“I’m not sure what I did,” said Beaver, stretching his left shoulder painfully, “it just hurts.”
“I hurt my leg last summer,” said Hare. “You should go talk to Dog, Beaver. Humans have all sorts of ways to fix aches and pains, and Dog knows about them. When I hurt my leg last year, Dog showed me how to wrap it up tight, and I think it helped.”
“Good idea,” said Beaver. I’ll go see if Dog is home.”
Beaver arrived at Dog’s house and thumped his tail on the ground to say he was outside. But instead of Dog, out came Ferret.
“Hello, Ferret,” said Beaver, “is Dog at home? I had a question I wanted to ask her.”
“Sorry, Beaver, but Dog is away for the whole day. She’s visiting somebody. Well, I mean Andy is visiting somebody, and he took Dog with him.”
“Oh dear,” said Beaver. He flexed his shoulder. “Ow.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Ferret.
“I hurt my shoulder somehow,” said Beaver, “and Hare said Dog knows about things to do when something hurts.”
“Ha!” said Ferret, “lucky for you, Beaver, I know about that too! Sally just told me yesterday about her mother going to see some special kind of person who fixes things that hurt. Maybe we can do that for you.”
“Okay, I’ll try it,” said Beaver. “What do we do?”
“Hmm, let me think,” said Ferret. “Sally said something about needles…but that can’t be right. And there was a word… ‘acro…’ ‘aggra…’ ‘accu…’”
Beaver was feeling testy because his shoulder hurt, so he said “Come on, Ferret, do you know about what to do or not? I don’t mean to argue, but I don’t think you even know…”
“That’s it!” said Ferret. “Argue! Sally said her mother got ‘arguepuncture’!”
“Arguepuncture?” said Beaver doubtfully. “What’s that supposed to be?”
“It seems to me,” said Ferret, scratching his head the way he always did when trying to figure something out, “that it must have to do with arguing about something, and then the doctor — that’ll be me — pokes holes in your argument. That’s what puncturing means, you know, poking holes.”
“I know perfectly well what puncture means,” grumbled Beaver. “And I don’t see what that could possibly have to do with my shoulder.”
“Oh you don’t, don’t you? Well what’s your shoulder connected to?”
“Um…my front arm and my neck, I guess.”
“And what’s inside your neck? Your throat, right?”
“I suppose,” said Beaver.
“And when you’re arguing about something, where does the sound come from? Your throat! So that’s how it’s connected, and there! I just poked a big hole in your argument!” said Ferret proudly.
“But that’s ridiculous,” said Beaver. “Just because my voice is in my throat, and that’s not too far from my shoulder, has nothing to do with how my shoulder feels.”
“Ridiculous, is it? What was one of the first words you said when I told you Dog wasn’t home? You said ‘ow’. And why did you say ‘ow’ right then? It looked to me, Beaver, like it was because you were moving your shoulder, and it hurt. So I guess your voice DOES have something to do with how your shoulder feels!”
Ferret was obviously feeling so proud of himself that Beaver, who was still feeling annoyed, said “You’re thinking about connections the wrong way. The only kind of connection we should be thinking about is the kind of connection where one thing causes another thing. You’re just thinking of any old connection. Like…like Maisy the Cow being connected to Jake the Horse because they live in the same barn.”
“That’s exactly the connection I mean,” said Ferret. “Remember last month when Jake got mad at Barney the Barn Owl and kicked the side of the barn to scare him? Well what happened? A pile of hay fell out of the hayloft. And who did the hay fall on? Maisy! So just by being there, Jake IS connected to Maisy the way you’re talking about. And that, Beaver, is another arguepuncture!”
“That was nothing but an accident!” yelled Beaver. “I’m talking about the kind of connection where you have something that hurts and you wrap it tight and then it feels better!”
“When you make an argument,” said Ferret, “and you’re very careful to cover all the possibilities, and you make sure you have all the possibilities accounted for, couldn’t you call that a tightly-wrapped argument? Hmmmm, Beaver?”
“I guess so,” said Beaver.
“Then there you have it,” announced Ferret. “We’re wrapping something tightly and it will feel better. Sally said arguepuncture helped her mom feel better. How’s your shoulder, by the way?”
Beaver flexed his shoulder. “Um..” he said. He rubbed his shoulder with his other paw. “It…well it doesn’t really hurt any more, Ferret. I guess I got so wrapped up in your silly arguments that I forgot about it.”
“That,” said Ferret, “must be how arguepuncture is supposed to work. No need to thank me, Beaver. Feel free to stop by any time you have an ache or a pain. But now you’ll have to excuse me; it’s time for my nap. Ta-ta for now!”
With that, Ferret trotted back in the house for his next nap. Beaver flexed his shoulder again, then shrugged and headed back to Hare’s. Even shrugging didn’t hurt.
“How did it go,” asked Hare, “did Dog help with your shoulder?”
“Dog wasn’t home,” said Beaver, “but Ferret was there, and he helped me. At least I guess he did.”
“You’d be the first to know if your shoulder felt better,” said Hare. “So does it?”
“It really does,” said Beaver, “but I don’t understand why.”
“What did Ferret do?”
“Something he called arguepuncture.”
“Never heard of it,” said Hare. “But did he wrap it it tight?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know,” said Beaver.
“If it feels better, then he probably did,” said Hare. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re feeling better, Beaver. Do you have time for some tea and cake?”
“I do,” said Beaver. “Thank you, Hare. Maybe if I relax over a cup of your tea I’ll be able to figure out what just happened.”
“Don’t try too hard,” said Hare, “when something hurts, fixing it is a very mysterious process. Why did my leg feel better when Dog wrapped it tight? I have no idea. Doesn’t really make any sense, if you think about it. But it worked, so that’s good enough for me.”
“I suppose you’re right,” said Beaver. He brightened up. “And now I think I could help somebody else with arguepuncture if something hurts. It seemed pretty easy.”
“Good,” said Hare, “if I hear about somebody with an ache or a pain, and Ferret isn’t around, I’ll send them straight to you. Tea’s ready!”
Beaver sighed and sat down with his teacup, shaking his head. “I still don’t understand it,” he said, “but I guess I do feel better. ‘Arguepuncture’, though? Weird.”
