Hannah's Kitten

 

            No doubt you’ll remember the very young tabby kitten who woke Ralph from his contemplations on his log one fateful day. Ralph took the little beast to Ramona to consult with her. It was decided that they couldn’t keep him in the Home Clearing, and that Twigg had a family of rather wild cats already, and that Thaga had Harold already, who probably didn’t want to raise a baby version of himself.
            So, Ralph had decided to run the baby over to Rick to see if Rick needed a station Tomcat. Rick was just trying to figure out how to say no, without being a rat, because he had two cats at home and didn’t feel qualified to raise a baby cat at the station when Dexter blew in.
            Dexter, that sweet young guy, took one look at the kitten, and there were stars in his eyes. He wanted that kitty so badly. It was love at first mew.
            On the instant, he thought of his new wife, Hannah, the campground host, up there holding court in the small mobile home, when she wasn’t strolling about getting to know the campers and answering the same kinds of questions every day. Kitten and Hannah went together in his mind. What could be more natural or lovely, he thought?
            Having ascertained that Rick didn’t claim the kitten, Dexter took him from Rick and left to find Hannah at a gallop.
            Once outside the office, he noticed that the breeze was a bit chilly, so he put the little thing in his jacket pocket, where it settled down quietly after a few        small questioning meows. Then Dexter started moving again. He didn’t want to jiggle this child too much, so he walked.
            First, he went to the mobile. He stuck his head in the door and called for Hannah. But she wasn’t there. Not that it was really possible to hide in there, small as it was.
            He scanned the campground. Ah, there she was, talking with an elderly lady by a large fancy RV.
            He approached the two ladies with a grin on his face.
            “Dexter!” said Hannah, “Is everything alright?”
            The older lady looked from Hannah to Dexter with a question in her eyes.
            “Ma’am, this young ranger is my husband,” said Hannah, by way of introduction.
            “Oh, he looks like he has something important to tell you,” said the lady, a Mrs. Brooks.
            “Why, yes, he doesn’t often come looking for me with a big grin on his face,” said Hannah, laughing.
            “I have a surprise for you, Hannah! Close your eyes,” said Dexter.
            So, with Mrs. Brooks looking on and smiling, Hannah closed her eyes and waited.
            Dexter took the little cat out of his pocket and said, “Put out your hands, cupped!” He put the tiny guy into Hannah’s two hands.
            She inhaled sharply and opened her eyes, and then held the kitten against her bosom.
            “Oh!” said Hannah.
            “Aw!” said Mrs. Brooks.
            “Dexter, where did he come from? Is he ours?” cried Hannah, with approximately the same silly look on her face that Dexter had in the station office.
            “Ralph found him in the forest and brought him to Rick. Rick said he was free for the taking, so I did!” said Dexter. “And now he is our cat, unless you don’t want him.”
            The kitten did what kittens do, when a decision is being made in their regard. He purred and snuggled Hannah.
            “Of course, I want him, Dexter!” said Hannah. “He’ll need some things, you know. A litter box, kitten food, a bed of some kind.”
            “I’ll ask Rick if I can take off for an hour and run into town, maybe you should come too. You can pick what he needs,” said Dexter.
            “We travel with a cat. Not a baby, but I have something he might like, for before you go shopping,” said Mrs. Brooks, otherwise known as Alice.
            “Thank you, Alice,” said Hannah.
            Mrs. Brooks went back up into her nice RV, and came back with a couple of those tubes of soft food they give cats for a treat. “I bet he would like to have some of this before you get proper kitten food,” she said. “Most cats love them, and it’s soft stuff.”
            Dexter and Hannah took their baby cat home, and squeezed one of the tubes into a small saucer, and the kitten did like the soft food.
            “What shall we call him?” said Dexter.
            “Honey Bear,” said Hannah. “Maybe we’ll call him Bear for short, but Honey Bear should be his whole name.”
            “Perfect!” said Dexter. “A perfect name for the Maple Heart Camp cat!”

          Rick did allow Dexter and Hannah, with Bear, to go to Arlington to the supermarket to buy supplies for their new family member. When they came back, they had a small basket with a soft lining, a litter box and litter, and some tinned kitten food.

            And as long as Dexter and Hannah worked at the Maple Heart Camp, Bear, who grew up there, was the campground cat. He became a rather large cat, and no one ever knew how he came to be in the Great Forest that day. But he was a very fortunate kitten, all considered.

💚🐻💚

Out On The Western Edge

 Yes, it's an open thread.

The photo was taken in Oregon, November 7, 2020, by my Navigator.

We keep going down there in the winter in hopes of storms.

That coast is prime Ralph territory too.

But we tend to mind our own business, so no sightings. 

Yet!

To the best of my ability, I bless you all.

💚

The Conversation

 

            “Alright, your majesty, Ralph, old buddy,” said Rick. “Time to come clean.”
            “What?” Ralph said, innocently, still munching on a bite of cherry turnover.
            “So, yeah, the big bear gambit seems to have worked. I’m not getting anymore chat about the Honey Bear, or the big brown bear who visited the other night. However, I have sensed a certain amount of evasiveness from you myself. The farmers are long gone back to their farms. All is serene and clicking right along at Maple Heart Camp.
            “I know you know who it was, and I don’t know why it’s such a big mystery,” said Rick. “Are you shielding someone, Ralph?”
            “Um, what makes you think so?” said the king, evasively.
            “I’m a little hurt, Ralph. You can trust me. You know that, don’t you?”
            “Aw, Rick. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like that,” said Ralph.
            Rick stood up and walked over to the window, looking out toward the dumpster. He sighed. “You know, I’m supposed to keep track of things around here. And that was a thing.”
            “The Honey Bear didn’t break anything, or hurt anybody, did he?” said Ralph. He swiveled around to look at Rick’s back.
            “No, he didn’t hurt anybody or break anything, he just got some farmers talking,” said Rick.
            “Jeez, Rick, the Honey Bear was Twigg. Couldn’t you figure that out? Who else is out here fitting the description?” said Ralph. “I was covering for my kid. And he isn’t coming back to haunt the campground at night anymore.”
            “I understand covering for your kid, that much makes sense to me,” said Rick. “But, why was he here that night? Marge isn’t here anymore,” said Rick. “Marge isn’t even Marge anymore, which you know better than I do.”
            “Twigg is embarrassed,” said Ralph.  “Because he was there for a silly reason. He was trying to surprise Leely.”
            “I’m still confused. How?” Rick turned around and went back to his desk.
            “Why?” said Rick.
            “When I asked him, he told me that Leely said that when she was working here, that out beyond the walking trails, deep in the forest that there was a small patch of Trillium flowers growing that she used to love to photograph. She said she missed them. Twigg decided to dig a couple up and bring them to her to pot and keep. He feels silly about being seen hunting a flower in the middle of the night,” Ralph said, “And he’s very sorry to have alarmed anyone.”
            “Fer Pete’s sake, Ralph. A romantic gesture?”
            “Yep. He’s pretty goofy about her, you know?”
            “He’s a model for us all,” said Rick, laughing now. “In a way, it’s a good thing those guys called him some kind of a bear. Made life easier for me. Whoever heard of a Squatch being called a Honey Bear?”
            “New to me, Rick. I thought it was kind of cute.”
            Rick took their mugs out to the kitchen nook and filled them again, to wash away the momentary awkwardness between himself and his friend.
            “Did she like the flowers?” said Rick.
            “She loved them so much that she cried a little. But, I’m not sure Trillium are really suited for living in a pot. But it might work next to the Alder Tree House.
            “Did I ever tell you about the tree spirit I pulled out of a dead fir and sent over there to live in a young alder?
            “Well, anyhow, I think she might keep an eye on that pot of Trillum flowers. Stranger things have happened,” said Ralph.
            “You didn’t, but I believe you,” Rick murmured.

💚

Run Away! Run Away! Fly Away!

 

⭐

 
            “Toots, what do you think it means to wish upon a star?” said Suzy one long night, from under the bed.
            “Oh, hi. I hear you,” Toots said from her secure location in the lumber rack. “Why do you ask?”
            “It’s a song I heard playing from the desk. It said, ‘When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are. Anything you heart desires will come to you.’” Suzy sort of whispered.
            “I sort of wondered if that might work for cats.”
            “I’m sure it works for thinking cats. I can’t speak to all cats. Let me think,” said Toots. “OK. I think what I’ve heard is that if you look at a certain star and say, ‘I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight,’ or something like that, that it’s stronger than just thinking your wish. Like saying the words is stronger? I don’t know,” said Toots.
            “How is that different from Purring™” said Suzy, still hiding.
            “Maybe they come from the same place in the heart,” said Toots. “Are you still hiding from those juvenile Tomcats?”
            “Yes, but not as much. I have to come out to eat sometimes,” said Suzy.
            “Aw, what’s your heart’s desire, Honey?” said Toots very kindly.
            “I wish the boys would leave me alone, or at least show some respect. I’m not a toy, or a prey animal! It’s not dignified to have to run for cover at my age!” said Suzy.
            “So, you were thinking about wishing on a star?”
            “Well, yeah. I wondered if it might work.”
            “I have an idea!” said Toots. “How about if we pick a star and go ask in person? Would you like to?”
            “Oh! Could we do that?” said Suzy. “How can we pick a star?”
            “I’ve heard the name of one. I hear stuff all the time. There is one called Proxima Centauri. I think that means it’s the closest to us. So, if we think about it together, I believe we can visit it together,” said Toots. “Want to try right now?”
            “OK, lead the way!” mrrred Suzy.
            “OK. Let’s both say Proxima Centauri at the same time and hold that thought,” said Toots.
            In a mere twinkling of a cat’s whisker, Toots and Suzy found themselves in dark space looking down on a star just ahead of them. It was a lot like the sun, but not quite. Might have been bigger, or a slightly different color.
            “I’m a little afraid, Toots,” said Suzy.
            “Remember that the parts of us that can get hurt are not here. It’s just our minds,” said Toots. “Let’s get closer.”
            Proxima Centauri loomed closer until it looked like what it was, a huge ball of some kind of fire burning away there, suspended in space.
            “OK, now might be the time to wish upon this star,” said Toots, in an awed voice.
                        “I feel silly now,” said Suzy. “My problem with the kittens doesn’t seem very important.”
            “Well, try it anyhow,” said Toots.
            “I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight. I wish Booker and Sweetie would stop chasing me, and treat me like a nice auntie or something,” wished Suzy with her mind’s eyes squinched shut.
            Then they hung around admiring the star and looking for planets.
            After a while Suzy said, “I think the star told me something. It’s like a message from the star I think!”
            “What did it say?”
            “Wait. Be patient. They are big children. Children grow up, and time will tell. Make friends with these children,” said Suzy.
            “That’s a pretty good answer,” said Toots.
            “The funny thing is, I knew that stuff. But it’s hard to be patient when they rush me like they do.”
            “I’m not surprised. Many times, we already know the answer. It’s just a matter of realization and getting with the program,” said Toots. “So, patience, my Dear.”
            “It’s a pretty star. It was fun getting so close to our closest neighbor star, but it’s nearly morning at our homes on Earth, so let’s go back home, Toots, shall we?”
            So, together they said, “There’s no place like home!”
            On about the third repetition, Toots found herself back in the lumber rack. She was thinking about coming out of hiding.
            Suzy found herself under the bed and decided that it was time to find a little nibble out at the cat buffet in the kitchen.
            Booker and Sweetie, slept on, in the careless, zonked out manner of the teenagers they were.

🐈💙🐈

One Of Those Days 🌸Open Thread

 

We were just hanging out on a shiny beach in Oregon,
with a lot of seabirds, in Jan. 2015,

Right on the edge of the continent! 

A very thought provoking location!

A fine F'lineday to all!

💙

The Way It All Turned Out

 

 
            It was a fine pickle Ralph found himself in. He was in that rather middle-aged spot, so well-known by the Hairless.   
            Ralph was torn between his cheerful insouciant appetite for all the good things of life, but also his desire to appear as he always had, sleek, lithe, and breathtakingly powerful. Poor Ralph.
            And yet, somehow, an idea kept tickling his mind. It was unformed but he was working on it. The equation seemed flawed somehow. It seemed like Hairless mythological consensus of some kind. It didn’t add up for Ralph.
            “I can talk their talk, but they can’t walk my walk,” he said to himself. He hummed a kind of emphatic little tune, then sang the words with it. He liked it.
            The planet rolled over a couple of times. Ralph ate at home. Ramona didn’t bake biscuits, Thaga, being put in the know, did not send over any of those 8 inch in diameter cinnamon rolls.  Nobody said the words Honey Bear in his presence, even if they thought of it and giggled.
            Ramona ran out of coffee. Ralph really wanted a cup.
            He decided that this called for a visit with Rick over at the station. That was really just about all, he didn’t have any serious business to discuss with Rick, though he thought it might be fun to hear the gossip in the camp about the huge brown bear that had made such a ruckus in the campground a few days before.
            “Mona, my dear, I believe I shall go see Rick and have some coffee while I am there,” he said.
            “Oh, nice,” said faithful Ramona. “Why don’t you take a little run through the forest first?”
            “What an excellent idea,” Ralph said. “That’s just what I will do, then loop around to the station.”
            Now, Ralph doesn’t thump the ground like some of those guys you hear about. He has special hips, and special knee joints, and his feet are made to land softly. So, when he took off, first up to the big meadow, running past his log he made a splendid sight. His kingliness in full display he slipped up the path. He took a loop near the Alder Tree House, noting that they were indoors, so he didn’t stop.
            He ran through the woods to the smaller, wilder meadow, pacing himself, until he got to Bob’s Stump House, where he found Bob and Maurice working on a song about the mythical Honey Bear.
            “Why are you running, Ralphie,” said Uncle Bob.
            “I’m on my way to see Ranger Rick,” said Ralph.
            “Do you want to hear our new song?” asked Bob.
            “Sure, I can stop for a minute. What’s it about?” said Ralph.
            “It’s the Honey Bear Polka!” said Maurice, starting right into playing it.
            “Hey, I know what,” said Ralph, “listen.”
            So, while Maurice played the tune to the Honey Bear Polka Ralph sang,
                        “I can talk their talk,”
                        “But they can’t walk my walk!”
            “That’s true, Ralphie,” sang Uncle Bob, looking happy as heck.
                        “Who can walk my walk?” sang Ralph, while Maurice went for it!
                        “I can walk my walk!
                        “So, watch me walk!”
                        “I know things they don’t!”
            “That was fun, Ralphie,” said Uncle Bob.
            “Yes, it sure was! Now I gotta keep going!” said Ralph and he headed out for the ranger station at a full smooth lope.
            Of course, he had to come up through the forest, and check that the coast was clear before popping out from behind the station dumpster. It looked wide open, so he slipped right over to the door, knocked, and stuck his head in.
            “You there, Rick,” Ralph sang to the tune of the Honey Bear Polka.
            “I’m right here, Ralph. Why are you singing?” said Rick, seated at his desk.
            “Oh, Maurice and Uncle Bob started it. It’s hard to stop it, once started.”
            “Fair enough,” said Rick. “Want coffee?”
            “Yessir, I do. Hey, anymore talk about the big bear in the camp?” said Ralph.
            “Not much. Campers come and go. This new bunch doesn’t know what happened. And the bear hasn’t been back. Hannah was a little mad when she found out, but relieved that it was just you playing bear.”
            “Yeah, she probably didn’t like being scared,” said Ralph.
            “I have cherry turnovers today!” Rick said suggestively
            “What a lovely idea, I’ve never had a cherry turnover,” said Ralph, grabbing a seat, while Rick brought him some coffee in one hand, and carried the Tupperware box of turnovers out in his other hand.
            When Rick got to where he could see all of Ralph, he said, “What the heck happened, Ralph? Last time I saw you, you had a belly like a pre-hibernation grizzly bear!”
            “Ah, Rick,” Ralph said, smiling like the Buddha, “It’s good to be king of the Forest Giants!”
            “I have to believe what I see, Ralph, but…” said Rick, just standing there.
            “What can I say?” said Ralph, taking a little sip of Rick’s terrible Safeway coffee.

👑

Nottabear, But Close!

 

🐻

 
            You know how it is. Suddenly, you just notice something you hadn’t been noticing. Then suddenly, there it is. In this case, it was Ralph’s tummy, and Ramona was doing the noticing.
            One early morning, just as she was waking, she noticed a big round thing right behind her under the quilt.
            “Bear!” thought Ramona, as she leapt out of bed. But when she looked back to the bed there was only Ralph. Rather a lot of Ralph. In fact, he had gotten rather rotund in his middle.
            As she stood there studying his tummy in the half light of their home cave, she wondered how it had happened. Not much had changed. Well, maybe.
            He still went out hunting, or fishing every day. He gathered firewood every day. Ramona just didn’t see how he could grow a bear’s tummy when he was so hardworking.
            She thought about the food she cooked. It was mostly fish, or soup, or eggs, or a roast of some kind. She thought maybe it was the cooking that did it! Oh, dear! It had been a long many years since they had eaten uncooked food like their ancestors.
            Ramona shuddered delicately, and went outside to work on her fire.
            When Ralph woke and yawning, wandered out to sit by the fire. It occurred to Ramona, looking at him, that an observer might actually mistake her Ralph for a bear. Embarrassing.
            “Baby,” she said, “why do so many Hairless men have such big bellies?”
            “Um. Beer? I don’t know for sure. What are you saying, Mona?” he said looking down at his own mid-section.
            “Well, I hope learning to cook didn’t make you look like one of them, Baby,” said Ramona. “I don’t really feel like eating raw fish and meat and stuff, do you?”
            “I don’t either, really. Though we could. Do you think it would help?” asked Ralph.
            “Can you think of anything else that makes humans look like bears?” said Ramona, not tipping her hand. She’s like that.
            “Maybe human food makes human bellies, Mona. I just love that junk, but I do kind of look like a bear. Maybe a Honey Bear!” he said, giggling. “Actually, I have an idea. Maybe when I go see Rick, I should just have the coffee! Surely, coffee never made anyone look like a bear, did it, Mona?”
            “I don’t see how it could,” she said.
            “Well, I know it wasn’t your good food. It was something else, and I think I know what. I’ll stick to coffee when I visit Rick, and lay off snitching Doritos, sad as that is!” he said.
            “I hate it when I run and all this jumps up and down. It’s not right. I’m supposed to glide!”
            “I know, Baby,” said Ramona. “I’ll stop making biscuits, and you don’t eat all Rick’s goodies and in no time, you will be just like you were before!”
            So, for breakfast they had coffee and some eggs and a bit of leftover venison. Not a carbohydrate in the bunch!

🍁🍵🍁