Posse Folk Wisdom.

At that moment, there was nothing but the scenery showing on Beagle TV. There was no traffic on the Front Window channel, and no tree rodents on the Side Door channel. Still, the Posse was glued to the set.

I happened to be sitting in the living room with them, spending highly productive time on pointless FaceBook chatter. A young teen boy with a skateboard walked down the street and turned up our drive. The drive has a bit of a slope, and he put the board down to take advantage of it and give himself added momentum.

I was confused as the Posse watched him skate away and spoke not a word. Not even a little throat growl. Generally, when a leaf blows up the walk, let alone a cat, a postman, Fedex man, or UPS driver, (Feel free to substitute “woman” for “man” in any of those descriptors. It makes no difference to the Posse.) any person, animal, or even imaginary being, Tommy and Tuppence let loose with a frenzy of barking sufficient to announce the Apocalypse.

Nothing this time.

I nudged them, “Hey, why didn't you warn me about that boy?”

Tommy looked over his shoulder and explained, “Because of the ancient Canine folk tale. There is a lot to be learned from the ancestors.”

Canine folk tale? “And just what tale is this?” I asked.

With an impatient sigh, Tuppence explained, “The Wolf Who Cried “Boy.”