Precious Cargo

"This shit wagon, this place of utter non-redemption," Herald muttered to Alberto. They squatted on the banks of the Vertigo and watched the rafts float by, steered by Fur People using long poles. On the rafts were crammed animals and vegetation: bobcats, flowering squash bushes, ruby-throated warblers, star nosed moles- you name it. Herald felt angry at the Fur People. He wanted with every fiber in his being to inspect the precious cargo. If he had learned anything at Yahweh's Mammalry Business College, it was to respect the sanctity of nature's abundance. What right did those Fur People have to take mammals from the past into who-knows-what kind of future.
"You're just jealous," Alberto muttered back at him. They'd been watching this parade for hours, all morning. Bashwalup! had wandered down to the banks and called out to a raft. It sounded like, "Herragh chockel kraww doo-doo?" and the Fur Person on the raft had answered back, "Smarrr-gellup gunden crumplin.Ho har-nu gallum carumph galloo. "
"I wonder what that was all about?" Herald and Alberto asked each other.
Medicine Dan called out from under the bush where Sally and her pups lay curled and suckling. "They say they're delivering a shipment of exotics to Lady Angela, for the Replenishment Project."
"Well how the hockey-puck do you know Fur-talk?" shouted back Alberto. Medicine Dan grunted and turned back to the pups, gently adjusting their positions so that none were uncomfortable. Sally adored Medicine Dan with her eyes and sighed.
"I say we follow them, we build a raft and go where they're going," said Herald to Alberto. "If anyone should be involved in this Replenishment Project, it's you and me. Didn't we graduate top of our class, with specialities in small mammal encouragement and habitat detection?"
"Yeah but, what about them," he nodded over at Medicine Dan and the dogs. "They shouldn't be moved, right? Didn't we learn that in 'The first twenty days of life; the newborn mammal environment'?" The two argued back and forth all the while keeping their eyes glued to the increasingly ridiculous procession of rafts.