Hey, Ralphie! Look!

 

            It was black. That’s probably why Suzy noticed it. Few things in the forest are flat black. It should have been some kind of camo, or flat dark green. But there it hung, suspended at about six feet above the ground on a nice maple trunk. Suzy pulled it down.
            Somebody would have found it anyhow. It was “hot.” It gave off a radiance that was somewhere between visible and audible, or maybe tactile. For some, these things stand out like a traffic light. Most humans would never notice one unless they tripped over it or it fell on them.
            “It’s a human thing obviously,” Suzy told Uncle Bob.
            “Where’d you get it?” said Uncle Bob. “Why bring it here, Suzy?”
            She held it before herself on two hands. Suzy wanted Uncle Bob to get a good look. It was just a bland looking rectangular black thing with some bumps and ridges and so on.
            “Bob,” she said in Saslingua, “Look at it. It’s evil. And it smells bad.”
            “Well, yeah, it makes me itch when I look at it. I wonder why they make those things,” said Uncle Bob.
            “You know what I think?” said Suzy. “I’m from far in the backwoods. I have simple ideas. Here is one of them. I think those things are soul suckers!”
            “Well, we could just smash it to pieces with a big rock. Would that make you feel safe?”
            “Maybe. But I’m not sure. There might be souls already in it, Bob!” yelped Suzy in alarm. “What if we smashed it and that…I don’t know! Would that kill somebody’s soul?” she said.
            They stood staring at each other beside the Stump House. It didn’t feel so sweet and homey there at the moment. Smoke drifted up from Suzy’s fireplace. Crows flew over making loud comments. A cool little breeze lifted just the tips of their hair, as if questioning.
            “Let’s take it to Ralph,” said Uncle Bob at last. “He’ll think of something.”
            So, to spare Suzy, Uncle Bob put the black thing under his own arm, and they headed down the well worn path to the Home Clearing to show it to Ralph. It wasn’t a long walk.
            Ralph wasn’t on his big cedar log, so they figured he must be down by the fire.
            He was. So was everyone else. Ramona was dishing up some nice pieces of roast pheasant.
            “That’s a wolf,” said Suzy, when she saw Blue Star crouched down beside Cherry’s feet.
            “She’s just a baby, Auntie Suzy,” said Cherry. “Her name is Blue Star. But we just call her Blue. She has blue eyes!”
            “I can see that now,” said Suzy. But she was nervous around wolves, even baby wolves.
            Ralph saw Suzy’s discomfort. “Blue’s OK, Suzy. I’ve seen no harm in her at all! You can even pet her if it would help. She’s nice and fuzzy!” said Ralph.
            Blue watched Suzy take a seat on one of the fireside logs with her icy light blue eyes and a wolfie smile.
            Holding out the black thing, Uncle Bob said, “Hey, Ralphie! Look!”
            “I’m looking! Where’d that come from? You know about those things, right?” said Ralph.
            “It’s a soul sucker,” said Suzy, with finality.
            “It’s more of a snooper,” said Ralph. “It makes pictures of whoever walks by it and triggers its camera. It keeps sounds too! I admit it does sound a little like a soul sucker!”
            “Oh, if it’s just another camera,” said Ramona, “Let’s just smash it. No problem!”
            “I have a better idea,” said Ralph. “It has two parts. Watch this!”
            So, Ralph took the black thing. He looked directly into its eye, giving it a real good look at himself. He turned his head from side to side. He grinned. He made a fake mad face too, then he winked. Then he said, “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I have a little bit of a message to leave you.
            “We are not bugs, snakes, or fish, or raccoons. Study them! Not us!
            “We are people. Think about it. Would you  hang cameras in some other human’s house just to study him? No, of course not.
            “So, stop it! Maybe at some convenient time when you are sitting in the forest just sensing it all, I will come by and say hello.. My choice! Peace!” said Ralph, still staring into the camera.
            “Ramona, if we find any more of those things, you can deal with them!” laughed Ralph. “Then I’ll go put the junk in the dumpster by the ranger station. Rick won’t know a thing!”
            “Bob, I want the guy who planted this thing to find it. Where should we put it?”
            “I don’t know, Ralphie. Maybe we should just give it to Ranger Rick. Then he can give it to the police or something,” said Uncle Bob.
            “No, I don’t think Rick would know who it belonged to,” said Ralph.
            “Oh, yeah, Ralphie,” said Uncle Bob.
            “It’s gotta go back to the right guy,” Ralph said earnestly.
            Cherry looked at Ralph, with an impish little grin on her face. “I know what! Put it right back where Auntie Suzy found it! That’s where he will look for it, for the pictures! Right?”
            Of course, that was perfect, and true.
            So, Ralph, Twigg, Uncle Bob, Auntie Suzy, accompanied by Bob and Berry found the tree where Suzy had noticed the black thing. Ralph tied it back up with some strips of bark. Then they all got out of there.
            On the way back to the Stump House they found two more of those things.
            “I think I’ll just roll this big old rock over,” said Ralph, “And tuck them under there. Ramona won’t mind if she doesn’t have to smash them.”
            Uncle Bob and Suzy stayed there at the Stump House.
            “If you find anymore of those darn things, let me know!” said Ralph.
            Then Ralph, his boy, and his cats walked on down the path to the Home Clearing.
            “That investigator is going to be pretty surprised,” said Twigg, laughing a little.
            “He sure is,” agreed Ralph, serenely.

🍁💚🍂

It's Butter Your Cat Day Again!

Sommer Katzen

It’s awfully hot the kitty said,

In this fur coat of mine!

My mind is languid.

I’m full of sleep,

As you will observe.

In my summer dreams I pace

A jungle, a desert, a mountain.

Wild again!

Then I rouse to find a cooler place,

For dreaming. 

🤍

The Story of Cherry and Blue, The Wolf Child

💙 A Happy Tootsday to All before we begin!💙

            It was Mother Wolf’s last litter, and she knew it. Only two had been born that spring. One had lived. She was a cream colored female cub, who was quite large for a wolf cub. It might have been because her sire had a bit of giant Malemute in him. It showed in his face a bit. It also showed in his daughter’s face. In her cream fur she had some dark markings, and her eyes were an unearthly light blue.
            Now, this Mother Wolf and Cherry were pretty good friends already, since were able to talk together. They understood each other’s hearts. Mother knew a good thing when she saw her, and she knew that her big cub and Cherry needed each other. It was a motherly kind of knowing and concern for both Cherry and this cub, unnamed as yet.
            Ralph had Maeve. Twigg had Berry and Bob, but they both claimed Ramona also, if you could have asked them. They watched her carefully and with utter feline devotion.
            Mother Wolf knew that Cherry needed a wolf. She just knew it. So, one day she strolled up to Bob out along the trail somewhere and told him of her plan and asked his cooperation and his brother’s, who was silently listening.
She introduced her child to them right there on the trail.  Both agreed that they could live with a wolf around, since she would be young and they could make sure she knew what she needed to know.
            Mother Wolf talked to Maeve, who talked to Ralph, who talked to Ramona. All were pleased to welcome the big cub into the family. Ralph didn’t think this addition would require much more hunting or fishing. His theory, being Ralph and all, was that there is always enough for one more, or several.
            So, with the groundwork laid, Mother Wolf sought Cherry in the general vicinity of the Home Clearing. She found her out by the berm which hosted Rabbit Town. When located, she was sitting on the grass with a whole class of little brown cottontails, trying to get them to sing with her. It was a funny sight, and the bunnies could only squeak a bit, but they squeaked the song together as well as they could, considering. The song was called, “Come out and Play.”
            Several yellow butterflies twinkled about their heads in a single beam of sunlight.
            Mother approached slowly, hoping not to frighten the bunnies, with the big cub in tow behind her.
            The bunnies scrambled back into their burrows, just to be sure. Bunnies are very cautious, as you know! And they should be.
            “Hello, Mama Wolf,” said Cherry. “Hello, Blue Star,” she said without thinking. It just popped out the way names do sometimes. Thus, the cub was named Blue Star.
           “Hello Cherry,” said Mother Wolf in her voiceless way, which Cherry understood just fine. “I’m sorry I scattered your class. But, they will come back tomorrow for sure.”

            “They will. They always do,” agreed Cherry.
            Mother Wolf sat down on her haunches, wrapped her tail tightly around her feet and spoke to Cherry. The cub, Blue Star now, sat belly down beside her mother and waited, looking from face to face as they talked.
            “Cherry, this is my last cub, the only survivor of my last litter. There will be no more.”
            Cherry and Blue Star looked at each other as if memorizing what they saw.
            “Go to her,” Mother Wolf told her child with a gruff little wolf sound.
            Cherry waited quietly.
            Then, Blue Star, the wolf child came to Cherry and never left her side again as long as she lived.
            They embraced as children and canids have done since time began. There was laughter and happy yipping and all sorts of affectionate goofing.
            Mother Wolf looked on for a few moments. Then she slipped away into the depths of the forest. Her heart was satisfied.
            Cherry looked up too late to see Mother Wolf leave.
            “Oh, your mama’s gone,” she said. “Well, Blue, I will take care of you now. Let’s go see what my mama is doing.”
            So, of course, that’s just what they did.
            Most of the time the wolf child was just called Blue.

🐺

A Folktale Translated from the Saslingua

            Many long moons ago when all the forest and meadows were merry and free, there lived a family apart from others. There were so few of the people that many times no one saw anyone else for long times.
            As is always righteous, there was a papa, a mama, and four little ones of stair-stepped ages. The youngest was still at the breast. Then there was a three year old, a five year old and an eight year old. All were model children.
            Papa was stern and yet kind. He was dark, lanky and very tall. His name meant “In Front.” Whatever came to them, came to him first.
            Mama was shorter and rounder, as is often the case. She was almost a blond. Her name, translated, meant “She is There.” Even the old-timers liked a joke or two, of the mild variety. She certainly was there!
            In those days people often had a name for use in childhood. When they became of marriageable age, a new name was found for them befitting their own nature.
            So, the children were known as “Bud,” “Leaf,” “Lily,” and finally, the oldest was known as “Stalk,” or merely “Son.” All the rest were girls.
            The people in those days ate what the land provided. Each season had its gifts, sometimes shoots, sometimes fruits, and sometimes roots. (That does not rhyme in Saslingua.)
            Also, In Front and Stalk hunted animals for meat. There were two methods In Front was teaching the boy by example. One was to run it down and grab it and break its neck quickly. The papa was faster than a deer and had phenomenal stamina. He could outrun any deer he chose for his family.
            The other method was rock throwing. Women and children were encouraged to practice rock throwing until their aim was useful and sure. Men did this too, especially when hunting birds, or other small things like rabbits.
            She is There was very handy with a handful sized chunk of granite. The three older children were working on it every day. They learned how to live from their parents.
            Surely, in those days, no one would interfere with anyone else’s children. It was not done.
            The children orbited their mother as if they were her moons, and they sat before their father as learners once they were old enough to follow him.
            When they first married, In Front and She is There began building a place of cover to sleep inside of. It was more than a pile of brush! But it wasn’t quite a permanent house either. It was a largish hut made of branches and bark. They added materiel to it every year. It was sturdy and looked like part of the landscape. Plants and grass grew on it, making it more and more water proof as the years went on. She is There filled it with mosses and dry grasses, and changed those frequently, as they got matted down and dirty. It pleased her to keep a pleasant home.
            They didn’t use fire.
            One day, in the summer of the year, She is There took Bud and went to the meadow near her home to see what might be had for the gathering. It was a bit late for shoots and a bit early for fruits, so she was looking pretty hard at some seed heads on grasses. She was just chewing some of these seeds to see how they tasted when she noticed something so frightening that she stopped breathing for a moment. Her hand covered her mouth in horror.
            Surely this creature must be ill she thought. It was almost like a person as it sat there on the ground doing something unheard of by all her people.
            It was as small as a child and had almost no hair. Just a bit on its head and this hair wasn’t loose like hair normally was. It was arranged in some way. She could see that the sick thing must be a female, by its breasts. But then it had some sort of material wrapped around itself. Perhaps because it had lost its hair, she wondered. The female creature’s appearance was horrible!            She is There would have thought this was a Fey, if she had known the concept because the small whitehaired creature had fire on the ground before herself and did not flee it. In fact, she kept putting more little sticks and stuff into it and it kept growing. Then to She is There’s horror and amazement the creature began putting meat over this fire, meat that was threaded onto green twigs and held over the fire by some sort of contrivance to keep it from burning up.
            She is There deeply feared fire, but she held her ground watching from the cover of the underbrush.
            The whitehaired thing began speaking or perhaps chanting, but it didn’t sound like speech to She is There, because her people didn’t speak aloud. It was some sort of outlandish gabbling sound. Another one of these sick looking animals appeared. It was too much.
            She is There fled. Her mind was in turmoil. She didn’t know what she had seen in the meadow, but three seeds had been planted in her mind, and she thought of them all the rest of her life.
            The first was that fire could be kept small and used like a tool.
            The second was that a person might put meat in fire, though she wasn’t aware of why.
            The third was audible speech. The sound of it was terrifying at first, like some animal crying out.
            So, according to the tale, this was how the people first met mankind. And in the times that came later, there were more meetings. Some were pleasant and many were not. But there was a sort tacit knowledge among each group that the other existed.
            Also, some of the people learned to use fire, and to speak aloud, or even sing!

            Ramona was told this old Firekeeper's tale by her mother and her grandmother too.

           

The Meaning and Deportment of Claws

 

A Symposium

 

(Today’s meeting is being brought to you by KittyComm™)

 
            “Meowees and Prrrrts, a question has arisen among some of our human friends. It’s a small thing but often comes up in conversation among them. I felt that it would be appropriate for us to discuss, and possibly deal with,” said Willie, speaking as Chair for the group.
            “What it amounts to is this: claw deportment. There it is! Most of us learn some time in kittenhood to retract our claws when being handled by humans. It’s a minor courtesy. But, occasionally there is a cat who for one reason or another does not employ this nicety. The question is why not?
            “Naturally, this leads on to another discussion. What is the meaning of claw behavior? And is that behavior necessarily innate, or is it learned? In other words, do you snag every doggone thing, and get hung up on sweaters, shirts and blankets because you are a Scaredycat™?” said Willie. “Also, what makes a Scaredycat™?”
            “The floor is open, anyone?” said Willie.
            “I’ll go,” said Buddy. “I think the important dividing line is between bloodshed, minor or not, and mere annoyance, which often works to our advantage. Unless a human is causing us harm or extreme distress, which none of our people do anyhow, we don’t want to injure their skin or wreck those things they wear, for whatever reason, which I will never understand. However, using our God-given vocal ability is fair game!”
            “Thank you, Buddy. Yes, Charley?”
            “For the most part, Willie, I try to remember not to cause physical harm. I used to hiss and yell a lot, now I don’t. I’m not sure why. But after I went to that place, I think they were aliens, honestly, I just don’t feel as much like raising hell with people. I think the aliens did something weird to me,” said Charley.
            “Sometimes I think a sturdy smack with a closed paw does as much good as a good rip with the claws anyhow. And they don’t carry on as much about that. They might even laugh. Maybe humans are all aliens,” she added.
            “That’s a different question, Charley. Let it be stricken from the record,” said Willie.
            “Ah, Mr. Baby Sir, yes?” Willie pointed to Mr. B.S.
            “I want to touch on the meaning of claw behavior. In the outside world, where we originally lived, before we tamed the big relatively hairless hominids, claws were our tools, and our defensive weapons, in addition to our teeth, being largely the same.
            “Deeply extant in our instinctive minds, this is still the case. Tools and weapons. I would like to ask, are our humans friends or fearsome enemies? I posit that if they are friends we shouldn’t use our weapons on them, even if we are very nervous!
            “Also, no matter how irrelevant their behavior seems at times, they are sentient, and we can’t treat them as if they are inert material,” and Mr. Baby Sir, resumed his seat.
            “Excellent points, Sir,” said Willie, with a nearly straight face.
            (Everyone had a polite little laugh at his expense. Mr. Baby bowed to the group, in good humor.)
            “Let’s get back on track,” said Willie. “Suzy? What say you?”
            “I must say that I feel a little bit pointed out here, but I’ll play. OK. Yes, everybody knows I have jumpy claws. I’m a jumpy cat. Why? Don’t ask me. I didn’t order being jumpy on Amazon. It came in the package that I was born with. If I could choose, I would be all lazy and contented like our esteemed Chair, ahem, Willie.
            “I’m not lazy!” said Willie.
            “Now, you get back on track, Willie,” said Suzy, grinning a little, as if giving herself a point. “This is the deal. Some cats are born domesticated. Some become domesticated, and some will probably never be truly domesticated.
            “But our wildness is useful to the group of contented kitties, I insist. Look at Toots! Our sister, Toots, is a finely tuned watcher and warrior at the gates of her home! Nobody else has the stamina and dedication she possesses. Just let some nasty divergent life form come slinking near her home, and by all that’s holy, she will raise the alarm! I salute her wildness! So what if her claws stick out a little more often than some!” said Suzy, urgently.
            “Well said, Suzy. Now speak for yourself,” said Willie.
            “I will speak for Suzy,” said Toots, suddenly standing and raising her paw.
            “Go ahead then,” said Willie.
            Suzy is a philosopher. Don’t you dare giggle, you guys. She ponders deeply the mixed facts of reality. This is, of course, rather alarming to a girl of her, or my, sensibility. Trust is such an issue in life. Don’t you see?
            “Once one has considered all possibilities, the stark matter of trust raises its wobbly head. To trust, or not to trust. Will a person who is all pets, and lovey words, suddenly become cruel?  How does a cat really know?
            “Most of you are too easily swayed by a past history of comfort and love. I say face the fact that things are not 100% predictable. Suzy has faced this, and it makes her a little excitable. I get that, believe me,” said Toots. “Also, we don’t like cameras, or people suddenly looming over us. Sure, trust, but make sure too!”
            “Wow, Toots, who knew,” said Willie.
            “Thank you, Toots dear,” said Suzy, without recognition from the Chair. Then she sat back down. She and Toots gave each other virtual high-fives.
            “Alright girls. Anybody else have anything to add,” said Willie, giving Suzy a look.
            Sammie raises her paw, waiting for the Chair to notice her.
            “Sammie! I see you there. Go ahead,” said Willie.
            “Hello everybody. I listened carefully to all of you, and I know you all spoke from your hearts. Each of you made very good points and those points give us all an opportunity to understand each other better.
            “It seems to me that our responsibility to those who are easily upset is to comfort them, so that perhaps some day they could drop their vigilance level down a bit, but not all the way down.
            “Now, I don’t mean to take anything away from Toots’ or Suzy’s special abilities. Not at all. We need each of us to do our best. And sometimes heroes are a little less sophisticated than others of us. Let it be, I say.
            “I say a gentle paw on a triggered cat’s shoulder will do more good than all the scolding in the world. Or maybe a concerted effort to Purr™ with the easily alarmed among us would be the way to go.  I’ll leave it there. I don’t mean to lecture, which only dilutes a heartfelt message, in my opinion,” said Sammie.
            “Well, Sammie,” said Willie. “I don’t think there’s any more to be said. Let’s end there so your advice stays with us as we resume our normal schedules.
            “Also, you should speak up more often!” said Willie, who was quite impressed.
            “Thank you, Willie,” said Sammie.
            Willie adjourned the meeting, and everybody went back to their regularly scheduled activities, naps, kibble, naps, and so forth.

😺😸😻🤍😹😸😹

Just A Saturday Blessing and a Bubble!

 

This bubble was

just too good not to repost.

God bless you all with every good thing!

Sincerely.

May your cows always come home

on time.

May your chickens stick around.

And

may all your holy dreams come true.

🤍

Just Buzzing Around One Day

 

Photo by Bernard Marschner.

Fairbanks, AK, 2024.

            Even for a Forest Kid, Cherry was on odd one. For one thing, her appearance. She was platinum blond all over and had pale blue eyes. Maybe she represented a further stage in evolution, if you hold with that theory. When the direct sunlight hit her she glowed and was a little hard to look upon. Flashy kid!
            It was the middle of summer. Even up in the woods it was hot! Down in town at sea level, it would  have been even hotter. The wind hadn’t visited the Home Clearing all day. Colors were rich, and drowsy, with that surreal look, like a Maxfield Parrish painting.
            Everyone but Cherry was just about asleep, even Bob and Berry, which is actually not surprising. Cats are cats, after all. Heat seekers.
            Ramona kept thinking that they all needed a good dip in the river, but she was so sleepy that she never quite got it out of her mouth. She was lying down in the cave with the green door open. Ralph has taken to his log, and was thinking about everything at once, which is sure to put anyone to sleep. Cherry was beside her mother, but not asleep.
            Twigg and the cats were snoozing under some ferns in the general area somewhere. Though Twigg was getting to be a quite big boy, he still liked to find a nice place to hang out with the Puma Bros, in seclusion.
            No one with a heart could blame Cherry for being bored.
            She remembered that she had promised Ralph and Ramona that she would keep her feet on the ground, mostly, especially if no one had eyes on her. She really did try to obey them.
            Besides being airborne sometimes, Cherry had a few other attributes. One of these was the ability to call animals to play and chat with her. She did this by singing, like her father did.
            Cherry was about the same as a human six year old, so she knew her way around her neighborhood pretty well. She usually enjoyed playing with rabbits. Rabbits liked her. They just stayed clear of Bob and Berry.
            She wandered off to rabbit town. Rabbit town was just a berm of earth really, full of burrows and bunnies. It was just before you get to the river. Kind of over there. She sang her rabbit calling song. One sleepy looking mother Cotton Tail came out and looked at her, shook her head, and went back down into the burrow. “Not today, Sweetie,” she said, as she disappeared.
            Cherry tried the Chickadees. Maybe they couldn’t hear her. None of them showed up when she sang her bird song to them.
            Well, bees like sunshine. Also, bees are flying things!
            It just happened. She called the bees, and several of those B.s we met before buzzed right over to Cherry. Bernice and the girls were tickled to see her. They danced around her head until she was quite dazzled. The flew up, they flew down. They said they were looking for flowers, fireweed especially. Would she like to help them find some, as if they didn’t already know every flower in the Great Forest and surrounding meadows and fields.
            Up went Cherry, surrounded by a nimbus of yellow and black, furry bees. She accompanied them to a patch of fireweed out by the Gifting Stump in the meadow. Then they invited her back to the hive in the little house that Twigg had given them after he had rescued them from that pickup they were living in before.
            She met the queen of all the bees, Bernadette, who was very pleased to meet Twigg’s little sister. Bernadette mentioned that Twigg, was, “Friend of all Bees.”
Several of the B.s cut off a nice piece of honeycomb and gave it to her for an afternoon snack. Cherry got rather sticky as a result.
            Cherry didn’t mind being sticky. She and Bernice and the girls went back to frolicking around the meadow, visiting more fireweed. It was late afternoon by now.
            As it happened, Maeve was coasting the air currents way up above the same meadow. She couldn’t believe what she saw down below herself. It looked like Cherry, the little blond urchin, wafting around down there with a bunch of bees.
            She dropped down to investigate this anomaly.
            It was just what it looked like. Cherry was way far from her mother, flying with bees!
            “Cherry, Sweetie,” said Maeve hovering near. “Where is  your mama?”
            “She’s sleeping in the cave,” said Cherry, happily, and stickily.
            “Cherry, what if she wakes up and can’t find you?” said Maeve.
            “Oh, no!” said the child, pretty soberly.
            “Let’s take you home now,” said Maeve. Being an old mother herself, she knew what was what and where the rubber met the road, if you will allow it, in their case.
            Cherry said goodbye to the B.s, who flew off together promising to visit again. Then Maeve and Cherry cruised along together. Maeve went slowly to accommodate Cherry who was not fast, just floaty.
            When they flew into the Home Clearing Ramona was still drowsing on the bed, Ralph was still thinking on his log, Twigg and the Bros were still snoozing under some ferns or something.
            “Evermore!” sang Maeve, as loudly as she could. Ramona woke right up and came out to see what in the world Maeve was on about.
            And there was Cherry, sitting on a log, as quiet as a mouse, as they say. Maeve looked from Ramona to Cherry, and back again a couple of times.
            Ramona saw that her child was all covered in honey and bits of stuff which had stuck to her during her day with the B.s.
            “Cherry, what in the world…?” said the Mother.
            “You better tell her,” said Maeve.
            So, Cherry confessed and was forgiven, but made to promise to keep her previous promise about airborne play when alone.
            “I’ve been thinking all day that we should all go cool down in the river,” said Ramona. “Why don’t you go out and get Ralph, Maeve, and I will whistle for Twigg, and the cats will come with him, and we’ll all go swimming!”
            Maeve, woke Ralph, saying Ramona wanted him. So he came right down the path to her.
            Ramona whistled, which woke Twigg and Bob and Berry.
            “Let’s all go get in the river, and wake up,” said Ramona. “Then, we’ll have to see about some dinner. Maybe it will be fish, right Ralph?”
            “Sure, Mona,” said Ralph, grabbing a bag out of the cave to put the trout in when he talked them into coming to him.
            Cherry got a bath, and they all got cooled off. Ralph and Twigg caught a good lot of large speckled trout. Then they all trooped home to have a nice fish dinner.
            Before bed, Ralph had a little talk with Cherry.

🌸