.jpg)
" For Your Greatest Happiness." "Excuse me? But can I ask what you are doing?" A warm buttery voice spoke from beside a raft. "No! I am perfectly miserable, leave me alone, you, whatever!" A muffled voice whined.
"Beaver." He whistled through large front teeth. "What is your name, little chick?"
"Patch, because of all the cracks on my shell. Now be quiet or the fox will hear you!" He squawked.
The beaver climbed on top of his dam to get a better look at the shore line. There was something there but he could only see shadows through his aging eyes.
"I heard him outside the coop, growling and clawing at the dirt. The hens and chicks left to welcome Grandfather Rooster. I was all alone, exposed to the dangers of the world!"
Patch rolled onto his back and let his exposed legs flop needlessly back and forth. The beaver jumped onto the raft and sat beside him. He placed one webbed paw on the top of Patch’s shell
and stroked his left leg lovingly. He grazed the shore line with his eyes once again. Trying to
discover the shadow that paced back and forth among the tall pine trees. He sniffed the morning air searching for the foul scent of fox and smelled only the blossoming blue bells decorating the sandy beach. He cocked his head to one side in order to listen for the deep growls that would most certainly come from a hungry fox. But all he could hear were the chirping and chattering of his neighborhood friends.
"Are you sure it’s a fox?"
The beaver questioned while holding a soggy paw above his eyes to help block the bright rays of the sun.
"Yes, the hens cluck all day about them. That is why I decided to stay nestled in the safety of my little shell, forever. But then just this morning, after they all left, I knew I had to pop out my wobbly legs and run or I would be eaten by the fox that sat grunting outside. I ran until my toes touched this water. I can not swim so my feet searched out this raft and now I am bothered by a beaver."
Patch sighed deeply and shivered.
"Well, you’ve already got your feet out. Might as well pop the rest of you out too."
The beaver said while tapping lightly on the side of Patch’s pitiful shell.
"You’ll never know for sure if it is a fox if you don’t take a look at him."
Patch crinkled his eyes and shifted inside his shell.
"It was hard to break my legs through. I don’t think I am strong enough to get my head out."
The beaver gave Patch a little nudge and replied, "You’ll never know if you are strong enough until you try."
Patch twitched his feet back and forth nervously and clicked his tongue inside his beak.
"It is getting very cramped in here. I guess I can poke my head out long enough to stretch and look."
With that thought, Patch took a deep breath and balled up his shoulders. He pushed the top of his head against the cracks of the shell. It was so warn that it didn’t take much force for the little chick to pop his whole body out. He blinked several times against the new blinding light.
"What is that?"
Patch hunched over and covered his head with his wing.
"The sun, silly, look at it, feel how warm it is!"
The beaver began dancing around the little bird causing the raft to sway and Patch to loose his balance. He toppled over and found himself staring up into a big blue sky. At least he thought it was the sky, he had heard the hens talk about it before. Fluffy clouds hung low over the tops of the trees and he could hear the water of the lake lapping against the raft clearly now. As he sat up he saw a small creature jump out of the water and land with a plop. Ripples moved out from the spot and Patch followed them with his eyes till they reached the rocky shore. The shore, the fox, death! Poor Patch began to quiver.
"Time to go look at your fox lad!"
The beaver chimed as he slid into the water. He easily dislodged the raft from his dam and began pushing it to shore.
"That’s close enough!" Patch screamed.
He could see the fox now, big, red, and hungry. Pacing back and forth along the rocks of the beach.
"Are you sure?" The beaver popped his head out of the water. "I don’t think we are close enough to see him well. Let’s move in a bit more."
Patch closed his eyes and shuddered as the beaver quickly swam them both to shore. Patch heard the sound of water splashing and slogging as the beaver jumped onto the raft.
"Open you eyes little Patch and face your fox."
Patch slowly peeled each eye open one at a time and discovered they were right next to the shore. Standing at the waters edge was a large red rooster. The rooster cleared his throat with a low rumble that sounded much like the growl of Patch’s hungry fox.
"Hello Patch, I am Grandfather Rooster. Everyone is waiting for you to come join in the days activities."
Patch sheepishly looked back and forth between the beaver and the old rooster.
"I thought you were a fox come to eat me."
The old rooster gave a heart felt cluck and held out a wing, encouraging Patch to join him.
"Clearly I am not. But I am hungry so let us be off to enjoy the spoils of the day!"
The beaver gave Patch a loving pat on the back and helped him leap to shore. Patch cupped his little feathers around the old bird’s out stretched wing and gave a hopeful thank you to his new friend beaver.
"Beaver." He whistled through large front teeth. "What is your name, little chick?"
"Patch, because of all the cracks on my shell. Now be quiet or the fox will hear you!" He squawked.
The beaver climbed on top of his dam to get a better look at the shore line. There was something there but he could only see shadows through his aging eyes.
"I heard him outside the coop, growling and clawing at the dirt. The hens and chicks left to welcome Grandfather Rooster. I was all alone, exposed to the dangers of the world!"
Patch rolled onto his back and let his exposed legs flop needlessly back and forth. The beaver jumped onto the raft and sat beside him. He placed one webbed paw on the top of Patch’s shell
and stroked his left leg lovingly. He grazed the shore line with his eyes once again. Trying to
discover the shadow that paced back and forth among the tall pine trees. He sniffed the morning air searching for the foul scent of fox and smelled only the blossoming blue bells decorating the sandy beach. He cocked his head to one side in order to listen for the deep growls that would most certainly come from a hungry fox. But all he could hear were the chirping and chattering of his neighborhood friends.
"Are you sure it’s a fox?"
The beaver questioned while holding a soggy paw above his eyes to help block the bright rays of the sun.
"Yes, the hens cluck all day about them. That is why I decided to stay nestled in the safety of my little shell, forever. But then just this morning, after they all left, I knew I had to pop out my wobbly legs and run or I would be eaten by the fox that sat grunting outside. I ran until my toes touched this water. I can not swim so my feet searched out this raft and now I am bothered by a beaver."
Patch sighed deeply and shivered.
"Well, you’ve already got your feet out. Might as well pop the rest of you out too."
The beaver said while tapping lightly on the side of Patch’s pitiful shell.
"You’ll never know for sure if it is a fox if you don’t take a look at him."
Patch crinkled his eyes and shifted inside his shell.
"It was hard to break my legs through. I don’t think I am strong enough to get my head out."
The beaver gave Patch a little nudge and replied, "You’ll never know if you are strong enough until you try."
Patch twitched his feet back and forth nervously and clicked his tongue inside his beak.
"It is getting very cramped in here. I guess I can poke my head out long enough to stretch and look."
With that thought, Patch took a deep breath and balled up his shoulders. He pushed the top of his head against the cracks of the shell. It was so warn that it didn’t take much force for the little chick to pop his whole body out. He blinked several times against the new blinding light.
"What is that?"
Patch hunched over and covered his head with his wing.
"The sun, silly, look at it, feel how warm it is!"
The beaver began dancing around the little bird causing the raft to sway and Patch to loose his balance. He toppled over and found himself staring up into a big blue sky. At least he thought it was the sky, he had heard the hens talk about it before. Fluffy clouds hung low over the tops of the trees and he could hear the water of the lake lapping against the raft clearly now. As he sat up he saw a small creature jump out of the water and land with a plop. Ripples moved out from the spot and Patch followed them with his eyes till they reached the rocky shore. The shore, the fox, death! Poor Patch began to quiver.
"Time to go look at your fox lad!"
The beaver chimed as he slid into the water. He easily dislodged the raft from his dam and began pushing it to shore.
"That’s close enough!" Patch screamed.
He could see the fox now, big, red, and hungry. Pacing back and forth along the rocks of the beach.
"Are you sure?" The beaver popped his head out of the water. "I don’t think we are close enough to see him well. Let’s move in a bit more."
Patch closed his eyes and shuddered as the beaver quickly swam them both to shore. Patch heard the sound of water splashing and slogging as the beaver jumped onto the raft.
"Open you eyes little Patch and face your fox."
Patch slowly peeled each eye open one at a time and discovered they were right next to the shore. Standing at the waters edge was a large red rooster. The rooster cleared his throat with a low rumble that sounded much like the growl of Patch’s hungry fox.
"Hello Patch, I am Grandfather Rooster. Everyone is waiting for you to come join in the days activities."
Patch sheepishly looked back and forth between the beaver and the old rooster.
"I thought you were a fox come to eat me."
The old rooster gave a heart felt cluck and held out a wing, encouraging Patch to join him.
"Clearly I am not. But I am hungry so let us be off to enjoy the spoils of the day!"
The beaver gave Patch a loving pat on the back and helped him leap to shore. Patch cupped his little feathers around the old bird’s out stretched wing and gave a hopeful thank you to his new friend beaver.
No comments:
Post a Comment