The Mail
As the animals’ de facto postmaster, Squirrel had reached an understanding with the Gardener, who occasionally left some of his postage stamps in the drawer of the porch table, forgetting to bring them inside the cottage.
When Raccoon, Mama Chipmunk, Rabbit, Crow and the others gave him their letters and cards to mail, Squirrel patted a sticky stamp onto each envelope and dropped them in the cottage mailbox.
And every afternoon except Sunday, at 5 o’clock sharp, Squirrel kept watch as the Gardener collected his mail from the box and set any mis-addressed envelopes on the table. That was Squirrel’s cue, of course, to hop onto the porch, grab the Garden mail, and make his deliveries.
On this holiday weekend, however, instead of envelopes there was a rather large box on the porch table, wrapped in plain brown paper, with a foreign-looking return address and a customs form that read “Black Tea.” Squirrel hollered for Crow. Envelopes were easy, but he would probably need help carrying this box to Rabbit’s burrow.
(November 2022)
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