Children’s Stories

Never Hug A Thistle

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Never Hug A Thistle

Never hug a thistle

It is easy to explain

A thistle is so prickly

And it gives you lots of pain

Though you try to cuddle

And hold it more and more

A thistle doesn’t want it

And makes you very sore

Never hug a thistle

Though her blossom’s like a star

If you try to get too close

She will leave you with a scar

Though you hold it to your heart

And you stroke its fuzzy leaves

The thistle with its stabbing thorns

Will really make you bleed

If you’ve ever hugged a porcupine

You know just how they bristle

Well the same thing happens often

When you try to hug a thistle

Never hug a thistle

I’ve said this twice or thrice

A thistle doesn’t like it

She just isn’t very nice

So, if you know a thistle

And I think perhaps you do

Keep your distance and just whistle

Or she will damage you

By Diane E. Dockum

June 9, 2013

Rooster & Bear Go Fishing ~ Chapter 3

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Rooster & Bear Go Fishing

Chapter Three

By Diane Dockum

 Rooster and Bear sat on the bank of the stream with their fishing poles. Bear wished he were alone. Rooster was in his glory. The sun was bright and sparkled on the water. The air was fresh and clean.

Rooster threw back his head and let out a most awesome crow. He couldn’t help it. He was, after all, a rooster.

“SH-sh-sh” Bear said, clamping Rooster’s open beak shut with his big paw. “You’ll scare the fish away!” he reeled in his line with a jerk left and a jerk right, mumbling to himself.

Rooster stared and blinked his bright yellow eyes. He cast out his line again and wiggled his bottom down into a comfortable spot on the grass.

A beautiful rainbow colored trout leaped above the water and grabbed hold of Rooster’s line, yanking it away. It was a very big fish. Bear saw it and dropped his pole. He jumped up and started yelling instructions to Rooster.

“Hold on, hold on … now give him some slack, you got it, you got it! Start reeling him in! Pull this way – pull that way…”

“Quiet,” said Rooster, “you’ll scare him.” And he snapped his beak shut.

The big sparkling fish decided to swim up stream and Rooster, being a bird of meager* build, left the bank in a flutter of feathers and was yanked into the water, with a squawk. *(Here “meager” means slender, slight or mostly made of feathers, and not at all very strong.)

Bear’s mouth dropped open and his paws covered his face. (He was laughing, but didn’t want Rooster to see him.)

“Help!” cried Rooster as he was dragged over the rocks and up the stream.

Bear lumbered out into the water and cast his line as hard as he could. The hook attached itself to Rooster’s fishing vest and for a moment he was suspended above the water in a sort of tug-of-war moment.

Then the fish let go and Rooster flew backward toward Bear, who was standing on a large wet rock in the middle of the stream. Bear saw him coming, but didn’t think fast enough. Bear forgot to duck.

With his feet kicking wildly Rooster hit Bear in the middle of his chest and knocked him into the water.

Bear locked his right arm across Rooster’s throat, partly to save his life, and partly to shut him up, and swam heroically to shore.

“Sorry Bear,” Rooster crowed softly.

-end-

Rooster and Bear 1

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Rooster and Bear

CHAPTER ONE

By Diane Dockum

Bear lay on the sofa leisurely munching a bag of chips. The ball game was on television. He was alone. A contented lull came over him. He yawned with his paw full of chips halfway to his mouth.

The door flew open with a bang. Rooster stomped up the stairs into the living room. His beak was already going.

“We goin’ fishin’ Bear?” When you gonna clean that wagon out? We can do it today! Hey! I gotta idea, we could get a movie or a pizza, we could get a movie AND a pizza, whattya say? Come on, let’s go!”

Bear froze. This bird is going to drive me crazy, he thought. Rooster’s bright yellow eyes and flapping feathers were the last thing Bear wanted at that moment.

“I don’t think I want to DO anything, Rooster. I just want to watch this game.”

“Oh, OK, I’ll watch it with you.” And he wriggled his tail feathers deep into the couch cushions at Bear’s feet, forcing him to scrunch his length up uncomfortably.

Soon, Rooster’s left foot started tapping on the floor. He shifted back and forth to get more comfortable. Then he started to preen his feathers.

“Can’t you sit still!” Bear shouted.

“Got any popcorn? I feel peckish.”

Bear let a long tired sigh escape from his throat. He climbed up out of the sofa cushions and went to his kitchen cupboard. He carefully measured his private stash of popcorn, the gourmet kind and very expensive, into his hot air corn popper and flipped the switch. The machine began to whir and vibrate loudly. The heat rose in rippling waves. Bear knew he had to find the big bowl soon or it would be too late, the corn would start shooting out of the nozzle all over the place. He searched through the tall shelves, and down low through the underneath cupboards, but no bowl. He even reached way in as far as he could.

The corn was beginning to puff up. Frantically, Bear began flinging dishes out of the cupboards. Rooster darted into the kitchen to see what the racket was. When his claws hit the linoleum he slid into the side of the china closet and all Bear’s china dishes crashed down onto him. Just then, the popcorn let loose firing kernels like a Gatling gun out onto the floor. *

(*Gatling gun here means the popcorn was coming so fast out of the popper that Bear wished he had seven or eight hands to catch it all.)

Bear grabbed a dishtowel and tried his best to stop the barrage. Rooster’s feet were sticking up through a pile of china chips and corn.

Bear was groaning and trying to catch the corn in his mouth and in his dishpans. He had gotten the best corn money could buy. It expanded to nearly three times the normal size! The kitchen was soon buried in white puffy corn.

Then the popper stopped. The corn was all finished. From under the great pile of corn and crockery, Rooster made a soft crowing sound.

“Sorry, Bear.”

-end-