Coming Home

“Gosh, I just love a good story,” said Bones. “A good story excites my tail and if it is really a good story, I get excited all over. My dear Mrs. Windingham, says that I am the perfect companion for a reporter, even though she hasn’t done any in years.” “Done any what?” asked Joshua “Any reportering, whatever that is,” replied Bones. “Daddy, what is reportering?” asked Sparkle. “Well,” answered Phineas, “I think it has to do with writing down interesting stories in words on paper so that many people can read and enjoy them.” “Why don’t we have any reporters among the creatures?” asked Sparkle. “We do, sort of,” answered Phineas, “but it’s a little different. All of us can read but we read different things, so we each get a different aspect of the same story. Cats can read words, spoken or written and we can read most thoughts. Dogs, like Bones, can read feelings, moods and truth. Our feathered cousins, like Henrietta, can read intent and purpose. Isn’t that so?” He nodded toward Henrietta and she agreed. “So, as you can see,” continued Phineas, “we all possess an important part of every story. We in turn tell our observations to the milk cow. Milk cows don’t forget anything and they are born knowing everything that their mothers knew before them. Milk cows take our observations and weave them into a complete story.” “Milk cows are the editors of our stories and we, so the speak, are the reporters. We really don’t need to have stories written down because we have access to a milk cow. Just try to imagine how many barns it would take to house everything that Flossie knows if it were all written down in words on paper. For people these papers are a wonderful thing, but for us it is far more efficient and sensible to have a milk cow.”