When Ralph Met Milly Again

 

            Like always, Millicent Price was working on her column for the Milltown paper. It was a thing called “Who Said That.” She did cover the waterfront, but also the woods, the fields and the city streets.
            Many of her readers especially enjoyed her stories about her forest friends. Some of them believed, and some of them kind of took the stories as amusing fictional accounts. Milly encouraged readers to send her questions for Ralph. For one thing, his advice was good. Nobody following Ralph’s advice regretted it. He was like a mythological forest dad in a way.
            We know that Ralph is just as real as you or me, but some of Milly’s readers were only able to go so far!
            Since she had a few questions for Ralph, Milly sent Maeve to set up a date for her to pick him up at the usual spot on highway 20 in her big green Escalade. And at the appointed time that is just what she did. He was just out of sight in the trees when she drove up and parked. When he saw her he stepped out into the light.
            “Hey, Milly!” said Ralph. She had the seat on his side pushed all the way back and lowered. It was still a squeeze, but he got in and slouched down. Millicent was always sure that he was able to shrink a little too. She was probably right.
            “Well, hello there, Ralphie!” said Millicent. She was amused by what Uncle Bob liked to call Ralph. Ralph seemed to be amused by it too.
            Maeve watched from a branch way up high and then flew back to the Home Clearing to hang around with Ramona and the kids and cats.
            “What’s on your list today?” said Ralph, sporting a big grin. “Where are we going?”
            “Maeve probably told you I have four readers' questions for you. They love hearing from you even if they don’t think you’re real. People are funny. You comfy? I made as much room as I could,” she said.
            “Yeah, I’m fine. You know I love riding in this thing. I still wanna drive it someday, Milly!” said he. As he spoke he was gauging the room behind the steering wheel appraisingly.
            “Where would you like to go?” asked Millicent. 
            “I don’t care. Can we go somewhere and get a big old breve’? I heard those are super good,” said Ralph. “Just lots of strong espresso and hot cream!”
            “We can do that. There’s a place in Darrington. Easy to get to,” said Millicent.
            She drove on and Ralph looked out of the windows in cheerful silence.
            Finally, he said, “What’s the first question?”
            “A farmer’s wife in the Skagit wants to know if you ever feel rushed. She feels like she must always hurry as much as she can. It wears her out, but she also feels like it would be lazy and irresponsible to not hurry, Ralph,” said Millicent.
            “Most of the time I don’t hurry. It’s not my usual way. I will be fast if I need to, like the other day when that water goblin grabbed Cherry. But hurry is a head trip. It never lets up. It’s like a whip. Fast is different. It’s functional. I hope the distinction makes sense. If I need to grab a fish I better be quick, but I can’t make it happen any better by hurrying.
            “I let life open up like a flower, each petal just in time at the right time. I don’t make it happen. It happens regardless,” he said. “Hurrying causes mistakes. You could trip on your own feet. Tell her that.”
            Millicent stopped beside the highway and made some notes, then she drove on.
            She drove past the lumber yards, old taverns and all the forestry equipment you have to pass to get into downtown Darrington. On the far side of the small town she drove up to the espresso stand and got into line. Two cars were ahead of them. The barista was one of those slow country baristas that take forever and waste time chatting up the customers.
            While they were waiting for Ms. Pokey to do her job, Millicent said, “There is a girl in town who says, ‘I feel fat. I don’t even know if I really am fat. But I feel fat. It poisons my whole life. What can I do? I feel like I’m going crazy, and I can’t think of anything but fat!’
            “What would you tell her?”
            “Hm. Tell her that Ralph says she isn’t fat! Well, she won’t accept that. No, tell her that her body will express what her mind believes. She has to change her thinking. She must tell herself that she will be just right. She has to make an agreement with herself to stop saying that she is fat, or by golly, she’ll end up as big as a bear! Tell her to live as if she is beautiful and she will be. I hope she can accept that,” said Ralph, though this was outside his scope of experience, he thought the principle held up well in all cases.
            Finally it was their turn at the window. The barista took their orders, 20oz breve’ for Ralph and 16oz Americano for Millicent. Before she turned to pull the shots, she took a look inside the vehicle and goggled a bit.
            “Wow,” said Ms. Pokey. “Great costume? I hope!”
            “Oh thanks,” said Millicent smoothly, not looking for excitement. “Yeah, we’re going to a thing at the museum.”  Ralph tried to look stuffed and not giggle.
            They made a big loop up into the forest past Darrington. While she was driving, Millicent said, “There is a guy, a student at the community college, who want to know if you think eating animals is ethical. I think he may be trying to be controversial, but maybe not. Maybe he can’t decide,” she said.
            Ralph sighed. Then he said, “Tell him this. Tell him to look at his own teeth. He has canines. They are not huge, but herbivores don’t have canines. He should ask himself if he is a ruminant. How many stomachs does he have. Of course, actually, we and you Hairless are cleverly made so that we can live on anything edible if we have to. It is also true that we have more in common with the wolves as far as digestion goes, than we do with rabbits, birds, or grass eating animals of any kind. Wolves have a short gut and so do we!
            “Someday, when True Dawn comes we won’t need to eat like we do now. I know that.”
            Back in Darrington, they parked by a small city playground to finish their coffees.
            “I love it! I could drink one of these every day,” said Ralph. Millicent grinned at him.
            “You said you have four questions,” said Ralph encouragingly.
            “This is a funny, rather vague one,” said Millicent.
            “Do you have a favorite saying? He wants to know something to give him perspective I guess. He’s a twelve year old Indian kid out on the Reservation in Marysville."
            Ralph swirled the last drops of his breve’ around in the bottom of the big paper cup, frowning a little. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing to this child.
            “Tell him that I have noticed, in my long life, that things on this planet and in this and all times rise up and then they fall down. Change is a constant. He must look outside of here and now for a constant constant. I hope I don’t confuse him. The Maker of all is the constant constant. Seek Him.
            “That’s the best I can think of right now,” said Ralph.
            It was getting to be late afternoon, so Millicent headed back down toward Ralph’s home. She felt thoughtful herself, working on how she was going to write this column up. He watched the scenery go by as she drove.
            “Thanks, Ralphie. You’re such a good sport. I’m sure your answers will be read and taken seriously. You probably make more sense than anyone else they’ve been quizzing.”
            “Well, Milly, I hope so.” Ralph laughed.
            When they got to the meeting spot on the highway, Maeve was there waiting. Of course she was. She was right on time!
            “Give my love to Ramona, Twigg, Cherry, Maeve and those two big cats, Ralph. You are a truly blessed soul, you know that?” said Milly as he was hopping out of her Escalade.
            “I do know that, Milly. Don’t forget that you are too! Say hi to Colin for me!”
            Millicent drove on home. She figured tomorrow would be time enough to write it up. She was hungry and wanted to talk to Colin more than anything.

🤎

Today In Cat's News

 

Tootsday Greetings!

 
            “Well, let’s see. It turns out that today is the 17^th day of June 2025, so says my lady. Just let that sink in for a couple of minutes,” said Suzy. She gazed into the camera looking a bit stunned.
            “Isn’t it amazing!” said Toots. “Who knew from calendars? Not me.”
            “So, do you have anything to report today, Toots,” said Suzy, getting down to business.
            “Yes! There was a dragon yesterday! I heard it roaring and moving around! Now, since I’m not sure if dragons can get in here, I thought it best to take cover. I don’t report my hiding places publicly, in case a dragon or that cat lady down at the river gets happens to hear my report!” said Toots.      
            “Compared to that, I have nearly nothing to report. Just two minor things. She put a small saucer down with a pat of butter in it. I thought that was for tomorrow, but OK. Maybe she will do it again tomorrow? Inscrutable! What else can I say?
            “Then, also, a sassy bird dive bombed the window outside of where I was napping. They must be able to see in here! I can see out, so I guess fair is fair,” mused Suzy.
            “Hey, did you get on PurrLine™ today, Suzy? I did! Did you hear about that giant black Manx kitten with no name? Serena popped on for minute, mentioning him. I think he’s a tomkitten myself. Just my opinion. Serena is very proud of him, but she doesn’t like to let on!
He gets a name if he makes it to three months old,” said Toots.
            “Well, for goodness sakes, why not give the boy a name!” said Suzy. “If he were my kitten, I would call him Coal!”
            “Serena’s preference I guess,” Toots pointed out.
            “Did you see that photo of the big wild kitten. Fuzzy and spotty? I’d sure like to quiz him on every little thing!” said Suzy. “What else? Hm. My brother is smart, fat, and bossy! But you knew that!”                                    Both girls cracked up on camera!  
            “Wait! No! I do have something. It happens every few days. There was a huge devouring beast in the alley! It eats garbage. I didn’t hide, but I didn’t hang around either,” said Suzy. “Maybe if they didn’t feed it, it wouldn’t keep coming around!”
            “A very good point,” said Toots. “Don’t feed monsters. Good Heavens. People are so naïve sometimes, my dear Suzy.”
            “You’d think that much would be obvious!” said Suzy.
            “Maybe that’s about enough news for today. But I can promise you this! I will be at my station tonight keeping a sharp eye on whoever goes there, out there!” asserted Toots, firmly.
            “I’m sure there will be more news tomorrow. There is always something,” said Suzy. "Right, Honey?"
            “Alright everybody, peace out! Purring is local!” said Toots.
            “Prrrrrt!” said Suzy.

🖤

She Just Appeared

 

            Did you wonder where Uncle Bob’s new Firekeeper came from?  I did.
            You remember she just came walking along one day. Uncle Bob saw her and was pleased by what he was seeing. He had been a loner all his life. He had been too hazy to seek a mate, though he had admired various girls in his past. He couldn’t settle his mind enough to try to talk with any of them. But now, being sober, he was able to ask her if she was alone and he received a goodly answer.
            Back to Suzy, not her Saslingua name, which is impossible to pronounce, but sounds vaguely like Suzy.
            When she appeared to him, she was matronly. Being alone was odd for such a mature looking lady Squatch. Why was she just traveling by his Stump House? A good question.
           
            This is how the story was told by Deirdre, the white Raven, who was staying near Uncle Bob, to help him remember things, and that sort of stuff. I believe that she discussed it with her sister, Maeve. And then the story got around, because it was just too good, and wouldn’t you just know it! A fine mystery!
            As it happened, after Suzy and Uncle Bob met, they talked a lot. You know. Just getting to know each other. Deirdre stuck around, tidying the campsite and such. Keeping things nice, while they talked. Of course she couldn’t help overhearing the conversation.                              Fortunately, Deirdre was adept in Saslingua, or we would never have heard the tale.
            Once they got through the required formal greetings and acknowledgments, Bob wanted to know how it was that such a beautiful one was walking alone through the meadowlands and forests.
            Suzy told Bob that she was, in fact, a widow. Her lord had died in his sleep not long before they met by the Stump House. He had been very elderly and was the father of ten. He was buried in a secret place among his fathers. She had been left in charge in his place. This matter did not please his eldest son, who was not her own son, but from a previous pairing.
            This eldest son, who hungered to rule in his father’s place, initiated plans for Suzy’s demise! His own wife was very much in on the plotting, whispering and gossiping with Suzy’s own children. This wife sowed a lot of discord in the kingdom. Life became unpleasant for Suzy, as she didn’t know who was loyal to the old lord’s will, or who was loyal to his son.
            “Are you a queen, Suzy,” asked Uncle Bob, rather in dismay.
            “I was, Bob. I was,” admitted Suzy.
            “But, Lady, how do you come to be here, walking by my Stump House,” said Bob.
            Fascinated, Deirdre stepped quietly closer. Suzy pretended not to notice.
            “Three of my younger children arranged a way for me to safely escape. My youngest boy was very learned. He had studied with Wise Counsel. He was able to devise a temporary window in time. Together the three, two sons and a daughter, brought me to the window, and weeping, sent me away to live. Then the window closed. Perhaps someday they will be able to seek me, somewhere in time, when it’s safe to go home. I pray that my children are well.
            “They didn’t know when I would appear, but only that it was a way. So, I am deposed, but alive, Bob,” said Suzy.
            “How can this be,” cried Bob.
            “I don’t know if I came to you from days past, or days to be,” said Suzy. “Forests look much the same in whatever time.”
            “But. Lady, how can I allow you to keep my fire and make my food? This is uncool!” said Bob. “I should be the one doing all for you!” He really didn’t know what to say or think. That’s just what came out, off the top of his thinking.
            “Lady, I don’t know how to live with a queen tending my fire!” said Bob.
            “Before ever I was a queen, dear one, I was a girl. I learned at my mother’s fire. You need not fear my ways! I can cook like any girl,” smiled Suzy.
            “I didn’t think that,” said Bob, in distress. “Oh, I don’t know what I mean! You are too fine for me! I am nothing before you,” cried Bob.
            “No, no, no! You are the answer to prayer. You are my shelter when I had none. You are perfect. I am not your queen. I am your Firekeeper, as long as you will have me,” said Suzy.
            Suzy turned her gaze to Deirdre, who was listening mesmerized. Seeing that she was noticed, Deirdre fluttered up into the air, as if to fly away.
            “Shall I go?” said Deirdre, ready to vanish.
            “Please stay,” said Suzy. “Every fire needs a Raven!”
            So, Deirdre stayed with Uncle Bob and Suzy, the deposed queen, of a kingdom somewhere in time.
            It turned out that Suzy was a fine cook. She got Bob to make some improvements around the place, and she actually had a great time being in charge of such a little kingdom. Like the human queens of old who liked to pretend not to be the queen sometimes, Suzy felt like she was attending an extended picnic. And she genuinely respected Bob.
            Uncle Bob was genuinely surprised and quite happy.

💚

In Praise of Small Friends

 

            Willie and Suzy have lived with us since December 2016. He was always, from the beginning, the most affectionate of the two kittens we adopted at that time. Suzy is a good kitty too. But she’s much wilder, like some of them are.
            People often say or think “just a cat.”
            I don’t think so.
            To me, he is a small tangible interface with all the love in the universe. I don’t know how it is when I’m not in the house, but when I’m here, his eyes are almost always on me. That’s almost a reminder if you think of it that way.
            Sure, he has some cat tricks up his furry sleeve, but it’s OK, Willie. I understand. I have a few tricks up my sleeve too. Mercy goes a long way.
            His love is sweet and constant. It’s a fine thing. He is also ridiculously cute. Funny too.
            I always tell him that he’s a very good boy and that I love him. I tell Suzy too, that she is a good girl. Must be fair to both lions!
            So, thank God for the two of them. They are truly gifts from above.

🤍

Most Blessed Saturday Greetings To You All

All the very best. I hope you have a lovely day!

 🤍

A Brief Word From Our Sponsor

 

            “So, it’s Friday, Madam,” said Ralph. “What’s on your mind today?”
            “How do you know it’s Friday, Ralph. You don’t keep track. That’s Pinkie stuff,” replied herself, Maeve.
            “Well, since you want to know all my secrets, Ranger Rick knows it’s Friday, so if I want to, I know it’s Friday too,” said Ralph.
            “Oh, I see!” said Maeve. She didn’t really, but she doesn’t like to be caught in the dark.
            “Let’s see. What’s on my mind? Naming. That’s what’s on my mind,” said she.
            “How so,” asked Ralph.
            “I have noticed, over the long years in which I have sat upon your shoulder and listened to you at great lengths, that you give names to people, animals and in fact, birds, such as myself,” said Maeve. “Why do you do that when they have perfectly serviceable names already?”
            “Ah, my dear,” said Ralph. He laughed and craned his head around to get a good look at her on his shoulder. “I do it because I am so full of love that it comes out of my mouth in the form of love names.”
            “And a love name is what, Boss,” said Maeve.
            “Oh, that’s hard to nail down, Maeve. Sometimes it amounts to something special I see in a creature. Or, it could be a joke that we have between us, maybe a secret joke! It’s like calling you Black Leg. It just means that you’re a pretty bird with black legs because you’re a raven and ravens have black legs and I love you,” explained Ralph.
            “But these names change and stack up until a creature has a bunch of them,” said Maeve.
            “Uncle Bob is a good example, Maeve. He’s not an Uncle, but he has some ineffable qualities of uncle-ness. He’s silly and affable, like an old uncle. When I call him Bob, I’m giving him a courtesy, as a fully adult brother. Uncle Bob is his main love name.
            “I call Ramona Mona, because it’s soft and near, like she is,” said Ralph.

            "Sometimes I like to call Bob and Berry Left and Right!" He giggled. "They can't keep it straight and neither can I!"
            “I suppose it’s the same reason I call you Boss,” said Maeve. “It’s your main quality, with a bit of humor attached to it. You’re not actually bossy, but you are commanding in a sense, without the quality of nitpicking bossiness.”
            “A thing I like to do with visitors to the forest here, is to observe their hearts and give them a name that is a connection between me and them. I know them then. I choose something in this person. I have a sneaky feeling that my names might even help them somehow to change in a direction that they would like to go. Say, I see a lonely skinny kid wandering around, avoiding his family and being a general pain, I might name him something to do with wisdom and courage. I never know. It just comes to mind.
            “Sad discouraged women are a favorite subject. I like to inject some hope and maybe a little glamour into their internal landscape. Why not? Women need a little of that or they fade,” said Ralph.
            “Well, you asked me what was on my mind, and I did tell you, and you did answer,” said Maeve. “Thank you. It explains a lot,” said Maeve.
            She paced back and forth on his shoulder, fussing and making raven noises for a few moments.
            Finally she stopped pacing and said, “Aw, Boss. You know I love you! How could anyone not love you? You’re a fount of wisdom and greatness on two big hairy feet!”
            Maeve then took off to fly to her nest, and Ralph just sat there smiling up into the air as she flew. He shook his head, grinning, and decided to go see what was going on back in the Home Clearing, just down the path from his big cedar log.

🤍

Why Do They Love The Forest Bros So Much

 

            Suzy was furiously trying to scrub butter off her face, using the tried and true paw licking method. It was hard because butter hangs around. She was looking a bit sleek around the muzzle. But it was time for PurrIn™, so she had to quit scrubbing and pay attention.
            “OK, let’s start,” said Charley, who had the chair this time. “I’ve called this meeting to address a question. The question rests on a known fact. We all know it. We don’t like it, but there it is. By now, we all know about Sasquatches, Boogers, whatevers. We know.
            “The question on the table is, why do humans love them so much?” asked Charley.
            “Are you sure it’s love? If so, it’s a pretty strange love, some people are scared silly of em,” said Willie.
            “That’s fair,” said Charlie. “Maybe awe is a better word. But what function do they serve among mankind? I mean, it seems like they get more attention all the time. Have you all seen YouTube lately? Nothing but BigFoot!”
            Mr. Baby Sir raised his paw, in a manner of speaking. “I’d like to suggest that there must be a big element of wish fulfillment involved. Ask yourself, if you had to work for a living, were worried about fifteen different scary human problems, felt weak and funny looking, wouldn’t you like to be ten feet tall and go stomping through the forest, doing and saying whatever you wanted? I do admit that is just a popular image of the Hairy Man. It could be pretty one faceted.”
            “So, you’re saying that mankind needs them?” said Willie.
            “Well, I think so,” said Mr. Baby. “In fact, I posit that maaaaybe, the need almost summons them forth! From where…I can’t imagine.”
            “Jeez, guys! Are they real? Or not? You sound like you’re talking about ghosts!” said Suzy with a delicate shudder.
            “Oh, no!” said Toots.
            “Order!” yelled Charley. Just because she wanted to, not because anyone was out of control.
            “How about this,” said Sammie. “Maybe the mythos of BigFoot is a place to store all their primitive inchoate fears? How about that?”
            “Huh?” said Mr. Baby. “What? I just think people want to feel big and strong and free!”
            “So, maybe it makes them feel better to tell each other stories about the mighty Hairy Man and his exploits,” said Suzy, still not wanting to think about ghosts.
            “We have to face the fact that many of the stories are true,” said Toots. “So, what does that mean?”
            “Maybe we don’t get to know,” said Sammie.
            “Maybe people require a mythic figure, psychologically?” said Suzy.
            “But, dammit, they’re real,” said Toots. “I see em out my doggone window!”
            “Let me barge in here,” said Buddy. “For whatever irrational human reason, some people just love the idea of a huge living teddy bear, who might hug them even, or protect them from Dog Man.”
            (There was a brief rumpus while Suzy and Toots were coaxed back to the PurrIn™.)
            “To continue, maybe some people actually want a boogieman. Why do people watch scary movies? They want to be scared in a safe way? Does that make sense? Maybe on some level people summon forth the scary ones with their fear, or something else,” said Buddy.
            “You still sound like you are trying to justify a story! I have seen them! You have to deal with the flesh and blood reality and the fact that people can’t stop talking about them,” said Toots.
            “Some people actually make BigFoot their profession! It’s a job to them. They make videos, sell books, sell BF swag, that sort of thing. So we mustn’t forget that aspect of how mankind handles things. They make a “Thing” of it. Funny but true,” said Buddy. “There are also scholarly types, who study the question of how to quantify the Hairy Man.”
            “Did we figure anything out,” said Charley, with furrowed brow.
            “Maybe,” said Willie. “It just gives us another reason to be sure to help them as much as we can. This means a lot of physical contact. They need the support. Any cat can see that! Purr lots! The vibration helps them heal, of course. I really think it helps to dissipate their worries. We might actually need to sort of compete with their big scary, or maybe cuddly teddy bear guy! Be more to them than that guy out in the woods! What do you cats think?”
            “Hear, hear,” said Charley. “I think we might have chased our own tails around in a circle some, but being cats, we have come to a wholesome conclusion!”
            “Let it be!” said Suzy.
            “Amen,” said Toots.
            “I can dig it,” said Mr. Baby.
            “Logical!” said Buddy.
            Then they all went forth to do as Willie had suggested to the very best of their several abilities!

😻🤎😹

The Very Hot Day

 

 

            Even deep in the forest, a hot day is a hot day. Summer had come in for real in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest.
            Our forest brethren have no trouble with rain, snow, cold, or wind. But it must be admitted that those profoundly deep and expansive hairy bodies are not proof against heat.
            It was only mid-June, not that Ralph keeps track of our calendar like that. He just knew summer when he felt it.
            He was stretched out on his cedar log, eyes closed. Both of his arms hung down on either side of the log so that just his finger tips touched the forest earth. He waggled them a bit. Just making sure.
          The sounds of the forest were dreamy, damped down. He heard the usual small hums of insects. Once in a while a bird would say something. The chirping chorus of spring was no more.
            Since he was just lying there doing nothing else, he sent his perceptions out further. Deer in their resting places panted quietly, waiting for evening. Even the rabbits were laying low.
            He heard the river, and with its rush, he heard the happy shouts of Twigg and Cherry and the calm words of Ramona. Good. It did him good just to hear them at their play.
            Ralph swung his legs over to the side facing the Clearing and sat up. His head swam a bit. It was stifling in the heated air. He shook his big head, trying to clear his sleepy mind. He looked at his feet. He often gazed upon his own feet while thinking. They were reassuringly wide, long and hairy. He waggled his toes and sighed.
            A familiar creature plopped down on his shoulder. He hadn’t even heard her coming down out of the trees.
            “Nice weather, huh Boss,” said Maeve. Even she seemed slowed, droopy, decreased somehow.
            “You noticed,” yawned Ralph.
            “Even up there where I hang out, it’s too hot, Ralph,” said she. “Look at those cats!”
            There Bob and Berry were, melted into forest duff, eyes closed, under some ferns. Their sides barely moved.
            “I see them, Birdie,” said Ralph.
            Looking outward into the trees, he almost saw a kind of mist, as if the very soil was giving up its moisture.
            “Can you do anything, Boss,” said Maeve. She tipped her head, regarding him with a bright black eye. Sometimes Maeve got ideas.
            “I could just go get into the river. So could you, Madam,” said Ralph.
            “No, I think the forest could use a break,” said Maeve. Her eyes glittered. “I don’t swim, Ralph. Come on!”
            He had to laugh. He knew darn well that Maeve was not a swimmer. But, he was working this out logically with her for backup.
            “Would you like to try something? I have an idea,” said Ralph.
            He even looked different, charged somehow. He was smiling now.
            “Sure, Boss. You know me,” whispered Maeve.
            “Let’s try calling The Storm,” said Ralph.
            “How will we do it,” asked Maeve.
            “I will sing it, and you will dance it,” said Ralph. He wasn’t sure how she would do that, but he knew she would try it.
            “Let’s do Distant Thunder first,” he said.
            It was wordless, but it sounded like thunder. It rolled and rumbled, just like thunder. Maeve flew in tight little circles above his head. She flashed her wings about, uttering raven croaks. Then both stopped to listen.
            At first it didn’t sound like anything. But after a few minutes there was a true rumble in the sky way downhill, maybe clear out over the Sound. Yes. Thunder. Bob and Berry heard it and picked up their heads. Their eyes opened expectantly.
            Ralph nodded at Maeve. “Let’s try Wind next, Birdie!”
            Next he sang a breathy song, a song of changes and moving things. Maeve flew back and forth in great sweeping dashes. She even yelled, “Evermore!” a couple of times for good measure. Then, again, they stopped to listen.
            “Together,” said Ralph. “Wind and thunder together!”
            And there it was, a wind blew through the trees shifting anything moveable, poking around, getting under things, and still the thunder rumbled. But now it was getting closer.
            Ralph winked at Maeve and the puma bros.
            It was noticeably cooler in the forest.
            “Now, let’s call Rain,” said Ralph.
            This song was different. It held laughter and sounded particulate. There was a rattle to it.
            Maeve flew up high, then she bombed down in freefall, swooping upward at the last moment before hitting the ground, over and over.
            Both Ralph and Maeve listened closely then. Soon they heard the unmistakable sound of pattering. Big juicy stormy raindrops splattered them and kept coming, wetting everything down quickly. Bob and Berry stood up to watch, tails swinging in time to each other.
            “Nice storm, Boss!” said Maeve. Overhead there was a crack of thunder quite near, and a flash of lightning.
            “That was a good idea you had,” said Ralph. “I feel great!”
            Just then, Ramona and the kids came back from the river, laughing because of the sudden storm, and wind and rain. They were already soaking wet. More water didn’t hurt a thing of course.
            Ramona started building her fire back up. Twigg and Cherry sat near, watching.
            Ralph strolled down into the Clearing with Maeve on board.
            “That was a pretty sudden change in the weather, Ralph,” said Ramona. “Did you do that?”
            “No, Mona, I didn’t do that!” said Ralph. “But I did ask for it!”
            “Mhm, much as I thought,” said Ramona.
            They sat together, watching the fire and just enjoying the storm and the wind and rain.
            “When it gets hot again, Mona, I’ll come and swim in the river with you and the kids,” said Ralph, grinning like the big kid that he was.

💦

We Bet You Forgot Tootsday Open Thread

 

            “Yes, it’s Tootsday again! Surprise! Not that Toots and I have any affection for anything sudden at all,” said Suzy. “We had a Purrcircle™ last night. Looks like we’re still in session. Everybody is here. We did the usual meowing and mewing about things. But this is the thing. It’s Skinnies.”
            “Basically, we wanted him to know we love him,” said Suzy, cutting to the chase.
            “Of course we don’t know if it’s his time to be called, or not. Nobody knows these things in front,” said Willie. “Our part is to love him. Not like me to say stuff like that is it, but I’m feline, and I do have actual feelings!”
            There were, of course, many meows and sighs of consent. There was some purring too. Everyone gathered around Skinnies in heartspace.
            “We have one other little order of business,” said Toots. There was some snickering.
            “OK, we have a question for Charley! Hey Charley, now that you’ve worn your fancy manicure/pedicure for a few days, how’s it going? Still feel fancy? Suzy really wants to know,” said Willie.
            “Well…,” said Charley. “I do feel special. I mean she must love me very much to give me such beautiful claw decorations, but I can’t scratch. It just doesn't work! I know she wouldn’t have done that on purpose!”
            “Surely not,” said Charley while the crew giggled.
            “The intentions of humans are deep and enigmatic sometimes, Charley,” said Mr. Baby, her housemate.
            “I’ll say,” said Buddy. “In spite of their intentions, they need all the help we can give them! Sometimes all you can do is sit on ‘em until they feel better!”
            “I think I would like dayglo green claw decorations,” said Suzy, with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Then I will go out, somehow, and search for the Green Dog! The mystery continues, it does not abate! I think I could live without scratching for a while!”
            “One more thing! Does anybody understand what “open thread” means,” said Willie. “It makes no sense to me. How can thread be open or closed. I’ve seen thread. Why do they talk like this? Are they trying to keep secrets from us?”
            “Like I said, their ways are unknowable. Best not to bother yourself with it. Let’s just adjourn and get some grub,” announced Mr. Baby.
            And that’s just what they did! Cats are very direct!

🤍

Page 4! From Maurice, A True Howler

 

Dear Book,

             You know what I think? I think Joe just gave me and Sneaky jobs for old time’s sake and because he had a nice gig going and could share. I don’t think he really needed either one of us, not really.

          Joe is a super nice guy, who didn’t forget his friends, you know, after he got famous.

          And he is famous, man! If you were a guy, Book, I would say just listen to the radio!

          Joe paid us too. Neither me or Sneaky have ID of course, so it all went into a couple of accounts in his name, and we have debit cards. Lol! Oh, Mama! A Howler with a debit card! Would you ever....

          We never used them. We never needed to. We just ate and slept in Joe's place.

          I have a couple of funny things to write about.

1.     When I’m here I never notice my tail. I don’t even think about having a tail. I wonder if it disappears? Funny business for a full-blood Howler!

 

2.     The other thing is Kresh. He’s a nice guy too. The weird thing that happened the other day is that he hired a set of triplets to work the counter. They all dress the same. We don’t make anyone wear a uniform, so it’s not that.

All three are named Rachel. There's Rachel, Raquel, and Rochel! It’s nuts in the shop! They are music students, like everybody who ever worked for the shop was. Pretty of course. Kresh is only human.

 

I’m going to talk to Sneaky tonight and see what she thinks. She will know what to do! She always does! I know she won’t just walk out. Maybe that’s better anyhow.

Joe doesn’t deserve that.

I guess as long as people keep buying music and ice cream, we could go anywhere there are cash machines.

But I know where I want to go! Ralph’s forest! Out there I feel so good! Maybe I’ll make up songs and play my harmonica!

I will know I have a tail out there, Book!

Just wait!

🐺

What Maurice Wrote, Page 3

 

Dear Book,
           Even a Howler can be lost.
          How can that be? A Howler’s nose is better than any hound’s. You could say the same for my ears, and my eyes? Heck.
          Now that I’m back in Joe’s downtown Bransom apartment, I feel like I might be losing myself. I know that sounds silly. How can I lose myself? I’m right here. Right? All I have to do is pat myself down, and there I am.
          I’m not really cut out to be a house boy. Sure, I can do the job. But my theory is that when I am not touching the earth I begin to die. I don’t know how humans do it. Some people say that Howlers are myths. Maybe that has something to do with it?
          Even a myth has feelings!
 
          Now that me and Sneaky and Joe are back here I wonder why I didn’t stay in the woods at the end of that long trip. If you think about it, dear book, it was kind of a sudden return to where we came from. We could have slept by that fire on the ground.
 
        If I had stayed in Ralph’s world I would miss Sneaky an awful lot!
          Joe’s cool, but I could live without him. I know he’d be fine.
 
          I think I’m going to  have to split. I won’t tell anybody. Well, maybe I’ll see if Sneaky wants to come along. That’s telling someone isn’t it?
          I’m taking this book and Joe’s pen with me!

🐺

It's A Watery Thing

 

Sauk River, Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest.

 

            It was a mystery to observers how Ralph could stay underwater so long. Some thought, among creatures not so blessed, that it might have something to do with the size of his lungs. A worthy conjecture. Others, more canny, thought that perhaps he was “breathing” somehow using the water to extract oxygen. Early on, when we ourselves first met Ralph, it was Ramona who told Millicent Price that they, the Forest People, had a kind of gill which allowed them to breath under water. Perhaps she was kidding Millicent.
            It was the following day after Ramona’s night of drumming and singing. Ralph had sent her to bed to get some sleep, and he and Twigg and Cherry, accompanied by Bob and Berry, had gone off to the river to catch some fish, and to play in the water.
            Ramona slept on.
            It was quite early in the morning. Mist hung heavy, almost like stationary rain, over the surface of the rushing water. The light was diffuse, making all appear obscure. It was too chilly for most Hairless to get into a mountain river, but Ralph had no problem with that.
            Ralph told Twigg to stay with Cherry, to not let her out of his sight. Berry and Bob, who had sworn themselves silently, in cat fashion, to be her protectors, were also on the job. Four golden eyes followed her movements, and four cat ears turned to listen to her songs as she played. Being Cherry, she was trying to convince some robins to wake up, even though it was sunless and chilly, to come and play with her. So far, there were no takers.
            Ralph waded out waist deep into the pelting snow melt. He glanced at the riverbank, saw that all was well and dove under the surface. He was gone, completely out of sight.
            If an imaginary camera could have followed him down, what a sight it would have been. There would be Ralph swimming powerfully to maintain his position, casting about for some handy fish. The water would be like green glass but full of action. Various things and even creatures would sweep past him in the glassy water.
            Ralph carried in one hand a short length of line to thread his catch on. In the mouth and out the gills went the little rope controlling his catch. It worked pretty well. While he was down there he kind of silently sang his fish calling song. The poor silly fish couldn’t resist. He only needed a dozen or so, so this wasn’t going to take all morning.
            Ah, but there was one of those unknown unknowns hunting that morning too.
            Something observed the busy father at his work. Something was hungry. Large lidless eyes glanced past the father to the riverbank. A mottled, scaly body became alert, snakelike, it approached the golden child at her play just beyond the margin of the river.
            Once more the water-goblin glanced back to ascertain Ralph’s level of awareness. Satisfied, he inched more of his slithery frame toward the child. His lidless eyes, easily seeing through the water, noticed that the cats were watching, but not on full alert. The large son was sitting on a rock, more or less watching his sister, because he knew she was fine at her play. This was the goblin’s moment.
            One wicked green claw attached to a long, thin sinewy arm covered in scales, colored like nothing in particular, snaked out and grabbed Cherry’s leg. She had time for one piercing scream of horror. He pulled her under, wrapping that same arm tightly around her waist, preparing to make an escape with the child.
             Twigg leapt up and hit the water as if someone had dropped a boulder there. He swam around searching. He came up and yelled for his father. Both Bob and Berry, also jumped into the stream, but cats aren’t that great of divers. Berry saw Ralph though and swam to him, looking frantic, and was able to get his attention. Both of them put their heads above water and Berry said, “Water monster has Cherry in the river…” Before Berry’s mouth closed Ralph was back under water, searching.         
            Looking upstream, Ralph saw his daughter in the arms of something long and scaly. While they were still visible, he caught up with the water goblin and pulled him and Cherry to the surface. He had his great hand tightly around the monster’s neck.
            Monster in hand, he said, “Cherry, climb up on my shoulders.” She did, and Ralph walked to the bank of the river, where Twigg and the cats also appeared, dripping and frantic.
            “Cherry, go to your brother and hold his hand until I am done here,” said Ralph.
            Ralph brought the thing’s face around to where he could see it, without loosening his grip on its throat. He recognized the scaly thing.
            “Beazor, I know you!” said Ralph. “You are a fool and now you will be a dead fool.”
            Yes, Ralph knew the water-goblin. This was not their first meeting, but it was fated to be their last. Before, Beazor had contented himself with trapping deer, or birds, or whatever, but not Ralph’s own child.
            Ralph dragged the long sinuous beastie out of the glassy rushing river and threw it down on the riverbank. He kept his foot on its throat and told the cats to deal with it as they saw fit. They did, and soon there wasn’t much river-goblin to throw back into the water.
            Of course, Ralph has lost his catch of trout, though somehow he still had the bit of rope, so he had to go fishing again. But he was just as successful as he had been earlier. He caught 14 moderately large, spotty trout and decided that would do for today.
            Ralph, Twigg, Cherry and Bob and Berry all trooped home in absolutely classical fairytale fashion, happy and full of a tale.
            When they got home, Ramona was awake, tending to the fire, with Maeve hanging around and making wise comments. They both seemed to sense that something had happened.
            “How was the fishing, Baby,” said Ramona.
            “A little more exciting than usual, Mona,” said Ralph, and the whole story poured out in a jumble of voices.
            Cherry climbed up into her mother’s lap. “That bad thing grabbed my foot, Mommy, but Bob and Berry ate him!” said Cherry.
            Maeve gronked and couldn’t think of a thing to say. For once she was speechless.
            Ramona cried. But you may be sure that she didn’t forget to honor the heroes with deeply felt thanks.
            Then, since it was breakfast time, Ramona fetched her knife and began preparing the 14 trout, with tears still on her cheeks, and a smile on her face.