“Ouch! Hey, watch where you’re goin’!”
“Ah…sorry…I didn’t mean to…”
“Ow! Ya got me again…what’s up with you?”
“Sorry…again…I’m tryin’ to keep my quills as flat as I can…oh my.”
Little Pauly Porcupine moved as close as he could to the carpeted wall to let the other animals pass by. It was Saturday and the ANIMALL was very crowded.
“I guess I should just stay home until I grow up more and get better control of my quills…but I DO like to be out and about especially at the Mall.”
Then as the crowd of possums, raccoons and turtles went past and there was a clear space around Pauly, he tried to step away from the wall and back into the walkway, but he couldn’t! He was stuck to the bright blue (his favorite color) wall…like…well…like velcro!
Pauly tugged and pulled trying to free himself from the thick carpeting but he was surely stuck! And the more Pauly wiggled and twisted the more stuck he became.
“Why DO they carpet walls anyway…that’s so dumb…only lizards walk on walls and they don’t even need carpets.” Pauly tried and tried but he couldn’t budge.
Then Mr. Rabbit came by…”Oh, Mr. Rabbit, can you help me…I seem to be stuck here?”
“Ah…well…yeah sure…but where do I put my paws…I mean…you’ve got all those pointy sharp needles and all…ah…sorry…I’d really LIKE to help…really!” And Mr. Bunny hopped on into the ANIMALL looking back at Pauly and shaking his head.
Then Miss Goat came up to Pauly. “Are you stuck there?”
“Oh yes…yes I am…VERY stuck, can you help pull me off of this wall…pleeeaaaase!”
“Well…I’ve only got these hoofs and I can’t grip and well…I just came from the manicurist and my nails are still wet…sorry.”
And Miss Goat clomped off into the mall not even looking back.
“Oh my…what am I to do?” moaned Pauly.
Then four crows came swaggering past Pauly. “Hey look at dat…dat dere is a livin’ sculpture…man dis mall’s got everythin’ dats why I love comin’ here right guys?”
“Yeah dats a good one Boss! Hah!” And the crows waddled on past Pauly cackling and chirping to themselves and pointing back at him with their wings.
“Oh I’ll NEVER get off this wall!” moaned Pauly.
Then, in the distance Pauly spotted a small round creature that looked very similar to Pauly…and as the animal got closer Pauly’s face brightened with a smile because headed exactly in his direction was a…porcupine!
Pauly started calling out…”Hey…ah Hi…ah…got a little problem here!”
As the stranger neared Pauly he said…”Yeah…I see…got too close to the wall huh?”
“Yeah…kinda…could you help me please?”
“Sure kid…I don’t know why they carpet walls anyhow…saves on paint I guess.”
“Yeah…gee thanks a lot…none of the other animals could or would help me…but I guess you know that …being a porcupine yourself and all.”
“Yeah…I’m used to it…Ya gotta be a loner…well except for your family of course.”
Then the stranger grabbed Pauly by the rear legs, twisted and turned and as Pauly’s back came free, the stranger lifted and twisted again and Pauly popped free of the wall!
“Oh…thank you Mister…” said Pauly counting to see if he’d lost any quills in the carpet.
“No problem…just stay away from carpeted walls…and well…other animals…people…well…you know! Why don’t you walk in the mall with me and we’ll clear out a few crowds?”
“I guess if you’re lucky enough to be born a porcupine there ARE certain advantages.”
“Yeah Kid that’s the way you gotta look at it…all us animals are created for a certain purpose and sometimes we can’t figure out why but we have to make the most of what we’ve got and just be happy with who we are…oh and we’ve also gotta stay away from carpeted walls!”
Archive for category Uncategorized
THE PORCUPINE by Russ McKay
Aug 10
PALS by Russ McKay
Jul 24
Reginald Jarvis Winslow IV or “Pokey” as he was known to his fifth grade classmates and even his teachers, was walking along the north trail at the ranch, kinda looking at the fences to make sure that there were no breaks. That was very important to Dad and Grandpa Jarvis but Pokey didn’t know what all the fuss was about. It was just a “stupid fence” but boundaries were vital to the protection of the land and to raising young ranch hands in Eastern Texas. At least it seemed to be important to Dad and Grandpa.
He had ridden out there on “Miss Almy” the old nag that was Grandma’s favorite riding horse back when she was the “Lady” of the ranch. But she had died when Pokey was two and he really couldn’t remember her, but there were pictures showing him smiling and sitting on her knee. It was getting late and he was about to mount up and head back when…”Pssst…hey kid!”
Pokey wasn’t sure he’d actually heard a voice with the wind coming up and all and there didn’t appear to be anyone else out there in the dusty scrub of weeds and, well, there couldn’t be! It was his family’s land and had been for generations and the next ranch was clear over the horizon.
“KID…here…over here!” Pokey wiped his eyes and there in the afternoon glare he could just make out a shadowy figure of…was it…a….wolf?
“Yeah…it’s me talkin’ atcha kid…what’s your name?”
“Ah…what….oh….Reginal…ah Pokey…but wait…you’re a…wolf…aren’t you?”
“Ha…naw…No wolf…ha…I guess I’m what you’d call a coyote!” “A coyote! But …you coyote’s…can’t talk….and….”
“Well I can and I’m talkin’ to you! It’s a long story kid don’t make me go into it now…anyway…look, I’m gettin’ kinda hungry. You all don’t leave much around here to eat.”
“Coyotes are …not nice…I mean Dad says…”
“LISTEN…I’m…well, different! I guess you can tell that huh?” “What do you want?” “Food kid…I told ya…ah…Pokey…dumb name…where did ya get that one?”
“Long story…I don’t wanna go into it just now!”
“Hey I like you kid…you got spunk! Most kids would be screamin’ runnin’ home needin’ a pants change!”
“You don’t scare me none…well not much.” “You like lamb kid?”
“Is that like mutton?”
“IT’S NUTTIN’ like mutton…lamb is…well different…tender and juicy and…gosh now I’m REALLY gettin’ hungry! It’s sheep kid…you got any sheep on this farm?”
“No…and it’s a ranch. We got horses and cattle and pigs and chickens…and…”
“CHICKENS! Yeah…chickens is nice!”
“Chickens ARE nice.”
“That’s what I said. Can you get me one…or…a…maybe two?”
“You mean like live and cluckin’?”
“I mean cluckin…frozen, fried…Chick-Fil-A…anyway you can get ‘um!”
“I can’t be feedin’ you…Dad says…”
“Look kid…I’m starvin’…you ever starve…naw I guess you haven’t…you got it good…I seen ya…”
“You SAW me…”
“That’s what I said…you repeat everythin’?”
“I’m just correcting your English…ah….coyote.”
“Well stop it! English Spanish…what’s it matter…I’m starvin’ here!”
“Ah…it’s gettin’ late…I gotta go or Dad…will come lookin’ for me….ooohhh..where’s Miss Almy?”
“I…ah…guess she got spooked….I’m not real popular in the animal world…but I’m workin’ on it.”
“Crap! I gotta walk all the way back to the house now.”
“Heck kid it’s only a quarter mile or so…you soft or somethin’?”
“I’d rather ride back…I hope she’s back at the barn. Dad would have my hide if…”
“She’ll be back there….horses are too domesticated for my tastes…she’ll be there.”
“Chickens ain’t to domesticated for your tastes though huh?”
“Hey kid…you got a sense of humor…I like that…BUT I’M STARVIN’!!! GET IT???”
“I’m gonna be in big trouble if I get caught!”
“Yeah…and I’m gonna be in bigger trouble if I don’t eat!”
“OK…OK…I’ll see what I can do…I’ll check the freezer…but I can’t bring stuff all the way back out here!”
“Look kid…it’s against my better judgment…but I’ll sneak down back of the barn and you leave the grub out on the northeast corner and I’ll get it. I shouldn’t be doin’ this… I KNOW it…but I gotta take a chance now.”
“OK…but I shouldn’t do a thing for you for scarin’ Miss Almy.”
“Yeah…well…get goin’ you got some walkin’ to do.”
Pokey turned and, head hung low, began the long trek back to the ranch house. After a few steps he turned back to see if the coyote was still there.
“Pick it up kid…get it goin’!” Pokey walked a bit faster, not much…but enough to notice. He still wasn’t sure the coyote wouldn’t decide that fifth graders might taste just as good as chicken! He finally arrived back home, his father standing in the doorway.
“Where you been son? Almy’s been here for ten minutes…we got worried…I was just about to mount up and go out lookin’ for you!”
“I…ah…got off her to check on the fence…and….she…got spooked by a …somethin’ I guess, and ran off.”
“Well, tie her up when you dismount next time. You’d better wash up for dinner…we’re havin’ chicken!”
Dinner was uneventful as usual. Pokey’s Dad and Grandpa Jarvis talked about a tainted ground beef recall and whether or not the price of feed corn was going to rise due to “this ethanol craze”. Pokey’s mom had gone into town and shopped for ‘Unmentionables” whatever they were. Pokey didn’t find out ’cause his mom didn’t mention what they were. Parents could be really dumb sometimes he thought. At the end of the meal…”Mom…is there any…chicken left over?”
“Yes Reggie…two pieces…why…you’re not still hungry are you?”
“No but I thought I might like a…snack later…in my room…or somethin'” His mother looked at him over her half glasses and shook her head.
“I guess growin’ boys need fuel…huh? I’ll leave them in the fridge…you can get ’em later.”
“Thanks mom.”
Pokey left the dining room as his dad and grandpa went into the den and turned on the news. His mom was cleaning up in the kitchen as Pokey left by the back door and walked over to the barn. The chickens were fluttering around and the horses seemed restless, bobbing their heads over the stall gates and swinging them from side to side. “That coyote!” Pokey thought. He walked around to the northeast corner but there was no coyote, then as he turned to walk back…
“Hey…where’s the grub?”
“You weren’t here a second ago….”
“WHERE’S THEM CHICKENS kid…ah…Pokey? HUH?”
“I have to wait a bit yet…mom’s still in the kitchen.”
“I can’t stay here all night you know! Those domesticated critters you love so much are gettin’ antsy!”
“Yeah…I’ll go look…but if the animals make too much fuss dad will be out here…and…he’s got a shotgun…a Purdy!”
“OH…I bet it’s pretty all right…just lovely I bet….I’M STARVIN’!”
“OK…OK….hold your…ah…fur on or somethin’…I’ll be right back. Stay downwind or whatever will ya?”
“I AM downwind dope…that’s why I picked the northeast corner…GO!!!”
Pokey snuck around and looked into the kitchen window. His mom had left the room and the overhead light was off. He crept in and got the chicken out of the fridge and took it back out to the coyote. “HERE…HAPPY?”
The coyote pounced on the chicken and ate quickly and agressively as if he had just caught the chicken parts himself although Pokey figured that they usually weren’t battered and fried golden brown like these were. “Well…BATTERED…maybe” he thought with a smile.”You’re welcome!!!” The coyote kept eating. “You are VERY welcome!” “Yeah…OK….thanks…I’m still hungry though. But maybe not quite as much.”
“You’d better go…if dad….”
” I know…I know…” And the coyote’s tail was the last thing Pokey saw as the agile animal sped away.
The next day after school, Pokey went up to the fence where he had met the coyote. Miss Almy seemed a bit tentative as they neared the spot where she’d spooked the day before. Pokey got off and tied the horse to the fence rail. Miss Almy tugged a bit at the reins and gave a wide eyed stare to the fence leaning her body back toward the direction of the barn, but finally settled down and busied herself eating some sage grass as Pokey looked around for his coyote.
He waited for a half hour or so and still no sign of…whatever his name was. Probably coyotes didn’t have or even NEED names but Pokey thought he may as well give him one. As he was thinking, Miss Almy suddenly reared up and whinnied loudly, pulling at the reins trying to break free.
“That’s some scardy cat horse you got there Pokey boy!” Pokey tried to calm the horse down and stroked her neck and turned her away from the view of the fence. “She’s not the sharpest pitchfork in the barn eh Pokey?”
“Listen she’s just acting naturally. It’s her instinct…she also spooks at snakes.”
“Yeah…hate snakes myself…too chewy…and they’re dang hard to catch too! What’s for dinner tonight boy?”
“I can’t get you more food…my parents would surely suspect somethin'”
“How about those table scraps…what happens to them?”
“I…guess mom throws them in the trash…or maybe that mulch pile we got.”
“Why don’t you…let me think now….ah…help your mom after dinner and clean off the table for her?”
“Wow! She’d REALLY suspect somethin’ then! But…maybe I could ask for a raise in my allowance and offer to do another chore.”
“Worth tryin’ kid…worth tryin’!”
“But wait a second…you’re a coyote…you hunt for food and live in the wild…why do I have to feed you like a…well…a dog?”
“Oh that was cold…that hurt Pokey boy. You see I’m not really from around here…I’m more from the north and west of here…more hill country don’t cha know! And there just ain’t a lot of wild game over here like there was back where I came from.” Then…under his breath he said…”no sheep either.”
“I’d better get back before Miss Almy dies of fright!”
“See ya same time same place after dinner.”
“I’ll try…I’ll try. By the way….what’s your name?”
“Don’t have ’em…don’t need ’em. Those wolves they sorta got names…travelin’ in packs…Alpha Male the leader and then the others down to the whippin’ boy…but me I travel alone…my own Boss.”
“Good…see you later “Boss!”
As the boy rode off…”That kid’s got a future…I’m startin’ to like the little guy…must be the food.” And the coyote turned and walked the fence line laying low and staying in the shadows.
Amazingly, Pokey’s mom bought the whole “allowance added job scheme” hook line and sinker much to Pokey’s relief. After all, he WAS dealing with a predator much larger and far stronger than himself with a mighty set of jaws and sharp teeth that just ripped through those chicken bones like they were twigs. But there was something about Boss that was kinda like a pal, a buddy which Pokey didn’t really have, except for a couple of guys at school, but they lived miles up the road.
That night and for a few nights following Pokey secreted leftovers and table scraps out to Boss, although one night the coyote did complain about the family eating all the chicken fried steak so that there were no leftovers.”No more VEGETARIAN nights boy…OK?”
Then one evening after dark and after Pokey’s catering services were completed his Dad was sitting with Grandpa Jarvis in the den and what he said made Pokey freeze stiff!
“Jody Sanders up the way says he saw a coyote runnin’ along his pasture road last night. It was a full moon and he just spotted his outline but Ole Jody knows coyotes. I suppose he’d shot a few around that henhouse of his.”
“Yeah well, those tree huggers made it illegal didn’t they…can’t do that now!”
Pokey’s grandpa said. “Oh HA…just shoot ’em and throw ’em out on the road. That’s what ranchers are doin’ now…can’t ever prove nothin’ that way Pop!”
“Yeah…I guess you’re right. Those coyotes are mean…I don’t see any good in ’em anyhow!”
“You know they are actually puttin’ coyotes back into the national parks, actually bringin’ them in and lettin’ them loose. Balance of nature or some such lame excuse.”
“Yeah…first they unbalance it then they got to balance it again…and it’s us taxpayers that are the ones sufferin'” Pokey slipped out of the den and up the stair to his room, shut the door and laid on his bed…and cried.
The next day Pokey walked up to the fence line and waited and called out to “Boss’ but when it got dark and close to dinner time he went back down to the house. That night Boss never showed for “dinner” so Pokey just left the scraps on the ground at the corner of the barn. They were still there the next morning and Pokey gathered them up and threw them in the trash before he left for school.
Two days and nights went by and Pokey was sure something bad had happened to his pal…maybe Mr. Sanders shot him. But maybe Boss went back to Hill country. He might never know. He began to miss Boss but thought”…maybe it’s best not to ever know what really happened.”
Pokey couldn’t even tell anybody about his coyote…they’d never believe him and think he was crazy for sure! Pokey didn’t even believe it really happened himself sometimes…but…he KNEW it did!
The next day was Saturday and Pokey wandered up to the fence line and sat and just thought about when he first met the coyote and how they had talked and …well…how much Pokey missed him.
“Psssst kid…it’s me!”
“BOSS!” The coyote, limping slightly came to the fence.
“Had a bit of bad luck a few nights back.”
“Oh…Did you get shot? I wanted to warn you about Mr. Sanders…but then…”
“Naw…it was dumb…a rattler…not even a big one…kinda got me on the rump…and it really…I mean REALLY hurt for days, but finally it’s gettin’ better, but it’s still swollen and I can’t sit on that side yet.”
“Oh good…I thought you’d been shot.”
“Oh GOOD? What are you some kind of fiend or somethin’ kid?…YOU get bit by a rattler see how YOU like it!”
“Oh no Boss I don’t mean good I…mean…I thought Mr. Sanders saw you and Dad said ranchers shoot coyotes and throw them on the road even though it’s illegal.”
“Yeah well, get me a lawyer kid!”
“You gotta be careful Boss…more careful. And by the way you missed chicken fried steak last night!”
“Plenty left overs too this time I bet!” “Ah…yep!” “Well, all’s I had in three days is some chewy rattlesnake…and a small one at that!”
“Got him huh?”
“Yeah…after he got me! My bite’s worse than my bark…or howl or whatever!”
“I’m glad you’re getting better…and maybe there is some steak still left!”
“Don’t get my hopes up Kid I’ve had a tough time out here lately…and well…I’m thinking about…headin’ back.” “I…had…thought that maybe you DID leave…then I thought Mr. Sanders got you, then well…I missed you.”
“Really? Well if I weren’t hurtin’ so bad I would’ve missed you too I’m sure. And not just because of the food. And…ah….do you really think there are some steaks left?”
“I’ll meet you later OK…I’ll have something…as much as I can get OK?”
“Yeah…oh….and thanks.”
That night Boss ate two chicken fried steaks and one veal picata and was happily full though still smarting from the snake bite. Meanwhile Pokey’s mom was amazed at how her growing son was eating them out of ranch and home!
Later that evening a violent thunderstorm came up from the southwest and there were reports of funnel clouds and even a possible tornado touching down in Rado county just a few miles away. But later the winds calmed down and the rain turned into a drizzle with just an occasional flash in the sky and a far off rumble. Pokey was asleep when he heard “THE BARN!!! THE BARN’S ON FIRE!…Hurry Dad.” Pokey jumped up and an eerie orange glow was coming through his window and almost lighting his bedroom.
He grabbed his robe and ran down the main staircase to the entry hall and his Dad and Grandpa Jarvis were hurrying out of the door heading for the barn. Pokey ran behind them and as soon as he got outside he saw flames coming from the barn roof and heard the crackling of the fire and the whinnying of the horses. Dad was getting the water hose when suddenly Pokey saw “Boss” the coyote jumping at the barn door latch, knocking the left door back and springing the latch which freed the other door. Then Boss jumped again and again at the freed door pushing it until it swung fully open. Pokey’s father yelled “Look…a coyote’s tryin’ to get to the animals…go get my gun Dad while I get the hose goin’!”
“NO DAD NO….that’s Boss…he’s friendly…he’s tryin’ to help!”
“Get outta the way son…we’ll handle this…I think we might have caught it in time!” Pokey ran and pulled at his father’s arm…”NO DAD…He’s tryin’ to help us…can’t you see?”
Then Grandpa Jarvis came out of the house past Pokey’s mom with the shotgun and raised it and aimed it at the coyote.
“NO GRANDPA!!!! NO!!” When the trigger was pulled one loud blast was followed quickly by another…”GOT HIM!” Pokey snapped his head over toward Boss and saw the coyote roll over on the ground then crawl to the edge of the barn and lie on his side.
“OH NO…you shot BOSS grandpa!”
“Stay away Pokey he might not be dead, just injured and you don’t wanna go near an injured wild animal!”
“But he was just tryin’ to help Grandpa…” Pokey’s tears started running down his cheeks as he broke away from Grandpa Jarvis and ran over to Boss. The coyote’s tongue was hanging out and his eyes looked glassy and Pokey laid his head on Boss’s chest and cried. When Pokey looked up Grandpa Jarvis was standing over him and the coyote, reloading the Purdy.”Get away son…I wanna make sure to finish him off!”
“No please Grandpa…you don’t understand.” Then Boss lifted his snout slightly and licked Pokey’s cheek…twice. Just then Pokey’s Dad came over…”I got the fire stopped Dad…just the roof…must’ve been lightning…Did you get him?” Then Grandpa Jarvis lowered his gun down to his side…”Well…I’ll be!”
Pokey was petting Boss and Boss was licking Pokey’s face and hand. “I’ve never seen nothin’ like it!”
“I told you…I told you…Boss was just tryin’ to help and…you…shot him!” Pokey’s father was standing staring down at his son and the coyote, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “Don’t die…don’t die Boss!”
“Pokey…I don’t understand…I mean…how…when…this is a coyote son…”
“Boss comes to meet me everyday up at the north fence…and well..I kinda been feeding him.”
“I don’t know son…this is a wild…”
“No Dad…it’s OK….he’s from Hill country…and he can’t find food as easily here.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“I…ah…heard it at school.” Pokey’s father knelt down and looked closely at Boss who was still licking the boy’s hand.
” I think you got him on the left haunch Dad…Good shot!”
“Oh no…that’s the same place he just got bit by a rattler!” Pokey quickly realized that he shouldn’t have said that. Then his Dad put his hand tentatively on Boss and, moving the fur aside, saw two distinct fang marks and a red swollen spot near the still bleeding pellet wounds. Pokey’s father looked up at Grandpa Jarvis.
“Well I’ll be! The kid’s right! But…how did you know son…did you see it happen…the rattler get him?”
“Well, I kinda saw his wound just like you.” Pokey hated lying to his Dad…or to anyone really, but he just couldn’t tell the truth this one time. Pokey’s father stood. “I just don’t know what to do…I mean…that’s a coyote…and he’s acting like a dog!” Boss winced and rolled his eyes. “I know Boss…get used to it!” Pokey told him.
“Son…we just can’t keep a coyote..as…a pet! I mean …he’s wild…the animals…your mom…plus everyone would think we’re plumb loco!”
“But he’s different Dad…can’t you see?”
“Yeah…well…it’s strange as all get out…I’ll grant you that!”
“Can we at least get him fixed up…after all Grandpa shot him!” Pokey’s Dad and Grandpa just looked at each other.
“If either of us ever tells any of the neighbors about this…well..WE oughta be shot!”
“I’ll go get some healing creme and try to get the pellets out if you hold him down.”
“OK Dad….” Grandpa Jarvis went back to the house and told Pokey’s mom what was going on and she was nodding and Pokey heard her say…”So that’s where all the food’s been going!”
After the adults left to go to the house Pokey asked “You OK Boss?”
“OH YEAH…dandy…did he have to shoot me right on my snakebite? And it double hurts now!”
“You’ll be OK…we’ll get you better.”
Over the next week Boss slept in the old dog house that used to belong to “Fetch” the family dog that just ran away for no good reason one day and was never seen again. Pokey made a deal with his Dad that Boss would be let go, back into the “wild” as his Dad called it, after Boss had healed.
And so it was. Pokey kept meeting Boss at the fence. Mom and Dad and Grandpa Jarvis never knew that Pokey and Boss chatted…and eventually Boss headed back to Hill country where he naturally belonged and could resume being an average happy coyote and Pokey could resume being a slightly above average Texas boy.
Pokey always missed ” Boss” his whole life and guessed that Boss always missed him. How do I know for sure?…because…I’m Pokey!
(The names in this story have been changed at the request of the subject.)
She was named after her Great Great Grandmother Clarissa Gwendolyn Wells. She had three ponies, two horses, ninety one dresses, her own bedroom suite with a walk-in closet and dressing room walled with mirrors, her own cell phone and her very own credit card from Nordstroms…AND…she was the unhappiest girl that she knew. In fact, that was part of the problem for this wealthy twelve year old, she hardly knew ANYONE her own age.
Her parents were THE Well’s of Wellston, Connecticut! Great great Grandmom Clarissa and Great Great Grandad Hanniford Madison Wells built the town of Wellston to house the hundreds of employees of Wells Industries, manufacturers of the finest textiles, leather goods and notions (whatever that was) in America at the time! Her house was so big that it had intercom speakers in every room, except the bathrooms of course, of which there were eight. There was a “staff” of six serving the Wells’s every need, dressed in their own special uniforms of domestic service.
“Gwen” as she liked to be called, especially liked her Nanny Adelade who was from Leicester England which inexplicably was pronounced “Lester”. The Wells family also employed Curtis the chauffeur, Edwardo the “chef” (“He’s NOT a cook Dear!” Mother said.) and Sarah the housemaid and two gardeners Ralph and James who were brothers. “Never refer to them as “servants” Dear!” her Mom cautioned. And it always seemed as though there were workers in the house doing something or other to “Improve the place!” as Daddy would say, a bit sarcastically. But with all of those people constantly filling up her house Gwen was still a very lonely girl.
Gwen wanted to get a puppy, a Golden Retriver, but her Mom said…”Oh heavens Gwendolyn no animals in the house…go ride your horse!” And every time Gwen complained to her Mom about being lonely and needing playmates, girls her own age, her Mom said…”We’ll have some sent over from town this afternoon if you really insist!” Gwen didn’t even have schoolmates because she was “Home schooled” by professors from the University at Eastport, the next town over.
Gwen did spend time on her computer with her own “Facebook” account and would often communicate with girls her own age, but as soon as they found out how wealthy her family was they usually stopped writing on her wall. Gwen thought about inventing a different identity,that of a “normal” girl, but didn’t want to lie about everything and probably couldn’t even convince anyone anyway since she didn’t have a clue as to how “normal” girls really lived!
Gwen’s Mother would occasionally ask “Why do you ALWAYS look so sad Gwendolyn Dear? You have everything that a girl your age would ever want. So brighten up! If I would have had all the privledges that you have when I was…let’s see, how old are you….twelve?….yes twelve…well, I would have been the happiest girl in the whole world!” “Yes Mother…” Gwen would answer, smiling as widely as possible and trying to look “bright”.
Gwen even thought to herself sometimes “I DO have everything…why AM I always so unhappy?” Gwen asked her home school teachers why she was so sad, but they didn’t know. She asked Adelade and she didn’t know. She didn’t ask her Mother because Gwen already knew what she would say but when Gwen asked her Dad why she was so sad he said…”Maybe it’s because you don’t have to struggle and earn what you want. You just have to ask or buy the things you want, but no one can “Buy” happiness because that only comes from inside each of us and not from what we HAVE but who we are…how we feel.”
Gwen thought about what her Father said and then asked him…”How do I get to feel better about me?”
“Well one way is to think first about others and how to make THEM happy.”
“You mean like when we give donations to the poor at the holidays?”
“Yes…but also each and every day.”
“Gosh…I’ll try. But how do I get started?”
“You already have!” And Gwen’s Dad gave her a kiss on her forehead.
After thinking and surfing the web to analyze charities and various help and care sites she decided to begin her own charity for “Lonely Girls”.
Soon she created a Chat Room and an advice and council forum and it didn’t take long before dozens and then hundreds of young girls were communicating and discussing their problems and most importantly “giving” their time and in many cases their allowances to help poor, or sick people everywhere. Her site grew and grew and soon Gwen’s generous creation was getting worldwide recognition. And the success of her efforts had nothing to do with the fact that she had a wealthy family. But the most unusual part of all concerning the success of the efforts of Gwendolyn Wells, is that no one in the whole world knew exactly who she was, because Gwen never ever used her own name.
I’m sure you would recognize the charity that she started but in order to write this story it was promised not to divulge the true identity of that great charitable endeavor, the amazing creation of maybe the Happiest girl in the world!
PRACTICE by Russ McKay
Jul 7
“Tommy…it’s time to practice your piano lesson Dear.”
“Aww Mom…can’t I just skip today? I promise I’ll practice twice as long tomorrow.”
“I’m afraid not Tommy….you know the rules.”
“But the guys are having a great neighborhood soccer tournament…and we’ve just GOT to beat those guys from Waverly!”
“You can play AFTER your practice…it’s only for thirty minutes Tommy!”
“It’ll be too late then…AW MOM….PLEASE?”
“Sorry Dear…one day you’ll thank me for insisting that you practice your piano…you’ll see.”
Tommy hung his head and trudged off to the living room and sat down at the piano.”I hate you!” He grunted at the piano making sure not to say it too loudly because he didn’t want his Mom to hear him. Then he banged a D Major seventh chord as hard as he could!
“Ouch!”
Tommy’s eyes grew as big as saucers as he stared at the piano. Then he banged a C Minor chord and heard “Hey…take it easier please.”
“You….ah….can….t-talk?”
“I can complain when I’m struck in anger!”
Just then Tommy heard his Mom yell out to him from the kitchen…”I don’t hear those scales that you are supposed to be playing Tommy. Your thirty minutes doesn’t start until you do!”
“Ah…yes Mom.”
He began playing his practice scales and after the series of scales and chords in his routine warm up he realized that the piano hadn’t “said” another word. As Tommy progressed through his lesson he started to think that maybe he had imagined the “conversation” that had transpired with the piano. He played “Claire De Lune” for his final practice selection without one error. That had never happened before. “Maybe the piano is…helping me……Naw…that’s crazy!”
“That was beautiful Tommy…I actually had a tear in my eye listening to your playing.” Tommy’s Mom stood at the door to the kitchen smiling wider than Tommy had ever seen her smile.
“Oh great!” thought Tommy…”Now I’ll never be able to give up those stupid piano lessons!”
It was years later when Tommy was sitting in a field box in England watching Manchester United versus the Italian National team playing a crucial soccer game when a young boy came up to him.
“Sir…would you sign my autograph book please. My Mom took me to see your appearance with the London Philharmonic and we have all of your recordings…in fact….I chose to play the piano because of you.”
“Sure son…I’ll be glad to sign your book.”
After signing and watching the boy return to his seat, Tommy turned to the person sitting next to him and said “Thanks Mom!”
It was the middle of the night on a tiny farm in Placidville County and Dooley the Rooster was sleeping soundly when suddenly he awoke with a very sore throat. “I hope I’m not getting a cold” he thought to himself but since roosters can’t chew cough drops he just tried to go back to sleep hoping that he would get better before morning. After all, Dooley had his job to do as the official alarm clock of Small Town Farm. He couldn’t imagine what farmer Jones would think if Dooley didn’t crow in the dawn with his loud but scratchy “Cock A Doodle Doo”.
In fact sometimes Dooley was cock a doodle doodaling before Chester the rooster at the next farm would even be awake. Dooley heard that Chester was a bit lazy and though Dooley had never actually met Chester, the hens told Dooley that they had heard Chester wasn’t nearly as good at alarm clocking as Dooley.
But Dooley’s soreness kept getting worse and worse until when Dooley tried to clear his throat…nothing happened! No sound came out of his upturned beak…not even a whisper. “Oh My!” thought Dooley…because the sun was just inches from breaking above the Eastern horizon and his sore throat was as silent as a pile of dirt!
In two minutes the sun peaked its orange round head up over the Eastern fields and Dooley got up on the roof of the henhouse and threw back his head and opened his beak and tried as hard as he could but absolutely NO sound came out! Though Dooley tried and tried just silent air came out of his beak. Dooley attempted to Cock A Doodle Do for nearly an hour until he finally was so tired that he had to lie down on the roof shingles and he quickly fell asleep.
It was almost nine AM when Dooley woke up to the sound of farmer Jones yelling “DOOLEY…DOOLEY…what’s the matter with you rooster? We’ve all overslept because of you and the pigs didn’t get fed and the cows didn’t get milked and Ma Jones didn’t make me breakfast and…and…I’m really upset with you!”
Dooley tried to cackle down to farmer Jones but nothing came out again…but farmer Jones looked up to see Dooley trying to cackle or cluck or whatever roosters say when they aren’t Cock A Doodle Doodling and he said “Oh Dooley…have…you…LOST your voice?”
So Dooley pointed his right wing at his throat and tried again but just quiet air came out! Then off in the distance Dooley heard old Chester from the next farm over…crowing. “Lot of good that old rooster does crowing at 9 AM…But…well…at least Chester CAN crow.”
Dooley felt really sad now and slowly came down from his crowing place on the roof and farmer Jones picked him up and said…”Dooley…I think you have rooster laryngitis…I don’t know how long that lasts but I do have a great idea!”
Well, the farm day went by and then night time came and then all of the animals and farmer and Mrs. Jones went to bed and so did Dooley. About 4 AM Dooley woke up and tried out his Cock A Doodle Doodling voice but he still had rooster laryngitis or whatever farmer Jones called it, but as the sun peaked up over the Eastern fields Dooley remembered farmer Jones’ great idea…grabbed the battered old brass trumpet the farmer had given him and blew a song called ‘Reveille”.. Toot Toot Tooty Toot…and the lights went on in the farmhouse and the cows mooed and the pigs grunted and the hens cackled and the whole farm and EVEN the neighbor’s farm lit up and began their day right on time thanks to Dooley and his big brass trumpet.
Dooley eventually got his Cock A Doodle Doodling voice back but still blew the trumpet on special mornings…and Small Town Farm never woke up late again…EVER!
Sara wasn’t feeling too happy that morning as she walked along the twisted path in the woods near her house. She had broken her favorite mirror and her Mom said that they couldn’t afford to buy her a new one for awhile.
There is a superstition about breaking mirrors…seven years bad luck…but Sara didn’t believe in superstitions. Did she?
She stubbed her toe on a stone embedded in the path and stopped and sat down to rub her aching foot and thought…”That was just a bit of bad luck that I stubbed….What?…Oh No.”
But soon her toe felt fine and there were no bruises. Then a small branch fell from a tree and glanced off of her shoulder as it fell.
“Ouch!” Sara yelled and rubbed her shoulder.
Just as Sara was starting to get really scared of the thought that she might have to live until she was seventeen before she would be lucky again she saw the sun glinting off of a tiny bright metal edge that was sticking up out of the middle of the path.
“My I’m glad that I didn’t step on that…it looks sharp.”
Then as Sara looked more closely at the golden edge she realized that it was just a part of a much larger piece of metal that was buried in the ground.
She dug around the edges and as she did, she revealed a rectangular piece of thin gold that had words engraved upon it.
She rubbed the caked dirt off of it and soon she could read the message.
COUPON GOOD FOR ACHIEVING TRUE HAPPINESS
“It must be part of some toy game or something” she thought. But soon she realized as she was holding it that she couldn’t stop smiling and feeling…well…wonderful!
She headed back to her house to show the magical find to her Mom when she spotted Mrs. Jenkins, her neighbor sitting on her porch with her head in her hands.
As Sara looked at her neighbor Mrs. Jenkins looked up at Sara and managed a weak “Hi….Sara.”
Mrs. Jenkins had obviously been crying and Sara went and sat next to her. “What’s the trouble Mrs. Jenkins?”
“It’s my dog Timmy….he….just got too old to keep going I guess…and I really miss him.”
Sara knew Timmy and he was a wonderful dog that had lived at the Jenkin’s house as long as Sara could remember.
Then Sara looked down at the coupon.
“Here…Mrs. Jenkins…I hope this makes you feel better.” Sara handed the Gold Coupon to her neighbor. As soon as the lady took it into her hands she smiled and then leaned over and hugged Sara.
“Oh Sara…I feel better already. What a sweet girl you are.”
And even though Sara had given away her “Coupon of True Happiness” she felt even happier than she did when it was hers.
THE MAGICIAN by Russ McKay
May 15
“And a wave of the magic wand and…POOF!….the rabbit has disappeared!”
The audience broke into loud applause at the finale of the magician’s act. Of course the rabbit, whose name by the way is “Nosey”, did not actually disappear but just dropped to a hidden compartment in the table.
But Nosey was growing bigger and the place in the table was really getting cramped and Nosey himself was tired of The Amazing Master Magician Marco getting all of the applause and credit for performing such a simple act of disappearance.
One Saturday evening, before the show began Nosey got Marco’s magic wand and took off the handle and placed it on the opposite end of the long wand stick.
The show went on as normal and as the finale approached Nosey sat on the table twitching his nose and looking all fluffy and docile until Magician Marco raised the wand and said….”A wave of the magic wand and…POOF!…”
There was a stirring in the audience and suddenly they broke into great applause as Nosey stood on his hind legs and took a low bow for performing the disappearing Magician trick!
Guffaw was sitting over in the corner of the jungle path with his head hung down and feeling very sad.
“Hey Guff what’s up?” asked Webby the spider monkey.
“Oh…I…..just…..I don’t know.” Guffaw moaned.
“What’s the joke du jour Guff ole pal?” said Anna the Anaconda.
“I think something has made him very sad.” observed Webby.
“SQUAWK!….Hey GUFF….tell us a funny one eh?” remarked Bluey the Hyacinth Macaw.
“I’ve never seen him like this before!” said Anna and all the others agreed.
“Hey Guff…Whaddaya call a guy that has to entertain animals all his days?….A Zookeeper! Ha…get it?” Webby was trying to cheer up Guffaw but it wasn’t working.
The animals all tried different things to cheer up their jungle pal but even a tickle under his chin from Anna didn’t change Guffaw’s sad mood.
“Maybe…Guff realizes that not everything in life is funny. That some things are quite serious and not in the least bit humorous.” Bluey was a smart bird. All of the other animals agreed to that. After all, Hyacinthe Macaws were the only ones in that particular South American jungle that could imitate that awful sounding human voice.
Well…all the animals tried everything they could think of to cheer up Guffaw and make him laugh again and finally after Webby had hung upside down by his prehensile tail and scratched himself and made “funny” noises and still no response from Guff, Webby said…”Well I guess we all just have to give up!”
Then as all of the animals began to leave, Webby slipped on a banana peel and fell down.
“HA HA HA…..Ho….that WAS FUNNY!!!!” Guffaw was laughing so much his sides started to hurt.
Well Webby’s sides and arm hurt too and he said to Guffaw…”Some things are funny and you can laugh but….I think I hurt my “humerus” bone!”
Carl was tapping his foot and checking the clock. “Ahh…will you kinda hurry up a bit….Dear?”
“I’ll just be a minute.” she responded.
Then Carly came out of the changing area and Carl said…”I….thought…..that you were wearing the green! I’ve got the brown on….now…I’LL have to change!”
“I look better in green, and besides nobody cares what guys wear!”
“Well I do….but if I change now we’ll be late.”
So the fashionable but uncoordinated couple went to the party and had a great time. And by the way there was another mismatched couple there too…the chameleons from the other side of the garden.
PICNIC by Russ McKay
Apr 4
“When you get ready for a picnic there’s always so much to do!”
“I agree. There’s finding the proper location and there’s making sure that the effort will be worth it for everybody with good food.”
“And don’t forget about the weather. That’s very important. We don’t want the picnic to have to be packed up quickly and everyone scramble away.”
“Well…anything worth the effort always takes a lot of forethought.”
All agreed.
Just then “Brownie” ran into the group…”I found it… the PERFECT picnic spot!”
“Oh great! Show us exactly where it is and we’ll all follow!”
Brownie led the way and then following closely behind him in a long line… was the entire ant hill!