warm sack. "C'mere, Dude!" said Ping, standing and wrapping his blanket around Puma and himself. The Mink took a corner of the sleepy sack in his mouth and mumbled "Fang ooo!", then disappeared into the shadows once more, dragging the sack behind him. __END__ [Posted in FML issue 5055]