Cleo’s Birdhouse Bluff — Every afternoon, behind the cider shed, Cleo padded along the lowest apple branch and played a game she had invented: Birdhouse Bluff. The rules were simple. Read the full story →
Every afternoon, behind the cider shed, Cleo padded along the lowest apple branch and played a game she had invented: Birdhouse Bluff. The rules were simple. Stare at the wooden house, flick your tail like a bossy squirrel, and pretend you were about to knock. The leaves smelled sharp and green, and the branch gave a friendly creak under her paws. She always stopped three pawsteps away.
Until one windy day, the birdhouse door clacked open—tap-tap!—and a tiny paper flag popped out. Because of that, Cleo puffed up and added a new rule: inspectors must answer flags. Because of THAT, she had to creep closer than ever, whiskers buzzing, while something inside went scratchy-scratch-scratch. “I am extremely official,” she squeaked.
At last, Cleo made one small hop to the knobby branch beside it. Inside was not a bird, but a beetle rolling apple seeds into a lopsided tower. Cleo stamped the branch once: approved. The beetle saluted with two twigs. If you spot her raised paw and proud tail, you’ll know exactly when Birdhouse Bluff became real behind the cider shed.
