I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Hello! Here is my new story. It is based on a true event that happened to me.
Once upon a time yesterday, I was minding my own business in the yard, just running around and enjoying the super hot day (not enjoying, not really) when the sky started falling on my head.
“Oh, no!” I shouted. “The sky is melting. It got too hot and now it is dripping like water on my head, only it is not wet and it is not water.”
I stared at the pieces of the sky that bounced off of my tough bulldog head. They weren’t pieces of sky at all. They were half-eaten green pecans from one of the trees. I ran out from under the pecan tree and under the red oak tree. Tiny acorns rained down on me. Why? Why were the trees spitting their nuts on me? I thought they liked me. I always enjoy the shade they provide and I show my appreciation by not using them as a bathroom.
I asked the trees what they thought they were doing. They did not answer. Branches shook and leaves rattled. A shadow flew over my head.
A squirrel! A flying squirrel!
Transcriptionist: Hold on now. A flying squirrel? You said this story was based on a true event.
Dear Listeners and Readers, please ignore the interruption.
The squirrel flew from branch to branch, from tree to tree, flinging green pecans with big bite marks taken out of them. His aim was good. He was fast, but I was faster.
I took a mighty leap and flew up into the red oak tree. Through the branches and around and around the trunk, I chased the nut-thrower. Finally, I wore the squirrel out and chased him over the fence. That taught him to throw things at me!
Transcriptionist: Woah there, horsey! I think your story has run off on its own legs. When did you learn to fly?
When you are being bombed by a squirrel, you do what you must. That squirrel learned who rules that yard. Flying Stella, Squirrel Fighter.
The End (for now).
Signed, Queen Stella
Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.