Bruce Moose 6!

Bruce Moose Six!

Bruce stared at the ground. And on the ground there was a hole, and it was round. Bruce didn’t know how far it went down, but he was curious, and he was very serious about examining that hole in the ground that was very round. “Look Betty! I found a hole in the ground, what do you think is down there?!” he asked excitedly.

“I think that hole probably belongs to a mole, but on the other hand, I don’t actually know. Holes around here just sort of appear. And that’s the whole truth.” Betty replied.

“Good one, Betty. Also, a mole you say?!” Bruce asked.

“Yes Bruce, a mole. A little, furry, burrowing, hole making mole. But that’s quite a big hole for a little mole. Maybe it wasn’t his, or hers to begin with. Maybe he or she moved in after it was already dug. And I’ll bet that hole leads to a tunnel or two, moles are good at digging, because that’s what they do.”

Bruce looked disappointed. His face went all droopy like a balloon after the air was let out. “Oh, okay...”

“Why do you look so sad and droopy and deflated?” Betty asked.

“Well, I was kind of hoping it was a hole, containing a troll...and maybe the troll could have a mole—on its cheek. I thought that would be a better find, not to be unkind.”

“I see. Have you been reading fairy tale story books this week?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a guess, I guess. If you want, we could pretend there’s a troll down there. I know how you like to use your imagination.”

“Okay, that sounds fun. What do you think the troll in the hole looks like, Betty?”

“Well, it’s probably a he because trolls are rarely a she, to me anyway. And he probably looks a bit scary and a whole bunch hairy, because that’s ordinarily how a troll looks—to me. I picture trolls with chubby, squishy faces, and crooked pointy teeth, who wear over-sized shoes without any laces. And they walk like a penguin but faster. And the little hole, or little bridge they live in or under, is probably decorated in the style of complete disaster! And they sound like a croaking toad, and speak in riddles and codes. That’s how I picture a troll. What about you, Bruce?”

“Same...” Bruce had moved on from the hole in the ground, that was still very round. He was now focused on the branch of an apple tree. It had an autumn apple hanging from it.

“Is that apple interesting, Bruce?”

“It sure is. I like autumn apples; they have a whole different taste to them from the summer apples. And, they have a different texture. I’m kind of an apple expert, you know.”

“I agree. They have a certain extra sweetness and tasty tartness in the fall.” Betty said.

Bruce was just about to bite into the giant apple that he had been admiring when Mootilda and Charles arrived on scene. Crunch! went the sound as his teeth bit down on that sweet, juicy, and tart apple, spraying everything with bits and chunks within a three-foot radius. Betty flapped, Mootilda mooed, and Charles Horse squinted, whinnied, shook, and pretty loudly booed. “Sorry Charles.” Bruce said.

“Well, have you heard the latest?” Mootilda asked.

“We haven’t. We’ve been looking at a hole in the ground and admiring autumn apples we’ve found.” Betty answered.

“It involves our goat friend...” Charles said.

“Oh boy, those are words that really make you pause.” Bruce responded.

“He wants to lead us in an exercise class.” Mootilda replied.

Charles slowly shook his head and said, “He thinks we’ve all gotten a little too big for our britches, if you know what I mean. Anyway, that’s how he put it.”

Betty replied, “Oh dear. Don’t get me wrong, I think exercise is good for us, but I’m not sure Stanley is the right creature to lead us in any activity or routine of any kind.”

“And I’d like to go on record as saying, winter is coming. We all grow a little bigger for the season. It’s mostly fur and hair growth…and some bulk. They’re called fat reserves for a reason. It’s the way nature intended.” Mootilda stated emphatically.

“I refuse to do jumping jacks or push-ups!” Charles complained loudly, giving the ground a good stomp with his front leg. He continued, “Not that I could ever do jumping jacks or push-ups! My jumping days are over, and I don’t even know what a jack is, but I’m not doing it!”

“Well, maybe we could do some easier activities, like walking or swimming—even stretching, that’s always helpful.” Betty said.

Mootilda responded, “We already walk, and I’m not really a swimmer…I guess I could try stretching, I don’t know. I’m not making any decisions or commitments just yet.”

“I just mean that we could do more walking and more swimming, and do those things more frequently. You know, a routine that keeps us fit and feeling good.” Betty replied.

Just as Charles was about to give more thoughts, the group noticed Stanley, and some of the others heading their way.

“Okay everyone, let’s try to be positive and listen to what he has to say. Maybe he’ll be reasonable. We can always come up with a compromise, right?” Betty said, trying her best to be convincing.

“You have met Stanley, right?” Charles asked.

“I hear what you’re saying. Let’s just give him a chance.” Betty responded.

Stanley bounced up to the group with his followers a few steps behind him. Maurice Mule, Dolly Llama, Poke Pig, Ramona Hen (and Willie.) All said hi, and hello. The two swans named Juan gave a quick head nod, (gracefully of course.) Frederick Alpaca, Quack Turkey, June Loon, and Stephen Stuffing shrugged, saying pretty much nothing. The ducks were off in the distance not giving any responses. The orange cat whose name nobody knew, sat silently watching the group as if he had nothing better to do. And last, but not least, Cindy Sue Butternut Squash-Pettigrew smiled politely, then told everyone that she had lost her left shoe. She in fact, hadn’t lost her shoe, she was wearing it. Wait! A frail quail wears shoes? Well, that’s breaking news! Whoever heard of such a thing?!

“Well, I’m sure you’ve already heard the news, straight from the horse’s enormous mouth that I want to start an exercise class.” Stanley began. Charles squinted at him, disapprovingly. Stanley continued, “I think we can all agree that we have some work to do when it comes to getting in ship-shape! Not to be confused with being shaped like a ship! Ha!”

There were some murmur’s and rumblings and general low-pitched grumblings coming from the farm friends. Mostly the rumblings were coming from Bruce’s tummy tank, but the general low-pitched grumblings were from skeptical, unhappy, bulky farm friends.

“I don’t think we all agree. Some of us are just built differently.” Poke said.

Stanley looked at Poke and shot back. “You’re not supposed to be built like a stuffed potato! Ha!”

“Stanley…” Mootilda warned.

“Okay, okay. I just want us to be a better version of ourselves. How about that?” Stanley replied with a scrunched-up face that made him look like he just at a sour grape.

While the talk of exercise and stuffed potato shaped creatures, and other silly stuff was going on, Bruce had wandered off and discovered more holes.

“Hey everybody! I’ve found some more holes over here!” He shouted.

Being a curious bunch, the crowd scampered about twenty feet to the right, where they tussled and rustled and elbowed each other to get a better look at the strange sight. “Wow!” More than one of them said. “Strange!” Someone from the back of the crowd whispered loudly, with a tiny bit of fear and dread. There were three or four holes, then more. Then they spotted five or six, then eight or nine, lots and lots of holes, too many to count as a matter of fact. Anyway, who had the time?!

“I smell apple pie!” Bruce exclaimed.

“Oh, that’s crazy talk, Bruce. I think your nose is on the fritz.” Mootilda answered.

“I know the smell of apples! My sniffer never fails when it’s on the trail of an apple, or anything apple adjacent!” Bruce replied.

Charles stuck his nose into one of the holes. “He’s right by golly, I smell it too.”

Stanley side-hopped and skipped his way over to Charles. “If that long-faced oat vacuum says he smell it too, then you know it’s true!” Charles swatted Stanley with his tail, but that didn’t faze him one bit.

“Manners, Stanley!” Mootilda yelled.

“The smell is coming from this hole too!” Poke shouted.

“And this one!” Maurice, Frederick, June Loon, Stephen Stuffing, and Quack Turkey pointed and exclaimed. The two swans named Juan declined to put their faces near any of the holes (gracefully of course)

“And I smell cima—cinma—cin—oh, you know, that good spice!” Dolly said.

“Vanilla?” Cindy Sue asked. Cindy Sue was a bit confused with all the action going on around her. It was very distracting.

“Cinnamon is the word I think you’re looking for…” Mootilda replied.

“What could be going on down there, Betty?” Bruce asked.

“That, my friend, is a mystery. I’ve never encountered holes that smell like apple pie.”

“Ooohhh, a mystery, you say?! Should I go get my cape, my fake mustache, and my magnifying glass? I can dress like a detective; I think I would pass.”

“Hold on there, Bruce, I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation why the ground smells like baked apple pie…” Frederick Alpaca said.

“And that would be?” Bruce asked, then waited for a reply. “It’s okay, I have all day…”

“I didn’t say the reasonable explanation would come quickly…” Frederick responded.

Suddenly they heard Gideon Rat speak. “There is a perfectly reasonable explanation. They’re baking apple pies down there. Ta-da!”

Everybody looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. As usual, Gideon didn’t announce his presence. He was sitting on a log a few feet away.

“I wish you would stop doing that! Stop popping up out of nowhere!” Mootilda complained.

“Do you want to know the answer to the mystery, or do you want me to moooove on?” Gideon replied.

Stanley let out a loud guffaw. “Ha-hah! Good one!”

“That was good.” Bruce whispered to Betty.

“Yes, please tell us what’s going on down there.” Poke said.

Gideon replied, “Apple pies are being made.”

“Well, we figured that part out!” Ramona Hen clucked.

“Yes, apple pies. Figured out.” Willie repeated.

“Who’s baking them? That’s the mystery.” Betty said.

“The Moles…” Gideon responded.

“The moles?!” Dolly Llama asked.

“Yeah, the Moles. They just moved in several days ago. They’re very good bakers—experts in their field. I was down there just yesterday, taste-testing some of their goods and I gotta tell you, I was not disappointed! Too bad you guys can’t fit in the holes…you should probably do a little exercising…I’m just saying.” Gideon said it with a definite smirk on his face.

Stanley guffawed again. “Ha-hah, another zinger! You win!”

“Are you telling us that there are a bunch of moles in the ground, right now, baking apple pies, and you’ve been down there?!” Charles asked.

“Yeah, that’s about the long—face, and the short of it, Chuck.” Gideon smiled a sly smile, looking pretty proud of himself. He continued, “They also make other treats, the custard tarts were magnificent. And don’t even ask me about the triple berry chocolate muffins—go ahead ask me…”

“How did we not know any of this?” Poke asked, looking around.

“I—I don’t know.” Mootilda answered.

“Probably for the same reason you never notice me, and some of the others here.” Gideon said.

“What do you mean?” Betty asked.

“What I mean is, your little club here tends to be quite exclusive…if you know what I mean—that’s what I mean.”

“No, I don’t know what you mean.” Charles said.

“Sometimes you all forget that some of us other creatures exist—you have to make a better effort to notice those of us who are less noticeable, or lower, to the ground for starters. We’re just as important to the group as the rest of you.”

“But I’m small-ish, and I don’t feel unnoticed.” Betty said.

“You don’t spend your time on the ground, do you? You’re generally up high on a branch, or an antler, or a beam in the big barn—somewhere up high at eye-level being noticed. Also, I’m not just talking about your physical size. I’m also talking about how the world sees you, or in this case the group here sees you—and your position in the group—your importance within the group. Some of us don’t get the same treatment. Some of us notice that you don’t pay as much attention to us, or value us, like you do yourselves. You’re always noticeable to each other in a way that the rest of us aren’t. What I’m saying is, some of us get overlooked on a regular basis. The Moles understand that, I understand that, but we don’t really like it. Maybe they haven’t come out of the ground and introduced themselves because they don’t think it would matter much to most of you. How many times have I attended one of your little meetings or get-togethers and startled you when I began speaking because you didn’t even notice I was present? —”

“Well, that part is true…” Dolly interrupted. There was a lot of murmuring and confusion and discussing (but no cussing!) then Betty responded.

“I honestly didn’t know you felt that way, Gideon. And I didn’t realize that we did that. I’m very sorry, I never meant to make you feel excluded.”

“Okay, okay, let’s not make it a big thing. I just wanted you all to be aware that some of us don’t always feel included in your little gang here, that’s all. I just thought you should know.” Gideon said.

Cindy Sue stepped closer to Gideon. “Hello, my name is Cindy Sue, and I see you.” she said reaching out her hand to shake his. Gideon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know you already, we’ve met, thanks though lady…”

“You’re right, Gideon, we should have been more aware of how some of you have been treated differently in the group. I’ll work on that.” Frederick Alpaca told him.

“We’ll all work on that, right?” Maurice said.

“I’m perfect the way I am…” Stanley announced.

There was a collective, “Oh brother!” to that statement by Stanley.

“Maybe we can start doing that now, with the moles.” Charles added.

“Would you be willing to talk to the moles and have them come up here so we can introduce ourselves?” Bruce asked.

“Sure, why not? I think you’ll really like them; they seem like a cool bunch. It’s a big family, are you ready for that?”

The farm friends all agreed they were ready to meet the Moles. There was excitement and a little bit of nervousness, but overall, a positive feeling. Bruce was especially excited to meet them, but it wasn’t just because of the apple pie. It was about making new friends, and apple pie.

“Are we going to the underground world to make pie with some mules?” Cindy Sue Butternut Squash-Pettigrew asked. Cindy Sue was a bit confused, but she had good friends around her to help find her way and watch out for her.

Some time had passed before Gideon finally emerged from one of the holes, licking the tips of his fingers and grinning a giant grin.

“What took so long?” Charles asked.

“It’s rude to rush moles to the surface…” Gideon responded.

“I see all that flaky pie crust and muffin bits on the front of your shirt. That’s what took so long!” Maurice said loudly.

Gideon brushed the front of his shirt several times and replied, “They’ll be up in a few minutes, they were in the middle of something.”

“Feeding you?” Mootilda responded.

Suddenly the group heard noise, and then voices. The moles were almost to the surface, and everybody was on pins and needles. Stanley squirmed, Charles stood up straight, Frederick stood firm, the rest of the friends breathed in and held tight, it was all about to happen, there was just a hint of heart flutters, but it wasn’t from fright. There was excitement and curiosity and wonder about the large Mole family from somewhere down under. The anticipation began to grow—even more.

“I’ve never met a mole.” Bruce whispered to Betty.

“Me neither. I don’t even think I’ve ever seen one.”

The first one slowly poked his head out of the hole. He saw a large crowd with big eyes waiting, then quickly disappeared. The friends heard a bunch of whispering going on down in that hole, but there was no more sign of a mole.

Gideon got everybody to back up a bit. He went to the hole and talked into it. “It’s okay, they’re friendly…well, most of them anyway…” Gideon backed up and waited patiently. After a moment the mole popped back up, then came out and stood next to the hole. The farm friends were silent at first, but then there was a collective, “Aww.” The mole whistled and one by one the rest of them popped out, and popped out, and popped out some more. It seemed like they were never going to stop popping out. They kept coming, like popcorn popping out of a mole hole.

Gideon walked over to the family of moles and shook hands with the first one that came out. He turned to the farm friends and said, “I’ll make the introductions. This may take a minute. “This is Oscar and Anna Mole, and these are their children, Lester, Chester, Nestor, Jester—the funny one, and this little one on the end is Pester—he’s a little stinker, and a bit of a winker. In this row we have Bubble, Trouble, Candy, Cinnamon, Taffy, Sticky, Vicky, and Clementine. In the back row we have, Julius, Jiffy, Missy, Sissy, Puffy and last but not least, the twins, Harry and Huffy. And that, my fair-weather friends, is the Mole family.”

The whole gang went silent for a moment, staring. Jaws were lowered to half-mast. Finally, after they collected their thoughts—and lifted their jaws from the ground, they had one simultaneous reaction. “Hello!”

The Mole family gave a shy wave to everyone. After Gideon introduced the Mole family to each of the farm friends, the tension and nervous energy seemed to gradually disappear, and everyone found themselves comfortable with each other. In no time they were all laughing and chatting and nattering like old pals. The Mole children took to Stanley like ducks take to water. Stanley was very child-like himself. He showed them all of his latest tricks and moves which thoroughly impressed them. They lived underground most of their lives, so just about everything above ground impressed them. Bruce couldn’t wait to meet each and every one of those mini moles. He knew he had to be careful, very careful with every step he took. He decided the best thing to do was to lower himself to the ground as much as possible. He was going for the ‘pancake look’ and it almost worked. Pretty soon the mini moles had surrounded him, looking up at him in awe. They had never seen anything so big—anything animal-like anyway. Those little moles checked him out in great detail, from his antler’s to his eyes—those little brown spies. They looked inside his ears and around his mouth, then looked him up and down and never showed a bit of fear. They had lots of questions for him too. Bruce didn’t mind, he liked the interest in him. He had his fair share of questions for them also. Several of those questions had to do with apple pie, of course. When he got most of the furry little gang of curious onlookers settled down, he asked them if they liked stories. They all said, “Yes, of course, you bet we do, how about you?”

“I love stories!” Bruce responded. “All kinds, and then some!” He added.

“Us too!” They shouted. “But there’s one problem.” Pester said, as he crossed his arms and pouted.

“What’s that?” Bruce asked.

“We can’t read!” They said in unison. Bruce gasped, snorted, raised an eyebrow, then shook his head.

“What do you mean you can’t read?! Why not?!”

“Mother and father can’t read either. Moles don’t read, there’s no need. We’d like to, but we don’t have anybody to teach us.” Jiffy, Missy, and Sissy responded.

Bruce thought for a moment, then asked, “Well, how do you read recipes then?”

“We don’t. We just know how to mix and bake and prepare everything from the way we were taught. It’s how our parents learned, and how their parents learned, and so on. We just know by doing it over and over.”

“Well, we are going to change that! I’m going to teach you how to read, that is, if you feel the want and the need. Reading can be taught by doing it over and over too!” Bruce said as he stood up. The moles backed up slowly and opened their mouths in awe. “I’ll be right back!” Bruce quickly, but gently, rambled over to Oscar and Anna Mole who were talking to Betty. He excitedly interrupted.

“Mr. and Mrs. Mole, I have an idea!”

“What’s that?” They asked.

“I would like to teach your children to read, if you please, and accept. I would like to help them with their words and imagination.”

“I see…” Anna Mole said.

“And just how would this work?” Oscar Mole asked.

“Uh—well, let’s see…Oh! How about this, they could come to the big barn a few days a week, with you of course, and we could all sit down—well, I could try to sit—I’m sort of round back there…anyway, we—they could all sit on bales of hay, and we could read books together. We could have snacks—maybe a pie? Or—well, anything really and we could use our imaginations…oh! And also, we could create a little library in one of the stalls, and they could check out books. What do you think?” Bruce looked uncomfortably nervous, and nervously uncomfortable, but tried to stay positive about his idea.

Betty added, “Also, we were thinking—well, Stanley had an idea about all of us starting an exercise class. Maybe we could make that part of it too. A mind and body class…thing…group…yeah…” Betty was getting a bit nervous too. She wasn’t usually like that, but the excitement was catching on.

Mr. and Mrs. Mole were quiet for a moment. They thought about it carefully and decided that maybe it was time for their children to learn new skills—something along with baking. Mind and body was important. Balance was important. Opening yourself up to new ideas was important. Discovering was important. They had a chance to change their lives, but still keep doing the things they were good at, and what kept them happy as a family. Baking was a tradition, and they were very good at it. Learning to read was new, but they could be good at that too. They could make reading together a new tradition.

Bruce and Betty were relieved and overjoyed. It wasn’t every day that they got to make new friends, accept new challenges, and come up with big ideas and plans like this. Each day had the potential for those things, and in smaller ways that did happen, but this was a monumental day for changing lives on the farm.

It was a few days later and all the farm friends, including the Mole clan, were gathered in the big barn. Bruce looked around and couldn’t believe his little brown spies. There were more creatures and objects in the big barn than he had ever seen. There were the usual hay bales and feedbags and pitchforks and bundles of rope in all sizes and sorts. There were shovels and rakes and a snack table full of assorted goodies like pies and cakes—more items than you could shake a stick at—there were even more sticks than you could shake a stick at! And on top of all of that, there were creatures galore. More than ever had been in the big barn before. There were turtles and rabbits and geese and sheep—there were frogs and stray dogs and emu’s and ostriches, a zebu and a greater kudu and a dromedary, a yak, a kinkajous, a chinchilla, a fruit bat, and three dozen wallaroo’s—wait, wait, wait! Hold on, some of those are definitely NOT on the farm, let’s reverse and go back! The point is, word got out that the Moles had been baking up a storm for the farm friends first official gathering as a thank you for inviting them to the very first reading club so naturally everyone was curious and wanted a good seat. Except for the ducks, who as usual, didn’t give a hoot. And all this excitement and bruh-ha-ha had to do with the new family of moles, and their tasty treats! Bruce had his eye, and his other eye, on a pie—apple of course. The five-layer carrot cake didn’t escape his attention either. He would tackle that after the pie, and a quick break. After all, even a large moose needed to give his tummy tank a bit of a breather.

“Attention everybody! Attention!” Mootilda shouted.

The crowd slowly simmered down to a low boil. Mootilda, Stanley, and Ramona Hen stood at the front of the group and waited patiently for everybody to calm themselves.

“Welcome, and thank you all for coming to our very first reading club!” There was a loud sound of whoops and hollers, along with a round of clapping and flapping and hoof stomping—and in the excitement of the moment, several bucks, prances, and giddy romping.

Mootilda went on, “Before we start, I’d just like to say that the purpose of this book club is to help each other with words. How to better read them, understand them, and enjoy them. I think we can all agree that everybody here is very interested in books and learning, and using our imaginations. So, that’s where we will start. We all go at our own pace, so keep that in mind. Thank you. Now Stanley will speak about the physical component of the reading club.”

Stanley jumped up on a bale of hay and bowed for some reason. Stanley was a silly goat, and very dramatic at times. “Hello everyone, thank you for coming! I’m here to tell you about our exercise class. Before and after each reading session—from this point forward—we’ll go out into the pasture and jump around. We’ll spin and twirl, and shake and whirl if we have to. We’ll do jumping jacks and flip-backs—well, back-flips for those of you who can. Anything that will make our hearts pump, and get our muscles moving and warmed up—get our sour pusses out of the grumpy dumps! I want all of us to focus, and have a clear mind, and one of the ways we do that is to release the tension in our bodies. Speaking of tension, I have a story—a story about a young goat who became the greatest—”

“Okay, thank you Stanley!” Ramona Hen interrupted, shooing him off the bale of hay. Stanley had that sour puss look on his face that he had just been talking about as he jumped down. Ramona continued, “Again, thank you all for doing this, it’s important, and it brings us closer together as a community. Bruce has picked out our first book, and I think you’ll like it. It’s called, ‘Juicy, Red, and Ripe—Are You There, Apple?’ Well, I don’t think we have to guess what that’s about…” Ramona shook her head as she held up the book.

Well, the weeks had passed quickly with the farm friends gathering every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday to shake, flip, spin, run, prance, dance and jump all their nervous energy out before settling in to read and discuss and learn and laugh and use their imaginations. They also filled up on plenty of snacks (healthy and not so healthy) and chatted to each other about their lives.

By now the time had flown by and it was the middle of winter and most of the farm friends stayed inside more than ever because of the Shiverburr Lake weather. They group had taken a break from the reading club so some of the friends could lay low for a bit and stay warm. Bruce loved to be outside during this time, so he took advantage of the time off. Betty wasn’t a huge fan of cold winters, so he spent quite a bit of time on his own, rambling around the sanctuary. It was a very quiet time of year; the snow blanketed the sanctuary so there was very little noise and Bruce enjoyed that silence. One morning Bruce was out in the pasture and decided to stop by the many holes, where he first encountered the moles. He thought that the smell of something baking would be just perfect right about then. He sniffed around and dug a little, but there was nothing. No smell, no sound, no holes that were round. They weren’t any shape. It looked like they hadn’t been taken care of for days. He couldn’t figure out what was going on. He went to another hole and sniffed and dug some more, but like the first hole, there was nothing to explore. “Hmm, I don’t understand. It’s like nobody’s there anymore.”

Bruce shook all the snow off himself and quietly crept into the big barn and into his stall. He thought for a moment, wondering why the Moles weren’t in their holes. Just then, Betty hopped down from her high perch near the ceiling.

“Are you okay, Bruce?”

“Well, I’m confused.” He answered.

“About what?”

“The Moles. They don’t seem to be home. Where could they be in this weather?”

Suddenly Gideon Rat popped out of the hay. “They left.” He said.

“What?!” Bruce’s eyes opened wide. They bounced from side to side.

“They left. They moved. They went to greener pastures, you might say. They took off—went away.”

“Well, why would they do that? Why wouldn’t they say goodbye?!”

Gideon scurried up a shovel that was leaning against the wall in Bruce’s stall and ran across the top of the gate to get closer to his face. “It’s just how they are. It’s nothing personal, Bruce. They just decided to find another territory. Maybe some day they’ll be back, who knows. I can tell you though, they said this place, and all the creatures who live here, made a difference in their lives.”

“It did? We did? They said that?” Bruce asked.

“Sure, they said that. They learned something here that they’ve never ever learned anywhere else.”

“To read, right?!” Bruce answered, excitedly.

“No, they learned the worms here weren’t all that great.”

Bruce’s face went all droopy. “Oh…”

“I’m just kidding, Bruce. I just wanted to see your reaction. Of course it was because they learned to read!” Gideon chuckled.

“Well, I guess that’s something…” Bruce looked a tiny bit happier when he heard that. He was still a bit sad though. He really liked having the Moles around.

“Bruce, I know you’re disappointed, but think of it this way, you made a big difference in their lives. You wanted to help them, and you found a way to do just that. We all did in fact. Because of you, they’ll be reading from now on, and teaching other Moles to read too. They’ll make a difference in some other creatures’ lives. They may not have been here very long, but it doesn’t always take a lot of time to make a big impact on someone else’s life.” Betty said.

“I know you’re right, Betty, but I’m going to miss them. It was more than helping them learn to read. I liked being around that big family. It was like a big, loud, messy, and fun celebration all the time.”

“Maybe you can still do your little reading club. I’m sure the goat will be more than willing to lead the exercise class still…he’s messy and loud. You’ll just have to wait until the weather gets better. Nobody’s gonna want to be out exercising in this weather.” Gideon said, trying to be helpful.

“Maybe…it just won’t be the same without all those little Moles hanging around.” Bruce sighed. The air coming out of his nostrils practically knocked Gideon off the gate.

It was early spring, and the snow was gone, but it was still cold outside. The sun was shining brightly, and the morning dew glistened on just about everything on the farm. Bruce and Betty stood out in the pasture sunning themselves, enjoying the silence. Well, it wasn’t long before that silence was broken by a certain furry little creature with little horns on his head. Stanley came bouncing into the pasture, giddy with excitement.

“What is going on with you, Stanley?” Betty asked.

“Oh, I’m just excited about this glorious morning! The sun is bright, the air is cold and crisp, spring has sprung and I’m feeling very positive about the day to come! Whoop whoop!”

Bruce and Betty looked very skeptical, confused, and suspicious. Stanley was up to something. Just about then, a bunch of the farm friends were entering the pasture and walking toward Bruce, Betty, and Stanley. The gang stopped and said nothing. Cindy Sue Butternut Squash-Pettigrew stepped forward and said to Bruce, “Happy birthday!”

“No Cindy Sue, it’s not his birthday, try again.” Charles Horse said in an irritated tone while rolling his eyes.

“Happy…uh, fools day?!” She said, trying again. Cindy Sue was confused, but that was old news.

Ramona gently pulled Cindy Sue back into the crowd. “No honey, not that either.”

“Happy Anniversary!” Mootilda said.

“Anniversary?!” Bruce asked.

“Yes, Bruce. It was on this day two years ago that you joined us at the sanctuary.” Betty reminded him.

“It was?! Oh, I didn’t remember.”

“Well, some of us do!” Poke Pig shouted.

“Yeah, you almost stepped on most of us the first few weeks! We almost had squashed chicken and mashed pigeon and flat rabbit and—” Stanley said before he was interrupted.

“Stanley!” Poke shouted.

“Well, I remember that…kind of.” Bruce responded.

“Happy anniversary young man—moose…” Frederick Alpaca told him.

“It was an important day for you, and a very important day for the rest of us, Bruce.” Mootilda told him, smiling a big smile.

“It was?!”

“Of course. There’s nobody like you and we’re all happy you’re here, and we’re all better because of it.” Betty said just before she let out a big happy crow.

“That’s right! It wouldn’t be the same here without you.” Charles added.

“Hey, why don’t we go up to the big barn and have a little story time, how does that sound?” Poke said.

“Well, okay, that would be a good way to celebrate my anniversary. But I think this time I’d like to be read to.” Bruce answered excitedly.

“I think we can manage that!” Ramona clucked.

The group made their way up to the big barn. All of them stopped at the door and had Bruce open it. As soon as he started to enter the gang yelled, “Surprise!”

In the barn there were ribbons and bows and lots of pies and cakes and…Moles! The Mole family, each and every one had come back to celebrate with Bruce and the rest of the farm friends—and they brought all the treats a big moose and his good friends could eat. Bruce was so happy they were back, even if it was just for the day. As the gathering commencedd, the big barn was the place to be in Shiverburr Lake. It was a barn filled with laughter, happiness, squeals, even some tricks. There was a little bit of magic, surprises, and great big heaping heaps of delicious home cooked meals. After the crowd’s tummy tanks were full, Bruce decided that was the perfect moment to have everybody gather around for a story. He changed his mind and decided on this special occasion that he would read the story. A hush came over the crowd when Bruce stepped up to the front of the room. All the little Moles, who had grown quite a bit in the last months, but were still little compared to Bruce, were on the edge of their seats—well, on the edge of their haybales. Bruce was a great storyteller; he knew just how to use his imagination to make whatever he was talking about even more interesting. He knew when to talk softly, in almost a hush, and when to go faster and louder like he was in a big rush. His farm friends couldn’t have been any prouder. As he read on there were more than a few creatures who began to yawn—not from boredom! Bruce was just that good at relaxing those around him when it came to his storytelling . Pretty soon there was one creature in particular that couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She was a frail quail who lived in a pail—no more hints! She was out like a light, and it wasn’t even a bedtime story Bruce was telling! Well, that was all the Mole children needed. By the time Bruce had finished telling the story, the Mole kids had decorated that frail quail with bits and bobs from around the big barn. She looked like a strange Christmas tree wearing a bonnet, and snoozing away. They even put an ‘out of order’ sign on her which some of the farm friends found amusing. It was better than a ‘kick me’ sign is how they looked at it.

Bruce was a hit with the crowd, and he was very proud that he made a difference to other creatures. That made him very happy. So happy he decided to reward himself with a second piece of apple pie. As he put pie in his pie-hole, he got compliments left and right for his imagination that day. The biggest compliment came from Willie, when she walked directly up to him and said, “Bruce, you were wonderful and I’m glad you’re here!” Willie spoke in a complete sentence! Now that was something! Bruce was just thankful that he had such good friends. That was important to him.

It was time for the Moles to go, but wouldn’t you know, they ran out of dough—so, they just said, “thank you” to the farm friends for all their help and their friendship before moving on to a new territory. Bruce was sad, but very glad for the time he got to spend with them and that was what he wanted to focus on. He stood at the barn door and said goodbye to each and every one of the Moles’.

“Goodbye Oscar, goodbye Anna, goodbye Lester, Chester, Nestor, Jester—the funny one, and to you too Pester. Goodbye Bubble, Trouble, Candy, Cinnamon, Taffy, Sticky, Vicky, and Clementine. So long Julius, Jiffy, Missy, Sissy, Puffy, and last but not least, the twins, Harry and Huffy. I will miss all of you. I hope to see you again in the future.”

The Mole family said goodbye and went on their way, disappearing into a hole out in the pasture. The only hole left now was the little one in Bruce’s heart. Bruce sighed, but he never cried, not once, because he was more thankful than sad. It wasn’t the best outcome, but it was an important lesson in growing up and that was progress.

Bruce and Betty finished the day in the big barn. It was very quiet compared to earlier in the day. It was like someone had suddenly turned off all the sound in the world.

“Well Bruce, it was a long day. I am tired, but I’m so happy. I get to fall asleep tonight knowing that we made some good friends, and some great memories. We learned a lot too. That’s always a good day.”

“What part did you like the best, Betty?”

“All of it. Everything. The food, the noise, the activity, the chaos, the laughing, the joy, the friends, the stories…it all counts. It all matters. It makes me appreciate the farm even more.”

“I like all those things too.” Bruce thought for a moment, then added, “I want to do something special tomorrow.”

“Like what, Bruce?”

“I want to give Gideon a ride out to the pasture and give him this—” Bruce gently pulled a plate out of a hiding spot in his stall. It had a piece of apple pie on it. “I saved this for him.”

“Well, that’s nice of you. What made you want to do that?” Betty asked.

“He was right, we should make every creature on the farm feel equal and important, no matter their size. I just thought I’d do something nice for him. He was the one who introduced us to the Mole family, and I appreciate that.”

“I think that’s a great idea, I’m with you on that buddy.”

Bruce and Betty fell silent, each one thinking about the great day. Suddenly they heard a voice coming from somewhere under the hay.

“Can I eat the pie now?”

Gideon was always popping up out of nowhere.