Here is my story - it is a very rough draft and it is meant to have illustrations so please imagine cute pictures to go along with it.
Once there was a lovely boy named William, who had a dog named Sam. William and Sam had a hobby of collecting stamps. I know this sounds strange for a boy and his dog to do together but living in the rainiest town in England running around outside made for runny noises and muddy floors. Plus bowling was already taken by Charlie and his dog Bon Bon.
One day William ran out of money to by stamps. "Mum, can I have a pound to buy some stamps?"
He asked.
"Oh, Willy we can't afford a pence let alone a pound, I'm sorry." His mum replied sadly.
"Sorry, Sam looks like no more stamps for us." Sam whimpered in reply.
"Willy, why don't you send a letter to your Aunt Dottie and ask her for some American stamps? You know she would love to help her little William out."
William jumped out of his chair, ran to his desk, penned a letter, and gave it to Sam to take to the mailbox without even taking a breath.
William's letter traveled by boat, then plane, then truck to get all the way to dear Aunt Dottie. Aunt Dottie was so excited to get William's letter that she grabbed her cat Frankie and spun around. "Of course I will send you stamps my dear boy." She said as she laughed. "Now, I just need to remember to go to the post office tomorrow." She looked around for somewhere to put William's letter where she would remember. There didn't seem to be anywhere suitable for such an important letter. Then the brilliant thought came to her. "I shall put it in my jacket pocket that way I will be sure to remember." She told Frankie who was still a bit wobbly from the spin. Then Aunt Dottie went to bed. Aunt Dottie's idea to put the note in her jacket would have been brilliant if she lived in England or Alaska where the weather was quite predictable, but she didn't live in England nor Alaska she lived in Utah. The place where in April you could expect snow, rain, sleet, hail, or sunshine. In this case snow, rain, sleet, or hail would have been prefered but this just happened to be the year for sunshine. When Aunt Dottie woke up she was so excited to see so much sunshine that she forgot about her jacket and also little Williams note.
William and Sam watched for the postman every day and every day they were disappointed to not get a letter from Aunt Dottie. "Maybe she forgot us, Sam?"
Meanwhile Aunt Dottie was enjoying the hottest April in history. Then suddenly a strange wind blew and heavy clouds crowned the sky. "Well, Frankie looks like the heat wave is over." Aunt Dottie said as she took her jacket out of the closet and put it near the door for the next morning. It looked like William and Sam would finally get their stamps. That was until Frankie decided to make a bed out of Aunt Dottie's alarm clock. Aunt Dottie woke up so late that she ran out the door with curlers in her hair, half her make up off, and sadly no jacket.
"Look Sam, here comes the Postman," William said hopefully, "and there goes the Postman." He said sadly as the Postman walked by his house without stopping.
It was a very very rainy morning at Aunt Dottie's house and just as she was about to put on her jacket to go out a gust of wind blew the neighbors giant umbrella into her yard landing perfectly between Aunt Dottie's house and her car. 'What Luck,' Aunt Dottie thought as she put her jacket down and walked under the miraculously placed umbrella.
Back in the rainiest town in England William and Sam tried a new hobby since no stamps were coming, indoor Rugby. This hobby was very short lived after seven dishes, three lamps, and one big toe were broken.
Finally it was the perfect weather for Aunt Dottie to wear her jacket. There were no cats on alarm clocks, no umbrellas, and no unusually hot days. Aunt Dottie pulled her jacket on, put her hands in her pockets, and felt a piece of paper. She pulled it out then realized that it was little Williams note. "Oh, no the stamps!" She yelled to Frankie as she ran out the door.
William and Sam were playing in the rain when the postman brought the giant box to the door. 'Could it be?' thought William. He ripped the package open uncovering the biggest pile of stamps he had ever seen but the best part of the package was the note from Aunt Dottie.
"My Dearest William and you to Sam,
I may have forgotten your stamps for a time but I never ever forgot about you. I love you a million times over. Love, your forgetful Aunt Dottie.
Showing posts with label Dog and Child. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dog and Child. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
TOM
"Avast ye land lubbers! Hoist that sail!" shouted Tom to his posse of neighborhood boys. The six boys tied up an old sheet they had gotten from Tom's mother in the branches above the tree house.
All the boys were sporting various hats and eye patches, some made of paper, some made of cloth. They were also wearing the raggiest clothes they could find. Poor Daniel stood out like a sore thumb. His mother never let his clothes get ragged, despite his protests.
"Where we be sailin' to this mornin' cap'n?" asked first mate Johnny.
"We be sailin' to Jamaica! There be a village to pillage! Let's shove off!"
"Aye Cap'n!" shouted the boys.
Tom's dog, having seen Tom, jumped up and barked.
"Cap'n! There be a dog shark off the port bow!" shouted lookout Steve.
"We'll harpoon it, and have it for dinner!"
"Dinner!" shouted the boys.
"Uh, Cap'n? What's a harpoon?" asked Ted.
"A nautical weapon! It's got a pointy end and a rope attached to it, to reel in the kill!"
"Oh, we don't have one then," said Ted.
"Arr! This be bad luck boys! We'll have to go without dinner!"
"Very bad!" shouted the boys.
As Tom and his crew of fearsome pirates sailed to Jamaica, Tom's dog watched from the base of the tree. Whenever he saw Tom's face over the railing, he would stand up and bark. Being a dog, he didn't care about their game, but he did want to play with Tom.
"Hello puppy," said Lily, Tom's younger sister. She patted his head and scratched his ears. "Do you want to play too?"
He wagged his tail and barked affirmatively.
Lily laughed. "Maybe we can play together."
"AHOY CAP'N!" shouted a voice from above. "THERE BE A MONSTER WITH THE SHARK!"
Tom leaned over the rail to see.
"We want to play too, Tom!" shouted Lily to her brother.
He frowned as shouts of "NO GIRLS!" and "She'll just want to dress up and have tea!" and "She'll take over the ship and turn it into a love boat or something, like my sister always does!" and "Girls can't be pirates!" peppered his ears. Tom liked playing with his sister, but he was worried the boys would leave if he invited her up.
He had an idea. "Mermaid off the port bow!" he shouted. "The sea gods be smilin' on us today!"
"Why, Cap'n?" asked Jim.
"Why? Every sailor knows a mermaid brings good luck! Lower the dingy and bring her and the shark up! No one would dare stop us with them aboard!"
The boys hesitated only for a moment, and lowered the lift for Lily and the dog.
Elizabeth Williamson Copyright © 2008
All the boys were sporting various hats and eye patches, some made of paper, some made of cloth. They were also wearing the raggiest clothes they could find. Poor Daniel stood out like a sore thumb. His mother never let his clothes get ragged, despite his protests.
"Where we be sailin' to this mornin' cap'n?" asked first mate Johnny.
"We be sailin' to Jamaica! There be a village to pillage! Let's shove off!"
"Aye Cap'n!" shouted the boys.
Tom's dog, having seen Tom, jumped up and barked.
"Cap'n! There be a dog shark off the port bow!" shouted lookout Steve.
"We'll harpoon it, and have it for dinner!"
"Dinner!" shouted the boys.
"Uh, Cap'n? What's a harpoon?" asked Ted.
"A nautical weapon! It's got a pointy end and a rope attached to it, to reel in the kill!"
"Oh, we don't have one then," said Ted.
"Arr! This be bad luck boys! We'll have to go without dinner!"
"Very bad!" shouted the boys.
As Tom and his crew of fearsome pirates sailed to Jamaica, Tom's dog watched from the base of the tree. Whenever he saw Tom's face over the railing, he would stand up and bark. Being a dog, he didn't care about their game, but he did want to play with Tom.
"Hello puppy," said Lily, Tom's younger sister. She patted his head and scratched his ears. "Do you want to play too?"
He wagged his tail and barked affirmatively.
Lily laughed. "Maybe we can play together."
"AHOY CAP'N!" shouted a voice from above. "THERE BE A MONSTER WITH THE SHARK!"
Tom leaned over the rail to see.
"We want to play too, Tom!" shouted Lily to her brother.
He frowned as shouts of "NO GIRLS!" and "She'll just want to dress up and have tea!" and "She'll take over the ship and turn it into a love boat or something, like my sister always does!" and "Girls can't be pirates!" peppered his ears. Tom liked playing with his sister, but he was worried the boys would leave if he invited her up.
He had an idea. "Mermaid off the port bow!" he shouted. "The sea gods be smilin' on us today!"
"Why, Cap'n?" asked Jim.
"Why? Every sailor knows a mermaid brings good luck! Lower the dingy and bring her and the shark up! No one would dare stop us with them aboard!"
The boys hesitated only for a moment, and lowered the lift for Lily and the dog.
Elizabeth Williamson Copyright © 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
When I Was a Young Girl: Reminiscences of Childhood
topic: a child, a dog, a message for children
I have fond memories of my grandparents. They were wonderful people, who were honest and true, and loving and kind. My parents were a lot like my grandparents, and I had a happy childhood. Well, there were spankings and scoldings which I did not like; nevertheless it was a very kind and loving environment, for us and our relatives and our friends. My brother, William (older than I), we called “Billy.”
When I was very young, my brother Billy got a dog that was part German Shepard, part “spits” (that meant mixed, and no one was sure what kind of mix). Billy named him Pepsi. Pepsi had German Shepard markings, mostly black. His face and head had short hair, black with brown and white markings, and was soft to pet. I loved to pet his head and ears. He, on the other hand, loved to have his neck scratched; most dogs do. The rest of his hair was medium length, like a German Shepard, mostly black, with a little brown and white on his legs and paws. His tail was black with a white tip at the end, and curved up over his back. The long hair on his tail stood up on the top side and looked like a fan.
Back in those days, a dog could be outside and go anywhere, without being fenced in or on a rope or leash. Pepsi liked to be outside. He kept the yard clean. He did not let other dogs come in our yard. Billy liked to play with him. Sometimes they would play ball or fetch the stick.
In the summertime, our family would go to the beach at the lake, and Pepsi would go with us. He was part of the family, playing on the sandy beach, swimming in the lake. Our cousins from the big city would come visit, and go to the lake, too. We spent some cool time on hot days at the beach; where else could you get cooled off? No one had air conditioners then.
My parents got us children two kittens, one for me and one for Billy. I mostly “loved” kittens. Billy had a gray and black tiger, and I had a black kitten with white whiskers, paws, and the tip of its tail. Pepsi was gentle with cats and kittens. They would sometimes take a daytime snooze together. My kitten was outside in the yard while I was supposedly "watching" him; he ran away and was lost. Billy’s cat, Gus, grew up and was a good cat and a good mouser. He would always lay there and let you pet him. His fur was soft, and I liked to pet him. Billy taught his cat to keep his feet warm on cold winter nights.
Pepsi liked being under the dining room table while we were eating, waiting for any food that got dropped. He kept the carpet very clean of food. If I had food I didn’t like, I would “accidently drop” some of it under the table. I think Billy shared whatever. My mother would give him scraps that were hard to chew or fat trimmings, at the table.
“You aren’t going to eat that? I’ll give it to the dog. Here, Pepsi!”
Pepsi came right there and caught the food in his mouth. He was Billy’s dog, but mostly he was my mother’s dog. She groomed him, took him to the vet when needed, and always remembered to feed him when others forgot.
Pepsi loved to chase cars. He got hit by a car on two different occasions, and got up and walked away. He still chased cars.
When Pepsi got older, he got fat. My mother decided to change his dog food to a different kind and stop giving him table scraps. It seems to me as I recall, “other” family members would still sneak him scraps at the table. When we children were older (still in school), Mother started working at our Uncle Bud’s store. Pepsi learned to like to sleep on the couch when everyone was gone. My mom would come home from the store and, when Pepsi heard the door opening, he would hop off the couch. My mother would hear him getting off the couch! One time, she came in quietly and she saw him on the couch! He would not get off. As hard as she tried, he stayed right there. She tried to MOVE him, but he would not budge. After that occasion, she made sure he heard the door.
He was a faithful dog, except when he would disappear during the season the dogs were “running.” I think twice, Pepsi came home smelling like a skunk. The last time he did, my mother told him to go away until he didn’t smell like a skunk! He went away, came back later very dirty, and NOT smelling like a skunk at all.
. During his dog life, Pepsi was there when Billy and I grew to teens, and Bill (no longer “Billy”) went to college. Through our growing-up years, whether we liked him or whether we were annoyed with him, there was the family dog, Pepsi.
Mary Alice Williamson © Copyright 2008
I have fond memories of my grandparents. They were wonderful people, who were honest and true, and loving and kind. My parents were a lot like my grandparents, and I had a happy childhood. Well, there were spankings and scoldings which I did not like; nevertheless it was a very kind and loving environment, for us and our relatives and our friends. My brother, William (older than I), we called “Billy.”
When I was very young, my brother Billy got a dog that was part German Shepard, part “spits” (that meant mixed, and no one was sure what kind of mix). Billy named him Pepsi. Pepsi had German Shepard markings, mostly black. His face and head had short hair, black with brown and white markings, and was soft to pet. I loved to pet his head and ears. He, on the other hand, loved to have his neck scratched; most dogs do. The rest of his hair was medium length, like a German Shepard, mostly black, with a little brown and white on his legs and paws. His tail was black with a white tip at the end, and curved up over his back. The long hair on his tail stood up on the top side and looked like a fan.
Back in those days, a dog could be outside and go anywhere, without being fenced in or on a rope or leash. Pepsi liked to be outside. He kept the yard clean. He did not let other dogs come in our yard. Billy liked to play with him. Sometimes they would play ball or fetch the stick.
In the summertime, our family would go to the beach at the lake, and Pepsi would go with us. He was part of the family, playing on the sandy beach, swimming in the lake. Our cousins from the big city would come visit, and go to the lake, too. We spent some cool time on hot days at the beach; where else could you get cooled off? No one had air conditioners then.
My parents got us children two kittens, one for me and one for Billy. I mostly “loved” kittens. Billy had a gray and black tiger, and I had a black kitten with white whiskers, paws, and the tip of its tail. Pepsi was gentle with cats and kittens. They would sometimes take a daytime snooze together. My kitten was outside in the yard while I was supposedly "watching" him; he ran away and was lost. Billy’s cat, Gus, grew up and was a good cat and a good mouser. He would always lay there and let you pet him. His fur was soft, and I liked to pet him. Billy taught his cat to keep his feet warm on cold winter nights.
Pepsi liked being under the dining room table while we were eating, waiting for any food that got dropped. He kept the carpet very clean of food. If I had food I didn’t like, I would “accidently drop” some of it under the table. I think Billy shared whatever. My mother would give him scraps that were hard to chew or fat trimmings, at the table.
“You aren’t going to eat that? I’ll give it to the dog. Here, Pepsi!”
Pepsi came right there and caught the food in his mouth. He was Billy’s dog, but mostly he was my mother’s dog. She groomed him, took him to the vet when needed, and always remembered to feed him when others forgot.
Pepsi loved to chase cars. He got hit by a car on two different occasions, and got up and walked away. He still chased cars.
When Pepsi got older, he got fat. My mother decided to change his dog food to a different kind and stop giving him table scraps. It seems to me as I recall, “other” family members would still sneak him scraps at the table. When we children were older (still in school), Mother started working at our Uncle Bud’s store. Pepsi learned to like to sleep on the couch when everyone was gone. My mom would come home from the store and, when Pepsi heard the door opening, he would hop off the couch. My mother would hear him getting off the couch! One time, she came in quietly and she saw him on the couch! He would not get off. As hard as she tried, he stayed right there. She tried to MOVE him, but he would not budge. After that occasion, she made sure he heard the door.
He was a faithful dog, except when he would disappear during the season the dogs were “running.” I think twice, Pepsi came home smelling like a skunk. The last time he did, my mother told him to go away until he didn’t smell like a skunk! He went away, came back later very dirty, and NOT smelling like a skunk at all.
. During his dog life, Pepsi was there when Billy and I grew to teens, and Bill (no longer “Billy”) went to college. Through our growing-up years, whether we liked him or whether we were annoyed with him, there was the family dog, Pepsi.
Mary Alice Williamson © Copyright 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
'Wish'
Ken Chandler
Copyright © 2008
A Boy and his Dog
'Wish'
This story is dedicated to Mary Alice Williamson (who inspired it).
A cool breeze played over the grassy knoll where I sat watching my dog, Charlie, barking and darting through the tall grass below. A dozen Pheasant exploded into the air, Charlie leaped after them snapping at their tail feathers. Another lap around the grassy field produced another two-dozen frenzied pheasant flying for dog free pastures. I smiled, knowing that if Charlie ever caught one of them he wouldn’t know what to do with it. Then, except for the distant sound of pheasant flying away, all was quiet. I looked around for where Charlie had been playing and only saw tall grass bowing in waves across the length of the field. I stood and looked around to see if I could find see him, but couldn’t. “Charlie!” I shouted. “Charlie! C’mere boy. C’mon!” I made several loud kissing noises, a sound he would recognize as a call to return to me. Nothing.
“Charlie!” I called again straining to see any flash of black, brown or white from his coat. Still nothing caught my eye. Then a growl, barely audible over the shushing of grass, then I saw a flash of Charlie’s fur in the sea of green.
I sprinted down the hill to the spot where I’d seen him, but when I got to the spot he was no longer there. I stopped and listened, hoping my ears would catch… there! I darted to my right to see another flash of black and white against green, then he was gone again. A whimper to my left made me turn violently to see Charlie roll into view with something brown and dark red clinging to him. Charlie rolled several times, jaws snapped, he rolled again, but the thing wouldn’t let go. I jumped down beside Charlie and snatched at the thing, but Charlie twisted violently and I missed. “Hold still Charlie!” I scolded, “I’m trying to help.” I made another grab for the thing but only got a handful of Charlie’s course fur. He yelped, but I didn’t let go. With my free hand I lashed out again, and this time my hand connected with the thing. The moment I got a hold on it, it let go of Charlie and dangled limply in my hand.
For the first time I got a look at the thing, repulsed I almost let go. Fear that it might jump on Charlie’s back again, or grab my leg, forced me to hold it more tightly. The lumpy brown thing didn’t resist, but looked at me with angry tiny green eyes over its too long nose. It was nearly bald, and had a wide frowning mouth. Its arms, each, nearly as long as its entire body, were lean and strong looking. At the end of each of his leathery arms was a thin hand covered with a dozen short thin gnarly fingers. That explained how he was able to hold onto Charlie while he was thrashing around like he did. It had a round body that was covered with a maroon vest, buttoned in the front, none of the buttons matched. It also wore a pair of alternating brown and green striped pants that were roughly sewn together with heavy thread. His legs were short and thick. It appeared that he only had three toes, a thick dirty nail extended from the end of each of his toes. He stood roughly 9 inches tall, but was amazingly light for his size.
“Wha’dyus want?” It said, it’s voice was low and rumbled from deep within its body.
“What?” I said, nearly dropping it again in my astonishment.
“Same thing every time…,” It muttered something else that I didn’t catch. When it spoke again, it sounded angry. It gestured as it spoke. “Yous get one wishes,” It shot a single finger into the air. “whatever it is yous wants within reason. So c’mon, gits it over with.” He folded his arms across his chest and scowled venomously at me.
“Uh…,” I started.
“One wish!” it bellowed.
“Can I put you down, and you won’t run away, or jump on my dog again?” I asked.
“Is that your wish,” he asked abruptly, his expression unchanged.
“Er… no! No, I just wanted to know if…”
“No!” it snapped.
“Huh?”
He rocked his head back and forth, exaggerating his words. “No, I won’t runs away. Though abouts your dog...” His voice trailed off as he looked hungrily at Charlie, who whimpered and shuffled backwards into the deep grass. In a few moments all I could see was his nose and two dark eyes peering low through the grass.
“You can’t do anything to Charlie.” I was scared of this creepy little thing, but I didn’t like the way he was eyeing my dog.
As if I’d given him a command that he must obey he shrugged, and muttered something indistinct again.
“Okay?” I asked again, giving him a serious look.
“Okays,” He mumbled.
Slowly, I lowered him to the ground, and reluctantly released my grip. To my great relief he didn’t move. He just stood with his shoulders hunched, looking grumpy, and glared at me with those penetrating green eyes, his hands still folded across his chest.
“So, what was this about a wish? You said something about a wish,” I said.
“One wishes, mind. You only gets one,” He jabbed the finger into the air in front of him again.
“One wish?” I questioned. “That’s not fair. One wish.” I sighed.
“I don’t makes the rules,” He growled. “And makes it quickly, I ‘aven’t gots all days.”
“Yeah, okay,” I waved a hand toward him, shutting him up. “One wish,” I thought for a moment. “Okay, I’ve got it! I want you to make my dog talk, in English," I emphasized, "so I can understand him.”
“Nopes.” He said quickly.
“What? No!” I said, outraged. “Why not?”
“I don’t makes the rules, nows do I? There are powerful forces at works here, and they demands that there will be no talking animalses.”
“But…” I started.
“No butses.” He cut me off. “Thems the ruleses.”
“Yeah. Well then just forget it!” I said turning my back on the creature and stalked away.
“But yous gotta makes a wishes!” he said. “I am duty bound to gives you the wishes of your hearts.”
"Probably wouldn't work anyway!" I shouted over my shoulder still walking. Charlie trotted up beside me, his body slung low, his tail tucked between his legs, and not making a sound. On the long walk home I noticed that Charlie kept looking back behind us than trotting ahead, slowing just enough to let me catch up. And every now and then I could hear a grumbling voice muttering something that I couldn’t make out.
That was twenty years ago. And every so often I get the impression that I’m being followed, or that I’m not alone in an empty room. And on windy nights as a lie awake, I can sometimes hear a low voice carried over the breeze that I think is saying, “No talking animalses.”
Copyright © 2008
A Boy and his Dog
'Wish'
This story is dedicated to Mary Alice Williamson (who inspired it).
A cool breeze played over the grassy knoll where I sat watching my dog, Charlie, barking and darting through the tall grass below. A dozen Pheasant exploded into the air, Charlie leaped after them snapping at their tail feathers. Another lap around the grassy field produced another two-dozen frenzied pheasant flying for dog free pastures. I smiled, knowing that if Charlie ever caught one of them he wouldn’t know what to do with it. Then, except for the distant sound of pheasant flying away, all was quiet. I looked around for where Charlie had been playing and only saw tall grass bowing in waves across the length of the field. I stood and looked around to see if I could find see him, but couldn’t. “Charlie!” I shouted. “Charlie! C’mere boy. C’mon!” I made several loud kissing noises, a sound he would recognize as a call to return to me. Nothing.
“Charlie!” I called again straining to see any flash of black, brown or white from his coat. Still nothing caught my eye. Then a growl, barely audible over the shushing of grass, then I saw a flash of Charlie’s fur in the sea of green.
I sprinted down the hill to the spot where I’d seen him, but when I got to the spot he was no longer there. I stopped and listened, hoping my ears would catch… there! I darted to my right to see another flash of black and white against green, then he was gone again. A whimper to my left made me turn violently to see Charlie roll into view with something brown and dark red clinging to him. Charlie rolled several times, jaws snapped, he rolled again, but the thing wouldn’t let go. I jumped down beside Charlie and snatched at the thing, but Charlie twisted violently and I missed. “Hold still Charlie!” I scolded, “I’m trying to help.” I made another grab for the thing but only got a handful of Charlie’s course fur. He yelped, but I didn’t let go. With my free hand I lashed out again, and this time my hand connected with the thing. The moment I got a hold on it, it let go of Charlie and dangled limply in my hand.
For the first time I got a look at the thing, repulsed I almost let go. Fear that it might jump on Charlie’s back again, or grab my leg, forced me to hold it more tightly. The lumpy brown thing didn’t resist, but looked at me with angry tiny green eyes over its too long nose. It was nearly bald, and had a wide frowning mouth. Its arms, each, nearly as long as its entire body, were lean and strong looking. At the end of each of his leathery arms was a thin hand covered with a dozen short thin gnarly fingers. That explained how he was able to hold onto Charlie while he was thrashing around like he did. It had a round body that was covered with a maroon vest, buttoned in the front, none of the buttons matched. It also wore a pair of alternating brown and green striped pants that were roughly sewn together with heavy thread. His legs were short and thick. It appeared that he only had three toes, a thick dirty nail extended from the end of each of his toes. He stood roughly 9 inches tall, but was amazingly light for his size.
“Wha’dyus want?” It said, it’s voice was low and rumbled from deep within its body.
“What?” I said, nearly dropping it again in my astonishment.
“Same thing every time…,” It muttered something else that I didn’t catch. When it spoke again, it sounded angry. It gestured as it spoke. “Yous get one wishes,” It shot a single finger into the air. “whatever it is yous wants within reason. So c’mon, gits it over with.” He folded his arms across his chest and scowled venomously at me.
“Uh…,” I started.
“One wish!” it bellowed.
“Can I put you down, and you won’t run away, or jump on my dog again?” I asked.
“Is that your wish,” he asked abruptly, his expression unchanged.
“Er… no! No, I just wanted to know if…”
“No!” it snapped.
“Huh?”
He rocked his head back and forth, exaggerating his words. “No, I won’t runs away. Though abouts your dog...” His voice trailed off as he looked hungrily at Charlie, who whimpered and shuffled backwards into the deep grass. In a few moments all I could see was his nose and two dark eyes peering low through the grass.
“You can’t do anything to Charlie.” I was scared of this creepy little thing, but I didn’t like the way he was eyeing my dog.
As if I’d given him a command that he must obey he shrugged, and muttered something indistinct again.
“Okay?” I asked again, giving him a serious look.
“Okays,” He mumbled.
Slowly, I lowered him to the ground, and reluctantly released my grip. To my great relief he didn’t move. He just stood with his shoulders hunched, looking grumpy, and glared at me with those penetrating green eyes, his hands still folded across his chest.
“So, what was this about a wish? You said something about a wish,” I said.
“One wishes, mind. You only gets one,” He jabbed the finger into the air in front of him again.
“One wish?” I questioned. “That’s not fair. One wish.” I sighed.
“I don’t makes the rules,” He growled. “And makes it quickly, I ‘aven’t gots all days.”
“Yeah, okay,” I waved a hand toward him, shutting him up. “One wish,” I thought for a moment. “Okay, I’ve got it! I want you to make my dog talk, in English," I emphasized, "so I can understand him.”
“Nopes.” He said quickly.
“What? No!” I said, outraged. “Why not?”
“I don’t makes the rules, nows do I? There are powerful forces at works here, and they demands that there will be no talking animalses.”
“But…” I started.
“No butses.” He cut me off. “Thems the ruleses.”
“Yeah. Well then just forget it!” I said turning my back on the creature and stalked away.
“But yous gotta makes a wishes!” he said. “I am duty bound to gives you the wishes of your hearts.”
"Probably wouldn't work anyway!" I shouted over my shoulder still walking. Charlie trotted up beside me, his body slung low, his tail tucked between his legs, and not making a sound. On the long walk home I noticed that Charlie kept looking back behind us than trotting ahead, slowing just enough to let me catch up. And every now and then I could hear a grumbling voice muttering something that I couldn’t make out.
That was twenty years ago. And every so often I get the impression that I’m being followed, or that I’m not alone in an empty room. And on windy nights as a lie awake, I can sometimes hear a low voice carried over the breeze that I think is saying, “No talking animalses.”
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
TOPIC: Dog and Child
the subject: something for children to read, with a message, and with a dog and a child (no talking animals).
M A W
M A W
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