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]