Well this is it. And so I take the final curtain.
2014 is coming to a close, and with it also ends my challenge. 2015 will see me editing all of the stories I’ve written this year (some need it a lot more than others) and hopefully collecting them together in some sort of volume. I hope to be able to publish them either digitally, physically or both as soon as possible.
I want to say a big thank you to everyone who supported me throughout the year to do this challenge, whether you read the stories, shared them with others or simply encouraged me to crack on I am grateful.
Extra special thanks goes to those who suggested stories. Whether they made it or not I am truly grateful that enough of you gave a damn to make the suggestions. I quite literally could not have done it without you. By way of thanks to those whose ideas did make it in to the final 53, I would like to offer you a free physical copy of the finished book if I can sort that out. I’ll be in touch.
Finally I would like to thank my wonderful, amazing girlfriend Eileen, without whose encouragement, suggestions, excellent pun based title creation skills, frequent cajoling and general all round awesomeness I would have fallen short of the finish line long ago. I love you.
Anyway, before I get totes emosh on you all, I give you, for the final time, this week’s story. This week’s suggestion came from Jess Radcliffe, and was simply ‘a story about having a diplodocus as a pet’.
I hope you have enjoyed this year as much as I have.
2014 – A Year In Stories
A Dinosaur Named Dog
“Did he come? Did he come?” Anna cried as she ran in to the front room on Christmas morning. “Did he, did he, did he?”
“Of course he did, dear,” Anna’s father Malcolm said, smiling. “He really enjoyed the milk and cookies, and Rudolph was very grateful for the carrot.”
“What did he briiiiiing?” Anna asked, running around in a very small circle by this point, unable to contain her excitement.
“Why not take a look?” Martha, her mother, urged.
The young family spent the next hour tearing open presents. However, as the morning went on, Malcolm and Martha noticed that their daughter was looking sadder and sadder.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Martha asked when her daughter was bordering on tears.
“I asked Santa for a doggy and there’s no doggy,” Anna replied.
“Your mother and I had a chat with Santa and he agreed that he wouldn’t get you a doggy because I’m allergic and I’d be sneezing all the time.”
“Oh,” Anna said despondently. “That’s not your fault I suppose.”
“But he did manage to find something even better than a dog…” Martha added.
Anna’s face lit up. “What is it?”
Malcolm reached behind the sofa and pulled out a box, wrapped but with air holes poked in the side. Anna tore off the wrapping paper and pulled off the lid.
“IT’S A BABY DINOSAUR!” she screamed. “A REAL LIFE BABY DINOSAUR!”
“A diplodocus to be exact,” her mother said.
“I WILL CALL HIM DOG!”
Ever since she had gotten Dog the diplodocus Anna had been the most popular girl in school. The dinosaur was so faithful that she could ride him to school and he would wait outside her classes for her so that she could play with him between lessons.
Nobody dared bully her anymore. Dog mostly ate leaves, but in a few short weeks he had grown to a formidable size. Her parents had assured her that he was a rare dwarf diplodocus, and that he probably wouldn’t grow bigger than a horse or cow, but the size of his teeth was more than enough to deter any would be undesirables.
Dog turned out to be very helpful to the whole family. He would often accompany Martha or Malcolm on shopping trips, and help them reach items that they might otherwise have struggled to get from the higher shelves.
Dog and Anna were already the best of friends and were practically inseparable. Originally he had slept in her bed, but when the bed collapsed one night after he had grown particularly large that practice had to stop.
Dog was naughty sometimes too. Eventually his size and the fact he had free run of the house meant that snacks were not even safe in the highest cupboards. The family had to come up with more and more creative ways of hiding food from Dog, just so that they could enjoy at least a little bit of it themselves before he snaffled it.
Every time they came home to find Dog asleep on the kitchen floor surrounded by evidence of his most recent crimes they tried to be mad at him, but he would give them a big lick on the face with his coarse tongue and they found that they couldn’t stay annoyed for long.
After a few months, they all agreed he was the perfect pet.
One day, as Anna and Dog were walking back home from school they heard the most terrible wailing coming from one of the gardens. Unable to see past the hedge what the problem was, and being the responsible young girl that she was, Anna opened the gate and went in.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
It turned out the wail had come from a little old lady who lived in the house.
“My cat!” she cried. “My cat Fluffums is stuck up in the tree and I can’t get him down!”
It was only a very short tree, but Anna was afraid of heights and the lady was clearly too fragile to start emulating Tarzan. This was clearly a job for one dinosaur.
“I know,” Anna said, smiling. “Dog can do it! Dog will get Fluffums down from the tree!”
The old lady stopped wailing and stared at Anna.
“A dog?” she asked incredulously. “How on earth is a dog going to help get my Fluffums out of this tree. Young lady if you have nothing productive to offer I suggest you scoot off home.”
“Oh, you misunderstand, Dog is his name,” Anna replied. “Here, Dog!” she called.
Dog, who had been patiently waiting on the pavement outside the woman’s garden, came bounding through the gate, nearly tearing it off its hinges with his bulk.
“Well I never!” the old lady exclaimed, now extremely flustered by the whole situation. “What on earth is that…that beast?!”
“His name is Dog,” Anna said defensively. “And he is a diplodocus.”
“A diplodocus. It’s a kind of dinosaur. He’s a herbivore, so he won’t eat Fluffums. He normally only eats leaves, but he has taken rather a liking to Pop Tarts recently.”
“What on earth are you blathering on about, young lady?” the old woman asked, wagging an accusatory finger.
Anna noticed that she was very angry indeed, and it seemed that even Dog could sense the hostility. At least, she noted, that the woman seemed to forgotten about her cat for the time being.
“A dinosaur, a diplodocus, Pop Tarts?” the rant continued. “Never in all my life have I heard such utter twoddle coming from the mouth of another human being. Dinosaurs have been extinct for millions of years. I ought to call your parents. I bet they’d love to hear the sort of nonsense their daughter is coming out with.”
Anna felt that things were getting a little too heated, and decided that it was time to divert the conversation back to the original subject of rescuing Fluffums the cat from his perch.
“Perhaps we should try and help Fluffums?” she suggested.
“Very well,” the old lady said simmering down slightly. “If your ‘dinosaur’, or dog in a costume, or small horse, or whatever that thing is can get my Fluffums out of that three then maybe I won’t ring your parents.”
They both turned to the tree to survey the situation, only to find that it had already been resolved.
While the old lady had been ranting, Fluffums had caught sight of Dog wandering over to the tree and decided that, despite being rather frail himself, that he was not interested in any of that sort of business thank you very much, and had bolted from the tree far quicker than he had managed to get up there.
Anna walked over and scooped up the petrified cat, who had decided to switch the exposed branch for the much safer foliage of the privet hedge. He mewled frantically, but age had long since put paid to any arthritic attempts at scratching Anna.
She walked over to the old lady and handed the cat over.
“Here you go,” she said cheerfully. “That’s not how I was expecting him to do it, but you can’t argue with results.”
The old lady was shellshocked. The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds, and once again she had her beloved cat safe in her arms. Without another word she turned and walked back in to her house, leaving Anna and Dog stood on the lawn.
Anna turned to Dog, who she found munching on some prize azaleas.
“Stop that, Dog.” she scolded. “Or you won’t eat your Pop Tarts.”
After she told almost the entire school about Dog’s daring rescue, word got around quickly about the Jurrasic escapade. A few days after the event a journalist from the local newspaper, the Hopton Flyer, came to talk to Anna about the rescue, and to take some pictures of her and Dog.
The journalist said that she was very jealous that Anna had a dinosaur for a pet, and assured her that a story this big would be front page news in the Flyer. Dog the Rescue Dinosaur would be a big hit.
Anna simply could not wait for the story to come out. She checked the flyer every morning (after dad had finished reading it over breakfast) but after a week she started to lose heart.
On the eighth day she trudged downstairs, bleary eyed, to have some breakfast before she went off to school.
She found both her parents in the kitchen, waiting for her, huge smiles on their faces.
“We are so proud of you!” Martha said.
“And proud of Dog!” Malcolm added.
“What are you talking about?” Anna, whose brain rarely got in to gear in the mornings before she had eaten her boiled egg and soldiers, asked.
Her dad picked the paper up from the table.
“Look,” he said. “Dog made the paper.”
Suddenly very excited and awake, Anna grabbed the paper. There, indeed, was the picture of her hugging Dog, right on the front page, just as the journalist had said it would be. She read the headline out to herself.
“8 Year Old And Pet Dinosaur Named Dog Rescue Cat From Tree, Fire Department Glad Not To Be Bothered.”