In The Footsteps Of The Masters…

Father and son stood in the sandy dunes, watching the flaming vapor trail of the launch vehicle as it soared towards space, bellowing out its defiance to gravity. “This is a proud day, son,” the father said, “We are the first of our kind to send a rocket into space. They say that, perhaps, the old masters managed such a feat, before the great waters came and swept their civilizations away. Our people returned to the old ways of the forest and the hunt, and it has taken us a long time to get here.”

“How can we know that the old masters ever sent a rocket into space, father?” the son wanted to know.

“The archaeologists are constantly poking around the ruins of those who came before us,” the father replied. “They have lately been using undersea vehicles to explore more of the old cities. I was reading an article just the other day about what appears to be a museum found off the coast not far from here. Supposedly, there were the remains of what looked like space craft of some sort. Now, we must get you back to school. But I am glad I checked you out to be here for this historic occasion.”

The son wagged his tail-stump in appreciative happiness, then bent to politely sniff his father’s hindquarters. “Dad, have you been taking your cholesterol medicine? You smell a little like you haven’t been.”

The father shook his head, and admitted he hadn’t taken it yet that day. He hugged his son to him, giving his muzzle a lick. As they walked back to the car, the father took this bonding time as an opportunity to ask his son about his school work, and, just because he was curious to know what the young people thought of one of the issues that was constantly in the news, he asked one last question.

“So, tell me, Spot, you don’t really take all this talk of global warming seriously, do you?”