He Found Another Abandoned Tent

 

            Ralph went out one morning early that hot summer to sweet talk another batch of trout. He carried a burlap bag, and he was already humming his fishing song even before he got over to the river. He passed Rabbit Town with its many burrows on his way.
            “Good morning, Bunnies,” said Ralph. “You’re safe from me. I don’t hunt Cherry’s friends. Going for fish today!”
            The very Cautious™ Bunnies heaved a sigh of relief and went back to bunny pursuits.
            When Ralph got to the riverbank, he saw that many fish were already lined up and waiting for him. But, when he looked across the river there was something unfamiliar on the opposite bank. A tent. It was a sort of shocking electric blue color. It really stood out.
            He decided to wade over and take a look. It looked deserted.
            “I’ll be back!” he told the fish, and stepped into the stream. You or I couldn’t wade this stream because we’re too short. But Ralph could, though in the middle only his head was above the surface. That makes the very deepest channel of the Silver River about 8 feet deep.
            When he got to the other side, dripping wet, the campsite looked even more deserted. No one was there. The blue tent was unzipped. There was a spot where there had been a fire, but it looked like it had been days since there was a fire there. There was a backpack inside the tent. Ralph thought this didn’t look good. There was no sign of struggle exactly, but it looked as if someone had left in a heck of a hurry. A skillet containing cold congealed eggs lay near the cold fire, along with two cups of cold coffee, and a couple of plates and forks.
            “Maybe Rick should know about this,” Ralph told himself. “Looks like somebody ran off. They might need help.”
            He waded back to the other side, taking time to submerge the burlap bag when he got there, to allow a crowd of enthusiastic trout to push their way in.
            “That’s all today!” he told the others.
            He took the dripping bag of wriggling fish to Ramona. Cherry was going to clean this bunch under the watchful eye of Ramona. It was one of those skills a Firekeeper needed to be good at.
            “I’m going to go talk to Rick, Mona. Somebody abandoned their tent and all their stuff across the river. It might be something he needs to do something about,” Ralph told her.
            “Might be, Baby! Hurry back!” said Ramona.
            “You got it!” he said, though that was purely speculative.
            It was only a quick stroll to the Ranger Station. Emerging from the forest behind the station dumpster, Ralph noted with a grunt that Rick’s truck was parked right where it should be. The hood was cold. So, he’d been there for a while. Ralph gave the hood a friendly whack, and headed for the station office door.
            As per usual, Ralph knocked on the door and then opened it. And there was Rick, as always, with his laptop open.
            Ralph called out in a voice like boulders tumbling down a mountain side, “You in here Rick? Oh, there you are! What cha doin’ there? Anything good?”
            Before Rick could open his mouth, Ralph slipped behind the desk to look at the screen.  What he saw there was a woman, Rick’s wife he presumed, looking at the screen in total shock with her mouth open and no sound coming out.
            Rick slapped the computer shut and pointed to the other side of the desk. Ralph can take a hint, so he moved around to his side of the desk and sat down. He started to open his mouth to make inquiries, naturally, but Rick made a zipping motion across his own mouth. So Ralph shut his and waited.
            Rick put his screen back up.
            “Rick!” a woman’s voice said, “What the hell was that?”
            “What was what?” said Rick, stalling for time to think of a good one.
            “That big freaking hairy SOB I saw behind you, Rick!” the woman continued, “with a voice like a tornado! Nobody talks like that!”
            Ralph, shocked, stuck his lower lip out, but didn’t say anything.
            “Oh, that must have been Bill in his costume, Honey! They’re having a Bigfoot festival in Stanwood. He was just showing me his costume,” countered Rick, hopefully.
            “Who the hell is Bill? You don’t know anybody named Bill,” she said.
            “Not a close friend, Honey. Just somebody who camps here a lot. I’ll talk to you later, Sweety! Bye!” said Rick, and he closed the computer.
            “Smooth move, Ralph!” said Rick. “You scared my wife. Now I have to play dumb until she forgets, like she’ll ever forget the sight of you over my shoulder!”
            “Sorry,” said Ralph. “Maybe you should introduce me and your wife?”
            “She’s a talker, Ralph. She knows everyone in the county, and she’s a talker, bless her heart,” said Rick, looking a little queasy.
            “What’s up, anyhow?” said Rick.
            So, Ralph started with the reason he was at the river, told him about the trout waiting to get into his burlap bag, and about seeing the campsite across the river, and what he found when he waded over there.
            “I thought whoever it was might be lost or need help or something, so I figured I better report the incident to you,” said Ralph, finally. Then, “You know it won’t work to have me find them. Word gets around.”
            “Ralph, the other side of the river is not in the park. I don’t have the budget or the jurisdiction for a search over there. But, I tell you what. I’ll call the sheriff’s office and hand it over to them. They will be interested for sure,” said Rick. “Thank you, it was kind of you to let me know.”
            “I wonder why I keep finding empty tents in the forest?” said Ralph.
            “Oh, something spooks ‘em, and they run like rabbits,” said Rick. “Maybe they saw you slinking around!”
            Ralph laughed. “Hope not! Next thing, they might be ‘investigators’!”
            “Saints preserve us, Ralph! Not that. I can only juggle so many sightings around here and keep my nose clean!” said Rick, who was now laughing too.
            “Give Mrs. Rick my love, I gotta go home and tell Ramona the tale,” said Ralph.
            “Oh, go home, give my love to Ramona. Skedaddle before Hannah sees you too!”
            So, that’s just what he did, after checking to make sure the coast was clear.
            Rick could hear Ralph whistling happily as he vanished back into his domain.

⛺

Let's Blow This Hamburger Stand!

         

              “Hey, Toots,” said Suzie one day, gazing into the dark glass of the back door.
            “Yeah, Suzie, what’s up?” said Toots from her perch at the window.
            “You wanna blow this hamburger stand?” mrrred Suzie.
            “Now what are you talking about?” said mystified Toots, with a little wrinkle on her forehead.
            “I heard that somewhere. I think it means do you really want to get out of here, like go somewhere else, like?” said Suzie.
            “What’s gotten into you? You sound weird,” said Toots.
            “I’m tired of this planet. There are too many dogs here, and there are fleas!” huffed Suzie. “How about some place where there has never been a flea since the worlds began?”
            “Right now?” said Toots.
            “The Whole Shiny Mewniverse awaits!” exulted Suzie. Her little pointy-eared head was full of visions of planets, and stars, the sun, the moon, and vast reaches too.
            “There’s been a dog hanging around. I mean inside the house. Maybe if I go away, when I come back, he will be gone!” said Suzie. “Like real gone!” Unfortunately, she was in kind of a Beat groove.
            Toots was beginning to think that getting Suzie off planet for a while might be a good idea. “Like, to divert her!” She thought to herself.  Appalled, Toots began to realize that the Beat thing might be contagious.
            “Maybe we ought to, like, stay in our own star system,” said Toots. She shivered. This was a hard thing to not do.
            “I can dig it,” said Suzie, grinning to herself. “Let’s go where no dog has gone before!”
            “Amen, Sister,” said Toots, purring rambunctiously.
            In the twinkling of a kitten’s eye, the two little points of vision found themselves high above the surface of Earth, higher than the communication satellites ever venture. Earth looked so beautiful from up there, with a blue hazy light wrapping the whole surface.
            “I can’t see any dogs or fleas from up here,” said Toots. “It looks wonderful.”
            “Honestly, Toots, that worries me a little bit about the other planets. I mean, if we can’t see them from here on Earth, what does that tell you about the other planets?” said Suzie.
            “Nothing. It tells us nothing. We just have to go look,” said Toots.
            “Well, pick one, man, I mean Toots,” said Suzie.
            “I like that big one that looks like a cat sleeping!” said Toots.
            “Wild! Let’s go!” agreed Suzie. “What’s that cat’s name?”
            “Something like Nehhhkktune I think. I’m pretty sure that’s what my Gentleman called it!” said Toots.
            Before either could speak another word, they hovered over this huge, dim gassy looking orb. Winds were whipping by at a terrifying rate of speed.
            “Well, it did look furry from Earth,” said Toots. “But now it just looks like a big round windy ball!”
            “Let’s go down and look for land. We’re not really here, so the wind can’t get us!” said Suzie, though truthfully she was beginning to feel very Cautious™.
            “I guess we better look,” said Toots.
            Down through the gassy haze and the terrific winds they descended, to get a better look. As they dropped down, staying carefully together, it got darker and darker. They began to perceive the massive weight of this gassy ball.
            “I don’t think anything could live here, Suzie, not even fleas,” said Toots.
            “And who would they bite?” said Suzie. “Not even dogs could live here. What would they eat? And where would they run around and bark? There is no there here, Toots!”
            “I’m not tired of Earth anymore, Toots,” said Suzie. “I want to go home!”
            Coming back up through the dark haze, until they were free of all that fierce wind and dim light, and at last into open space, the girls could see Earth shining in the far distance. It was as blue as a perfect jewel.
            “I think we did find a place where no dog or flea has ever lived, but what a bummer, man,” said Toots.
            “Why are you talking funny?” said Suzie.
            “You started it!” said Toots. “Oh, let’s just go home and Purrmitate™. There must be a lesson somewhere in this.”
            And just like that, Toots was back at her window, looking around for Sammie, and very happy to be home.
            Just as instantly, Suzie found herself at her usual spot on the back porch. She could hear the Scouts rattling around nearby. She was pleased to observe that the dog was indeed gone.
            “Real gone!” she thought to herself, and giggled, cat style.

 🌎

Why Is Ramona So Unflappably Serene?

 

            I think that if you asked her, she would say that her mother told her, and she has told Cherry, that counting your blessings really works. Just that process has a way of diminishing the other stuff. It’s practically mystical.
            If I asked her, she would probably tell me that her greatest blessing is Ralph. Of course. She knows as well as she knows that the sky is up, that she can rest in his constant good humor, and absolute good intentions. She orbits him like a planet does the sun, and that sun is always facing her with a smile.
            Wisdom is its own reward. She is wise, in that she understands her position in Creation. She doesn’t wish she was someone else. She doesn’t want more than she has. She does her best with what life has given her.
            This of course, comes back to a grateful heart. A grateful heart is so massively constructive that it’s hard to adequately express it.
            Ah, but like all of us, she’s human. She’s not some phony plaster saint.
            You remember the time she took a rock to the drone with a camera on it? The girl  has some spunk!
            Remember the time she wanted Thaga to make her a dress? She had to let that go, and it was hard for her.
            That’s all, just a thought for Catfurday. I wanted to take a minute to appreciate Ramona.
            Ralph didn’t put me up to this, but he agrees with every word! In fact, he told me so.

💌

I Know Your Name

 

            It was a high point in the breathless arc of a summer day in the Great Forest. Noon.
            Cherry had learned a thing or two from her friends, the Puma Bros. One of these things was to find a leafy spot underneath the local underbrush, where it is was cooler than the surrounding forest, and to rest there, in seclusion. Many times they had all three shared such a retreat. The cats crouched as cats do, golden eyes closed, panting.
            Cherry sat alone this time, on the forest floor, legs crossed in what they used to call Indian Style. On this particular summer day, she held court among the small creatures of the forest. She had the gift of speaking to the animals. Sometimes a few mice would come to  her with a tiny dispute, and she would help then sort it out for she had their confidence. Even insects would fly near her, and they would speak together about their lives, hers and theirs. She had the heartfelt respect of the dragon flies, other flies, mosquitoes even, and if truth be told, even fleas respected her. No flea had the temerity to bite Cherry!
            Many times small brown rabbits and their children stopped by, mostly to pay their respects. Rabbits are very adept at living their own lives successfully.
            So, once again, it was a typical day hidden away in the leafy undergrowth where enough sunlight reaches the ground to encourage bushy growth. A fisher cat had come and gone, staying just long enough to announce the progress of her kits.
            Cherry could hear an unfamiliar sound. A sort of low sad squeaking. She hadn’t heard anything like that before. It came closer as the moments went on and she listened silently. She heard light footsteps, and a sort of dragging sound maybe, like there were two creatures coming, but one of them wasn’t walking correctly.
            She waited, hands on knees, icy blue eyes looking in the direction of the strange whimpering cries and the footsteps.
            At last, a yellowish doglike animal appeared. He was not alone. He was accompanied by a much smaller version of himself. The small one didn’t really seem to walk along, he had to be nudged and dragged too, and his eyes were closed. The whimpering sound came from the small one.
            “Cherry!” said the father, for such he was. “I know your name!”
            “I know your name too, Jumpstart,” said Cherry in return greeting.
            “Have you brought me one of your children, Jumpstart?” she asked, formally.
            “My son, Cherry,” answered Jumpstart.
            “Tell me his name?” said she.
            “His mother called him Darkness, because he neither sees, nor speaks, or walks either, and yet as you see, he lives, but in darkness,” said Jumpstart, with his son huddled between his forelegs.
            “Yes. I think I will give him a new name. Are you willing to let me name him,” said Cherry. “That would be a good start.”
            “I know you, and yes, I trust you. Name my son,” said Jumpstart with a Coyote tear on his cheek.
            Cherry looked deeply into the young thing’s heart. She waited and listened for an answer. At last a name came to her.
            “His name shall be Sky, Jumpstart. Do you agree?” said Cherry.
            “I agree, yes,” said Jumpstart, and from that moment his son became Sky.
            “Sky” said Cherry, “open your eyes.”
            For the first time in his life, Sky opened his small brown eyes.
            “What do you see?” said Cherry.
            “I see my father. And I see you, Lady,” said the child, who had left off whimpering, in order to speak. “I see the forest all around me!”
            “Will you walk to me?” Cherry asked him, and he willingly trotted right over to where she sat. Then he sat as all canids do, looking all around himself, panting with his little pink tongue lolling as all canid tongues do.
            “Sky, will you do as your father does? Will you obey your mother? Will you do all things as a Coyote should from today?” Cherry asked Sky, formally.
            “I will do all as my father does,” Sky said. “I will obey my mother, yes. I will do all things as a Coyote should!”
            “I know you will,” said Cherry. She couldn’t help smiling.
            “Take him to his Mama, Jumpstart,” said Cherry. “I was very pleased to meet him!”
            “Yes, Lady Cherry, I will,” said Jumpstart. And with that, Jumpstart and Sky trotted away home.
            As Cherry rested her eyes for a little while, a small wind came from playing over the Silver River, to toss the leaves surrounding her. He stayed as long as she rested, then went on his way.
            When her eyes opened again, she thought of her mother, Ramona, and went to find her. Like every other day, she lived under Ramona’s teaching, desiring to be like her in every way.
            When she found her mother, Ramona said, “I think we should all go play in the river. Today is extra warm!”
            Ralph, who had been kind of snoozing in the heat agreed, so they all went over to the river to play until the sun had nearly set. While they were there, he gathered some fish, for an easy, quick dinner.

🐟

Wishing You A Grand June Purrsday

 

Somewhere in Montana, June 30, 2016.

My girl took the shot, I am sure, as my hands were on the wheel.

Such glory!

And I know, from personal experience, that most of the country

is open and wild!

I find that comforting.

A lovely day to you!

💮

The Conversation, A Sketch of A Dream

 

 

            Marcus sat alone at table. The Mediterranean morning light flooded the large quiet room. There was a second chair at the table, empty now. Until a moment before his wife, Julia, had been seated there. This was not a breakfast seating; it had been a difficult conversation.
            He sighed.
            Julia had gone to sit in the garden, out of the direct sunlight, with some of her women. He could hear women’s voices like birdcalls through the open window.
            He was no longer young. His hair was graying, and he bore the scars of battle. If authority wore a face, it might have looked much like Marcus.
            Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and thought about the slave. He had purchased her when she was a middling child. She came with some outlandish foreign name. Marcus called her Melum, a small sweet thing.
            Melum had grown up under his roof, serving Julia and himself in the house. If one of them wanted something from the kitchen, she ran for it. Her work was the many small things required in a great house, the little jobs of running and fetching. She waited at their table evenings, and brought things to the bedroom if one of them woke and was thirsty, or the light had gone out. Melum was always about like a pet bird. She was beautiful, adding to the dignity of the house she served.
            Marcus was fond of Melum. Now she had a child. He had watched her as her body changed and said nothing. Julia watched her too, and said nothing. Nothing needed to be said.
            He had no other children. But he hadn’t made his mind up about the fate of this one. A boy. A son. It rang in his mind like thunder.
            He had sent one of the house boys to her room. He wanted to see the infant before he decided whether to acknowledge his paternity, or to merely raise the child as a slave among many slaves.
            Silently, on small bare feet, carrying her son, Melum entered the brightly lit room, such a rich and beautiful room, with colorful frescoes on the walls, and mosaics exhibiting exotic marine motifs under her little feet. Her hair was a light wheaten color, her eyes were blue, and she wore the simple gown of a female slave. She wore no adornments.
            She walked to her usual spot beside the table and stood waiting, silently.
            “No. Sit down, Melum,” he said.
            Carefully she lowered herself into Julia’s chair.
            “Is he well? Is he strong?” said Marcus. “Are you well?”
            “He is well, as am I,” said Melum in a voice like the embodiment of fragrance.
            “If I say he is mine, he will become a great man in my name,” said Marcus.
            “Yes,” and she trembled.
            “Bring him to me,” he said finally.
            Carefully, she rose and walked around to the other side of the table. Marcus held out his hands to receive the newborn boy.
            Melum passed her son over. Marcus took him in his hands, as a man does who is not accustomed to infants. His left hand was under the child’s head, and his right hand supported the body.
            “Does he wake and cry out much?” he asked her.
            “Not much, Sir, only when he is hungry,” she said.
            “Well, he is a manchild,” said Marcus.
            Then the child opened his eyes and focused on his father’s eyes. A long moment passed between them. Marcus began thinking of a name for this child.
            “Melum, take my son, go and raise him well! Be at peace,” said Marcus.
            She left him then, on lighter steps, carrying the newborn son of the house back to her own room.
            Marcus had a lot of things to arrange, and he needed his lawyer for all of that.

☀️

The Voice From Inside The Fridge

 

For display purposes only!

            “Why?” I said. He was in there again. Only takes a second’s lapse in vigilance. It was Sweetie, of course. Though, I have seen Booker follow him in before.
            “What’s the compelling attraction, Mr. Cat?” says I.
            The voice answers, “Prrrrrr..”
            “Not talking? Nobody, not even a young cat does things for no reason.” I urged.
            “You can’t see me now!” he said, with satisfaction. “Nothing will ever make me come out! I rule here, on the steaks.”
            “That’s called 'hubris,' Youngster,” says I. 
            “It will take more than name calling to get me to come out, Ma,” the voice continued.
            “Exaggerated pride, or self-confidence. IOW arrogance! How does that sound? Do you want to be like that?” I said, pedantically.
            “All hidey-holes are mine, by right of conquest,” said the voice.
            “You’re sitting on my steaks,” I said, “Good thing they’re shrink-wrapped, eh?”
            “Right of conquest!” he chortled.
            “Baloney!” I yelped.
            “Do you have some?” he asked, looking up through the shelves. There was a lot of purring and fidgeting around. (Shrink-wrap is really a good thing, you know?)
            “I hear your brother calling you!” I said.
            “Nuh-uh!” and he crept further back. “I’m making room for him.”
            What could I do, but get out the big guns, the sound no cat can withstand? Yes. The Temptations container. I rattled it.
            He popped right out. Booker came running. Mr. Baby swarmed aboard too. Soon we were having a great old time with cat treats. What do they put in that stuff, that is so desirable? It looks pretty much like cat kibble. (I need to look up the etymology of ‘kibble.’) Suzie doesn’t like Temptations. She says they make her rhumatize kick up. Doubtful.
            They all wish all the other cats a Merry Tootsday, most of all Toots, herself!

🐈‍⬛

kibble(n.)

"ground-up meat used as dog food, etc.," 1957, apparently from the verb meaning "to bruise or grind coarsely," which is attested from 1790, first in milling; a word of unknown origin. The same or an identical word was used in the coal trade in the late 19c. and in mining from the 1670s for "bucket used to haul up ore or waste."