LIFE OUTSIDE THE TOY BOX
Once a dog’s best
friend, always a dog’s best friend, or so I thought. But after he’d gone I was relegated
to a keepsake box with all the other toys he used to play with. By he, I mean,
Oscar the Labrador, who died two years back.
It was overcrowded
in the box but I stuck it out in the hope that humans would get another dog for
me to play with. The other toys were useless; they didn’t seem to have any
ambition at all. Tortoise ignored everybody, just sat there staring into space,
Cat thought of nothing else but keeping her whiskers straight, and Elephant
without a trunk was as silent as the grave. Lion’s roar was quite scary but it disappeared
on the second day Oscar had him. The squashy building blocks were the only toys
with any life in them. Someone only had to brush against the box and the blocks
would tumble about, ringing their tinkly bells as they fell against each other.
The thought of
hanging around, doing nothing for evermore was depressing. I had a deep think about
it, wondering how I could escape, and then I noticed an old pal propped up in
the corner: the White Fairy. She’d been a pretty fairy in her day but was now a
bit fragile looking, her white dress was grubby and torn, and the star on her
wand a bit tarnished.
Fairy hadn’t
really been a dog toy; little Gemma had put her in the box when she started
school and never came back for her. We never found out why she was left there
permanently. It was reputed that Fairy’s wand was magical, she only had to wave
it and wishes came true. I wondered if she could transport me to a new life.
After a long
middle of the night discussion, Fairy agreed to help. She wanted a clear day to
get her wand up to scratch so we agreed to wait until the following night
before she put a spell on me. I didn’t know if I would be able to wait that
long but she pointed out that one more day wouldn’t hurt. It was important to
wait, she said, because she hadn’t used her wand for such a long time and it
could be a bit rusty.
The call came at
midnight. I was excited as well as nervous; my mind seemed to be turning somersaults.
The good news was that she thought the spell would work; the bad news was that
she didn’t know for how long. That was a downer but it didn’t put me off ...
any time away from the toy box would be fine by me.
oOo
It only took one
wave of the magic wand to put life in my limbs. I felt it surging in, a real
prickly sensation. And then I discovered that I could move totally unaided.
‘Go, Tigger,’ she
said, ‘and good luck.’
After thanking her,
I climbed out. I didn’t stand on ceremony, I just went.
oOo
It was easy.
Having rope knots and tassels at the end of my legs enabled me to scale the
high side like a mountaineer. When I
reached the top I looked back at the other well-chewed toys, taking pity on
them for being so lethargic. I wanted to shout get a life but resisted the temptation. I wanted to escape, not
offend.
The first thing I
did was shuffle towards the door... shuffling was necessary until my legs were
stronger. It was there I hit the first
snag. How did I open a door? I looked round, taking in a number of stacked
chairs and some fold-up tables propped against the side. There was a window
high up, too high to see through. I thought about jumping from a chair, onto
the door knob and swinging until it turned; I only thought about it, the sheer height made me feel dizzy. Then I
noticed a gap at the bottom of the door. Was it large enough to crawl under? I
racked my small brain trying to remember what was on the other side. And then
it dawned on me, the door opened onto the garden.
I was inspired.
Fancy remembering that after two years! In all that time I never realised we
toys were kept in the garden shed.
Flattening my body
on the cold floor, legs awkwardly splayed, I peered through the gap and
proceeded to work out the best way to squeeze through. Did I put legs first, or
last? Did I shuffle on my belly or my back? I tried the latter. It didn’t work.
I tried lying on my tummy and inching my way underneath. It was tiring. While I
rested, I explored with one of my front legs and found that the leg went all
the way through the gap. But how would I get the rest of my body to follow? I
sat and pondered, saw the first hint of daylight through the window. It was
then I heard a noise.
Someone was
coming.
Oh no,
please don’t throw me back in the toy box!
I needn’t have
worried. In fact, I was now in a position to cheer when a man entered the shed
and left the door open. I was free. No more dark days in that musty smelling
box. No more irritations with the noisy blocks. No more wondering what life had
to offer.
oOo
I explored,
remembering the places Oscar used to take me, and the one time he tried to bury
me in the soil. He got into trouble over that. I wasn’t too happy either,
especially having to be washed afterwards. I’ll swear my colours faded that
day.
It was getting quite
warm so I rested on the grass. The smell was intoxicating after my
incarceration in the dusty shed. I dozed for a while, dreaming of my impending
adventure, half wishing Oscar was still around to carry me. In the distance I
heard a grinding noise but ignored it until it started to get closer. The noise
was awful. I tried to block my ears but the tassels on my legs wouldn’t stay
still. Then I saw it, the man who had entered the shed was chasing a green Monster
up the lawn. Coming closer. I feared for my safety. What if Monster didn’t see
me in time to stop?
I wriggled nearer
to the path.
Monster’s roar was
scary, he charged up the lawn, chewing grass and spitting it out like a shower.
He was getting nearer by the second, dragging the man behind him. And then
something else happened, a woman came out waving what looked like huge scissors.
I dived under a bush in the hope of finding a safe hiding place.
‘It’s no good
trying to hide!’
I peered round a
stalk and saw the Frog.
‘Monster will find
you wherever you hide. Take my advice, scarper while you’ve got the
chance.’
Since my funny
legs don’t let me move at speed, I took Frog’s advice and shuffled away.
oOo
I heard the roar
of traffic before I hit the road; it was scarier than the noise Monster made. There
were cars everywhere, moving at great speed, flashing lights and hooting as
they whizzed by. I’d been in a car before but only when Oscar was taken for a
ride. I’m sure it wasn’t as noisy as this lot. I was crouched by the kerb,
wondering what to do, when a small boy tried to pick me up. A woman pulled him
away, saying something about germs. She went to kick me into the gutter but at
that moment one of the cars pulled up and called her in. Suddenly longing for
the quietness of the toy box, I turned back the way I had come, back to the
grass lawn.
Frog was where I
had left him. He whispered ‘Beware’ just before a human hand grabbed me,
lifting me high in the air. And then I was flying, up, and then down onto a
smelly heap of garden rubbish. I felt
indignant. It was no way to treat one of Oscar’s favourite toys.
‘You’d better get
back where you came from,’ croaked Frog. ‘He’s put you on the compost heap.’
‘Compost?’
‘That’s where
things are left to rot, and when they’re rotted enough they get spread on the
ground. Helps things grow.’
This was
disturbing news. It obviously wasn’t the world I thought it was. Surely when
Oscar was alive there were only nice things around. No such thing as compost
heaps then.
‘Here, jump on my
back and I’ll give you a lift. Where would you like to go?’
Well, I thought,
if this is freedom I don’t want any of it. ‘I think I’ll go back to the safety
of the toy box.’
Thanking Frog, I
slithered past some slimy green stuff until I reached the ground. Frog crouched
while I lay on his back, then hopped up the path towards the garden shed. Monster
was still on the lawn, quiet now, and the man nowhere to be seen. The shed door
was still open so Frog took me right up to the toy box. As he nudged me off his
back I fell against the side and straight away the blocks set up a chorus. I
guess they were pleased I was back.
It only took a
minute to climb back in and take my place amongst the toys and I vowed never to
be so silly again.
The grass is always greener outside of the toy box. A cautionary tale for any wanderlust pet toys. I enjoyed reading your story.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Dave, it was fun writing it. I just hoped the grown-ups would find it amusing since I'd run out of children!
ReplyDeleteThat made a lovely read Valerie, you have a real gift.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Denise. I really enjoyed writing it.
ReplyDeleteI will never look at a toy the same way. I'm glad we saved a few of our dogs favorite ones, and they sit on a shelf with her other things.
ReplyDeleteHi kden. The toy pictured in this post was my dog's favourite toy so instead of looking at it and wishing he was back with me I thought I would write a story and dedicate it to him. Not that he will ever see it, but it made me feel I had created something in his memory.
ReplyDeleteValerie, first, I am so sorry for missing this post on 4/22. I don't know why, but I didn't see it on my Feedly reader. I just so happened to stop by to see if you had posted recently, and viola...I found it.
ReplyDeleteSecond, this story is FAAAAAAAAAAAABULOUS! OMG, I was literally glued to your every word, taking the adventure with the tiger toy! I know that I've said this to you many times before, but you have SUCH a talent for writing. And it blows me away how you can write in so many different genres.
I could SO see this story being made into a children's book with some really creative illustrations.
Brilliant, my friend! And again, apologies for missing this fantastic story!
Have a great rest of your week!
X
Good morning, Ron. I think my blog must have disappeared from a few sites since hardly anyone comes for a read now. Of course, there could be other reasons. Anyway, I am pleased you enjoyed this tale. I found it very amusing as I wrote it. I didn't plan a story but it came to me whilst handling the toy and thinking how much my dog was loved and how I miss him still.
ReplyDeleteHope everything is going well for you. Have a good week, what's left of it x
Hi Valerie and while i read this post a few days ago, somehow neglected to comment then. As Ron and Denise and others have previously commented, you do indeed have a special gift and I too am thankful that you share it with all of us. I think Ron may have a good suggestion as regards this being a great children's story.
ReplyDeleteHi Beatrice and thank you for your comment. Both cat and dog have been turned into small books, both of which sold well. I am now settled and in a can't be bothered mood to publish or print any more. That is the reason I am posting more stories on the blog. I never got round to doing the same with this toy story.
ReplyDeleteThere are so many angles to your story. That is evidence of craftsmanship. In the end some of us always go back to the box and others... stay outside it. :-)
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Hi Val. Always a pleasure to read your wonderful stories. Thank you so much for sharing with us. I am grateful that I get the opportunity to enjoy your special talent.
ReplyDelete