Ping laid himself down on the cool wooden floor like a sphinx, and waited patiently while the First otter's weeping grew slow, and tired, and finally became soundless. And he thought all the while, he thought very hard, and you have to understand that thinking is not the thing that Ping does best. He knew he wasn't the smartest ferret, not the best educated in either hoomin arts or the arts of the wild. He came from a long line of domesticated ancestors, and in that way he knew that he had a paw in both camps, but it was a shaky one. He wore his fur proudly, but he knew that he did not fully appreciate the wild, what it meant to be wild, what it must mean to lose the wilderness that is the home to many of his Brothers and Sisters in Fur. The otters had been born free, and clearly, seeing the wild vanish one bulldozer bucket at a time was extremely painful for them. Ping never thought he would see an otter cry, not these fellows who loved life so much, who embraced every day the way a dog a bounds into the car when it's time to go for a ride...with the greatest,most pure enthusiasm. An otter's tears... Finally, Ping spoke-"Cousin Dudes, I have to agree with France. I never thought I *would* agree with France about anything, really, but I think she is right. The fire you're talking about is really just revenge, and revenge is a hoomin thing. I don't want to know what revenge would smell like in my fur. And hoomins...If you burn down those condo thingies, they'll just build more." The First otter sighed deeply and said in a weak voice "Yes, I understand what you have said. I don't want to be like them either, but it hurts so to have to be the one to adjust to their selfishness, the casual way they destroy. I don't want to be the victim anymore. Why do we animals have to be the gracious victims *over* and over again?...After he said this he rested his head on his brother's shoulder, and dropped back into silence. "I don't know, Dude, I don't know,"said Ping. "Hoomins are the best and the worst, all at the same time. My first hoomin dumped me in a shelter, but wonderful lady hoomins took me in, and found me a forever home. It almost makes your head hurt trying to understand them. Let's just have s'mores here in the fireplace, and be glad we have fur." And that is just what they did. Puma crawled out from beneath the towels, France climbed back out of her habitat, and when the hoomins came back from their vacation, they were completely perplexed to discover melted marshmallow and bits of sardines in a ring around the inside of the bathtub. And the condos? They are still in place, each with two new baby maple trees in the front yard, and a big garage. And if you are really quiet after a hard rain...sometimes you can hear the sound of water, hidden, and struggling for the sea... _End_ Alexandra in MA [Posted in FML issue 5375]