This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. I was recently rifling through a rack of

tuxedoes, searching for the perfect style for my neighbor's cat, Mr. Winkle-Smith.

He's being honored for an act of bravery at an upcoming buffet dinner. Anyway, my neighbor

asked me to pick out the tuxedo as she's been unable to get around much due to twisting her ankle during a jellyfish juggling routine.

I said, sure, thinking, how difficult could it be to select a tuxedo for a cat?

It turned out to be more challenging than I'd expected.

As soon as I'd picked the perfect suit, I discovered, to my shock and dismay,

it was not a tuxedo meant for a cat at all. It was meant for a rat. It did look a bit on the

small side. As I resumed my search for a feline tuxedo, I happened to spot out of the corner of my eye,

a beetle skittering its way across the floor. And just like that, I was hit in the head with a burning

question, what has Mr. Beetle been up to? Let's find out. It's called

Mr. Beetle takes a bow. Take it away, Nora. Remember, there are no pictures. You'll have to

imagine them in your mind. You can imagine them however you want. Okay, here we go.

It was a lovely evening in spring when old Mr. Beetle, talented bootmaker turned late in life

storyteller, set off towards the 25th branch for his usual Wednesday night story time for young

bugs. He looked forward to his storytime evenings. They had come to be the highlight of the

back end of his life. He relished, seeing his audience's reaction to his ratcheting up the tension in a

tail. I'm literally on the edge of my seat. I just fell off mine. Making the young bugs

chortle with laughter. Stop, I'm getting a cramp. Before fatiguing them in a good way.

Can not function.

Until they fell asleep where they sat.

But this particular Wednesday evening did not feel usual, not with the pit of uncertainty that had settled into Mr. Beetle's abdomen.

...