Folks, Please take note! As Crystal warns Percy, if you want to view Goldie's Page (Daniel's page, not this story) using the link in the title of this story or the link included in the story, you must use a Web Archive file compatible browser such as Microsoft Internet Explorer. You can not view it with Mozilla Firefox or other non-supporting browsers.
© 2006 Janice Price
Cameron leaps gracefully onto the computer desk and asks casually, “Whatcha doin?”
Percy, deeply engrossed in staring at the monitor, answers, “Reading Jan’s email.”
“You are soooooo going to get in big trouble when Jan catches you,” Buddy laughs, as he sits down beside the secretarial chair Percy is standing on to reach the keyboard.
“She’ll have to catch me first, won’t she?”
“Isn’t there a federal law about opening mail that doesn’t belong to you?” Cotton asks.
“That’s only for postal mail. This is email. Who’s going to arrest me for opening mail on my own computer?” Percy says, with hauteur.
Cyndi sputters. “You’re computer? You’re computer? You’re…”
Crystal deliberately steps on Cyndi’s paw. “Ouch!”
“I’m sorry about that, Cyndi, but it was the only way I could think of to unstick your repeat button.”
“Cyndi has a repeat button?” Cameron walks slowly around Cyndi. “How come I don’t have one?”
“Cyndi doesn’t have a repeat button,” Merci says, as she joins the group, sitting on the other side of Percy’s chair. “Crystal is just joking.”
Samaritan enters the living room, sees the group gathered around the computer, and joins them, seating himself next to Merci. “What’s going on, guys?”
“We’re having a meeting,” Crystal tells him.
“If we’re having a meeting,” Cameron interjects, “I need to collect your dues. You are all in arrears.”
“We are not having a meeting,” Percy grumbles. “And will you all be quiet! I’m trying to read.”
“What’s this about dues?” Samaritan asks.
Cotton waves a paw in the air. “Oh, don’t pay any attention to Cameron. Every time we run into one another at the water bowl, Cameron thinks we should pay dues.”
“But I’m the club Treasurer,” Cameron protests. “I’m supposed to collect dues, but you guys never pay them.”
Samaritan’s curiosity is piqued. “What kind of club is it?”
“The Funny Farm Writing Club,” Crystal answers him. “We started it to help Jan learn to write, but we’ve gotten lax in our writings.”
“Yeah,” Crystal, the club president says, “we really need to start having regular meetings and writing more stories. I always enjoyed reading our stories. I thought they were pretty good, even if Jan thinks they sound as if they are written by a bunch of animals.”
“Well, we are a bunch of animals,” Cyndi reminds him. “But we do a pretty good job for self-taught writers.” She smiles at Cotton. “And Cotton is better than the spell check Jan uses. She can spell better than Jan. She’s a drain.”
Cotton’s eyes widen. “I’m a what?”
“I’m sorry. You’re a brain. I meant to say you’re a brain, Cotton.”
“Quiet!” Percy commands. “I just found something interesting. Someone sent Jan a link to something called Goldie’s Page. I wonder what a Goldie is.”
“Check it out, “Cotton encourages him.
“Well, this is a waste of time, “Percy crabs. “It’s all garbled.”
“Wait,” Crystal says insistently, “what web browser are you using?
“Web browser? What web browser are you using?” He points to the text on the screen: This document is a Single File Web Page, also known as a Web Archive file. If you are seeing this message, your browser or editor doesn’t support Web Archive files. Please download a browser that supports Web Archive, such as Microsoft Internet Explorer.
Percy scowls. Then he brightens. “Wait, I think we have Internet Explorer. Yes, here it is. And voila, here we are at Goldie’s Page.”
“It’s Goldie,” Samaritan exclaims with excitement.
“Who’s Goldie?” the cats ask in unison.
Buddy smiles. “I recognize Goldie.” He glances over at Merci. “We’ve seen her when Jan stops at Miss Teresa’s. She lives next door.”
“Oh, right. She’s the dog with eight puppies.” Total recognition sets in. “Oh, yes. She’s Charlotte’s mama.”
“Who’s Charlotte?” the cats demand to know.
Buddy says, a bit smugly, “You cats really need to get out more. You don’t know anyone, do you?” His tone softens. “Charlotte is Mr. Doug’s latest puppy. We’ll have to tell you about her and Fraggle one day, but right now, I’d like to know why Goldie has her own web page. Is she a writer too?”
“No,” Percy admits. “I think she’s a model. Goldie and her puppies all have their own picture pages. There’s also a story here about “Goldie’s Eight Fabulous Puppies” and how they were rescued.”
“Wow! That is such a neat story!” Buddy chuckles. “And I thought Jan was generous when she took you in, Samaritan. I think she would have kept going if there had been eight of you.”
Merci reaches one paw up to pat Samaritan on one leg, since he’s too tall for her to pat him on his head. “I’m sure glad there weren’t eight of you, Samaritan. We would have missed meeting you.”
“Yeah,” Buddy echoes her sentiment, “I like having a new brother to wrestle and play tug of war with. Not that I don’t enjoy playing with you, Merci,” he quickly corrects himself. “I didn’t mean to offend you. We still have fun playing together. It’s just that Samaritan is a guy and he is closer to my size.”
“No offense taken, Buddy.”
Cotton begins to cry. “What’s wrong, Cotton?” Cyndi asks solicitously.
“Can you believe it? Someone actually took in a mama dog and all her puppies. What if Jan hadn’t taken in me? Or you, Crystal? Or any of us? There are so many abandoned animals in the world. Only a few of them are rescued and given a home. We are some of the fortunate ones.”
Buddy sniffs quietly. “Yes, we are. And so are Goldie and her puppies.”
Percy, Secretary to the Funny Farm Writing Club