Filmed at Wishing Well Sanctuary, Bradford, Ont. L3Z 3L3
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Tag Archives: Animals
Listening to the mouse in the wall
I lay in bed listening
To the mouse in the wall.
He doesn’t know I’m here,
I think I’ll call him Paul.
****
He always comes at bedtime
To find his winter stash.
He must be very hungry,
Scratch and scrape and bang and bash.
It sounds just like marbles
That he rolls above my head,
But I think it must be nuts,
They sound loud when I’m in bed.
****
I’m glad Paul won’t go hungry,
He works hard for every bite,
But I wish he’d work the day shift
So I could sleep at night.
Why must we eat the animals?
I love this song, and we just saw the lead vocalist in Ghost Whisperer!!! (Season 2, episode 2). Greg Cipes is an actor, musician and professional surfer – now there’s a vegan who lives life to the full! 😀
For more great vegan music go to the Music Page 😀
Good instincts
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂
Chapter 16 continues from yesterday:
Mum opened the bedroom door.
“Luke, don’t you want to help decorate the tree?”
“erm, no thanks,” he said without looking at her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure? You haven’t been yourself since we went to the Maybury Centre.”
Luke didn’t say anything. Mum tried again.
“What happened to upset you? I thought you’d like it there.”
Luke let go of his trains, sat back and looked at her.
“I’m fed up.”
“Why?”
“Coz I’m fed up of grown ups not doin’ what they say.”
Mrs Walker waited for more.
“Maybury is a animal sanctry wot says it teaches people to be kind to animals. A man from Maybury even came to give a talk at school to tell us not to keep animals in small cages, or let them have puppies.”
“Okay,”
“So why do people whose whole job is lookin’ after animals and teachin’ other people to look after ’em prop’ly, still let animals be killed for food? Why don’t they care about them animals? Why do they on’y care about some animals?”
“What makes you think …”
“They sell dead animals in their cafe.”
“Really? That does surprise me.”
“If I can’t trust people whose job is lookin’ after animals then I can’t trust nobody. ‘cept myself!”
“Ooh, that’s hard. No wonder you’re fed up,” said Mum sympathetically.
“And Joe,” he admitted.
“Well, that’s something. But you know Luke, you shouldn’t give up. You should tell them how you feel. You should tell them you are offended by their decision to sell meat in their cafe.”
“I did tell ’em.”
“Good. And what did they say?”
“Nothin’ sensible. Jus’ said it was okay coz it was rangin’ and stainable. Rubbish!”
“Tell them again. Write them a letter.”
“What’s the point? They won’t take no notice o’ me.”
Mrs Walker was sorry her son felt so discouraged. It was a terrible thing to lose your faith in humanity at such a young age.
“The thing is,” she told him, “you never know when someone might listen. The only thing you can be sure of is that if you don’t say anything, they definitely won’t get the message.”
Luke looked at her and didn’t say anything.
“Come with me, come and help decorate the tree,” she said.
When they got to the living room Jared and Dad already had things well underway. The tree was gleaming with glittery gold and silver tinsel and different coloured shiny baubles.
“Mm, pretty good,” said Mum, “but it’s missing something.”
“The star for the top,” said Jared, “I’m just about to do it.”
“Something else,” said Mum and she left the room.
A moment later she was back with a small box from the kitchen. She handed it to Luke.
“No Christmas tree is complete without a few sweet treats,” she said, smiling.
Luke looked in the box. It was full of chocolate Santas. On the wrappers were the words:
Moo Free Organic Chocolate,
DAIRY FREE, GLUTEN FREE, VEGAN
Luke’s jaw dropped and his eyes lit up.
“Are these for me?” he asked.
“No, greedy boy, they’re for all of us! Why don’t you hang them on the tree?”
“But, … how come …?”
“I found your leaflets,” Mum explained.
“What leaflets?”
“The ones stuffed in the back pocket of your black cords; the black cords you shoved under the bed and forgot about I don’t know how long ago.”
“Oh, I wondered where they were.”
“Well I found them and I checked the pockets before putting them in the wash, and there were these leaflets. One with a picture of a cow on the front entitled ‘The Dark Side of Dairy’ and one with a cute little brown and white piglet on the front entitled ‘Think Before You Eat’.”
“And you read them?”
“And I read them.”
“And that’s why …?”
“Yes it is,” she paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “Luke,” she went on, “you have good instincts. When you started this crusade for animals you did it on instinct. You hadn’t been told any of the shocking facts and figures that are in those leaflets, you just knew it wasn’t right. And you did something about it. You spoke out bravely and you acted. You broke the rules when you felt you had to and you endured punishments, but you never wavered; you never stopped fighting.”
Luke nodded. He wasn’t sure why his mum was explaining something that she must have known he already knew, but he waited. It would become clear eventually. She continued.
“So I don’t want you to give up hope now. I want you to know that if you keep trying, you will make a difference. You have already made a difference for Curly and Little Squirt and the rabb.., er, the damsons, but even more than that, you’re a good influence on other people.”
Now, those were words Luke never thought he’d hear from his mother.
“You have been a good influence on us.”
At this point she took his hand, led him into the kitchen and opened the freezer.
“What d’you fancy for Christmas dinner?” she asked.
Luke looked in the freezer. It was full – Mum always did a big shop for the Christmas holidays – and there were quite a few unfamiliar boxes and cartons. He lifted them out one at a time to read the descriptions:
Cauldron Wholefood Burgers
Made with Chickpeas, Cauliflower, Aduki Beans, Broad Beans, Spinach, Onions, Garlic & Potatoes
Cauldron Wholefood Sausages
Made with Grilled Vegetables (Peppers, Courgette, Onion), Beans & Wheat
Cauldron Aduki Bean Melt
“The combination of aduki beans, spinach and mushrooms deliciously filled with mango chutney and carefully coated in breadcrumbs gives a satisfyingly moreish taste.”
Biona Red Lentil Sun Seed Burger
A flavoursome vegan burger made with red lentils, pumpkin and sunflower seeds with a subtle hint of spice. Made using all natural, organic ingredients and free from artificial colours or flavours. Perfect loaded with your favourite burger toppings, added to salads or dipped in sweet chilli sauce as a tasty and nutritious snack.
Can be eaten hot or cold.
Dee’s 6 Leek & Onion Vegan Sausages
The perfect partner to velvety mashed potatoes and homemade gravy, our Leek and Onion Sausages will become an instant family favourite on your weekly menu.
Dragonfly Organic Bubble & Squeak Tatty
Our Tatty is a vegetarian burger that has a real bubble & squeak feel about it, made using locally sourced cabbage and onions
Linda McCartney Vegetarian Country Pies
Vegetarian pie made from a shortcrust pastry base, filled with rehydrated textured soya protein in a rich onion and beef-style gravy, topped with a puff pastry lid.
Linda McCartney Vegetarian Sausage Rolls
Vegetarian Cumberland sausage-style filling wrapped in puff pastry.
And there were three flavours of luxury organic vegan ice cream:
Booja Booja Hazelnut Chocolate Truffle, Booja Booja Raspberry Ripple and Booja Booja Caramel Pecan Praline.
Luke was no longer fed up. He smiled broadly at his mum.
“Are these for all of us?”
“Yes they are. For all of us,” she said happily, “and I got them from Besco’s. They sell them in mainstream supermarkets Luke and that just shows how much progress you’re making. That’s what happens when you speak out and you keep speaking out.”
Mrs Walker was treated to a rare hug which lasted a good half minute, and then Luke ran from the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” she called after him.
“I’ve got some letters to write!” he said.
Happy Christmas everybody!
We hope you have a good one!
❤ ❤ We’ll see you in the New Year! 😀 ❤ ❤
*******************************************************
vegan, vegetarian, vegan children, veggie kids, animals, animal sanctuary, Christmas, children’s story, vegan children’s story, children’s book, vegan children’s book, juvenile fiction, hope
A penchant for wandering off
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂
Chapter 16 continues from yesterday:
“Luke! There you are!” called Mum, “you do have a penchant for wandering off.”
Luke had no idea what a ponshon was but decided to take her word for it.
“Look what I’ve got!” she said. She sounded excited. “I won it! Well, I bought so many tickets I almost bought it!”
Luke looked at the slightly torn, slightly scratched, slightly coming apart at one end, box she was carrying. He could hardly believe it.
“Is that the same as ..?” he asked her.
“Exactly the same!” she said. She sounded so happy. “Here you are darling, this is yours.”
She was holding a Hornby R.793 King Size Electric train set. It was exactly the same as Grandad Pete’s. Grandad Pete was Mum’s dad and he loved trains. He was a volunteer fireman at his local steam railway and he used to let Luke ride the engine with him when they visited at Easter and August bank holiday. His Hornby train set had three locomotives – a King Henry VIII, a Class 29 (type 2) Bo-Bo, and a Class 3F Jinty Tank. Plus it had coaches, wagons, trackside accessories and buildings. It was brilliant.
Whenever they went to visit Grandad Pete, Luke and Grandad went up to the loft and played with the train set for hours. It was always set up. Always ready to play.
Grandad died the day after Luke’s seventh birthday. He left Luke the train set in his will because he wanted it to go to someone who loved it as much as he had.
Sadly, Mum, because of an unfortunate series of events which were of no interest to Luke, accidentally backed over it with the car. Luke had been devastated. Mum equally so. She couldn’t replace it because they didn’t make them like that any more. And Luke didn’t want just any train set. But now she’d found one. And it really was exactly the same as Grandad’s. Luke was momentarily lost for words. He looked up at Mum’s glowing face.
“Thank you,” he tried to say but the words caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed. “Can we go home and set it up?” he asked.
“Now?” she asked, “are we done here?”
“I’m done here,” he replied.
***
On Christmas Eve, Luke pulled down the peak of his blue engine driver’s cap, blew his whistle and called,
“All aboard!”
The train pulled out of the station. It picked up speed and smoothly rode the tracks through Lego town, across the Scarf-River bridge, under the Bed-Tunnel through Bed-Mountain, and onto the Blue Pillowcase Coast. When it got to Seaside station it stopped to pick up Batman, Spiderman and a couple of soldiers on leave, before continuing on its journey to the end of the line. There was a near accident when a giant brown and white dog stepped onto the track but tragedy was averted when a quick-thinking observer lured the animal out of harm’s way with a Digestive.
Outside, a car door slammed.
“Luke, Jared – Dad’s home. He’s got the tree!” Mum called from downstairs, “come down and help me decorate it.”
Jared thundered down the stairs. Luke was too busy. Batman was late for a job interview – the train must keep going. As it sped towards the old suspension bridge, the driver noticed two of the shoe lace suspenders had snapped, and the others looked like they’d struggle to take the strain. He applied the brake but it was too late, the train was going too fast, it wouldn’t be able to stop in time. Suddenly Spiderman climbed out of the window and ran along the roof of the train to the front. He spun his web and ….
Mum opened the bedroom door.
“Luke, don’t you want to help decorate the tree?”
****************************
Story concludes tomorrow 🙂 or you can read the whole chapter right now 😉
************************************
vegan, vegetarian, vegan children, veggie kids, animals, animal sanctuary, Christmas, children’s story, vegan children’s story, children’s book, vegan children’s book, juvenile fiction
Looking for a squashed cupcake
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂
Chapter 16 continues from yesterday:
When he got to the cafe he decided to pop in. He knew that 87p wouldn’t ordinarily get him a cupcake but, since the end of the day was approaching, they might have made them half price. Or maybe there was a squashed one that nobody else wanted. It was worth a look. He stepped inside and picked up a menu. That was somewhat disturbing.
This animal sanctuary, this place of love and compassion, of respite and rescue; this place whose slogan, “We care about the well being of every animal”, was written across every sign and above every doorway, was selling dead animals in its cafe.
Luke spoke to the lady behind the till.
“Why are you selling meat?”
“Erm, well, it’s on the menu,” she replied.
“But why is it on the menu?”
“Because it’s a cafe,” she said, not knowing why he was confused.
“It’s a animal sanct’ry cafe,” Luke pointed out, “and meat is dead animals.”
“Ahh,” she replied, finally understanding where he was coming from. “All of our meat is from local, free range farms.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s sustainable.”
“What does that mean?”
By this time a queue had formed behind Luke and when the manager saw that it wasn’t moving, he came over.
“Is everything okay over here?” he asked the lady on the till.
“Oh, yes, erm, this young man has a question about the menu,” she told him.
The manager steered Luke away from the counter.
“How can I help you?” he asked.
Luke started again.
“Why do you sell meat here?”
“Because people want to eat it,” the manager answered.
“But what about the animals who get killed for your meat?”
“Well, …”
“And your eggs?”
“Ah, the eggs …”
“And cheese and milk and ice cream?” Luke was getting louder and people were starting to look.
The manager spoke quietly in an effort to diffuse the situation.
“I assure you that all the meat, eggs, fish, and dairy sold here comes from local free range farms with sustainable practices.”
Luke was exasperated.
“That’s what she said!”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that it doesn’t come from factory farms where animals are kept in small cages. The animals are well looked after and are free to walk around.”
“Until they’re killed,” said Luke.
“Er, yes,” said the manager.
“And are the killin’ sheds free range?”
“Er, no,” the manager admitted.
“Are they special killin’ sheds or are they the same killin’ sheds what the factory farm animals go to?”
The manager knew a lot of eyes were on him and for a few moments he didn’t say anything. Luke, however, had plenty more to say.
“They’re the same horrible killin’ sheds aren’t they? And them animals is the same as the animals who you look after here; who you say you love; who you say should be treated kindly.”
At this the manager felt he had a good come-back. He answered with confidence.
“Ah, no, we don’t sell the meat of any of the species who live at the sanctuary. Only beef and pork and fish.”
Luke looked at him with disdain.
“And,” the manager added with a smile, “we do have vegetarian and vegan options on the menu. We’ve got something for everyone.”
Luke was bitterly disappointed in what he had thought was a wonderful place. That this was happening made absolutely no sense to him. He was so sick and tired of adults saying one thing and doing another. The manager, taking his silence as an end to their debate, turned to walk away. Luke touched his arm and said,
“So, you know about veggietareun food, you know there’s no need to eat animals, but you still have ’em killed because some people like eatin’ ’em. And Maybury says it wants to teach people how to be kind to animals but it doesn’t set a good example of not eatin’ ’em. It lets people think it’s okay to eat ’em. It pretends it’s not cruel to eat ’em so people keep on doin’ it. So it’s your fault when people keep on doin’ it coz you could ‘ave told ’em not to and you didn’t.”
He turned and walked out. He didn’t want a cake any more.
**************************************
Story continues tomorrow 🙂 or you can read the whole chapter right now, no waiting 😉
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vegan, vegetarian, vegan children, veggie kids, animals, animal sanctuary, Christmas, children’s story, vegan children’s story, children’s book, vegan children’s book, juvenile fiction
The beginning of the end
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂
And here is the beginning of Chapter 16, the final chapter of the second book, More Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er:
Luke Walker and the Maybury Christmas Fayre
Luke reached for it at the exact same time as Jared. They scowled at each other.
“Let me have it. I saw it first,” Luke insisted.
“We saw it at the same time,” Jared argued, “and I’m the oldest so you have to do what I say.”
“I do not,” said Luke emphatically.
“Boys!” Mr Walker halted their squabbling, “what’s the trouble now?”
“I want to get this for Mum,” explained Luke, “I saw it first.”
“No he didn’t!” argued his brother, “I saw it first and I want to get it for Mum.”
The item in question was a dainty ceramic ornament depicting Little Bo Peep with a lamb – an ideal Christmas gift for anyone’s mother. Dad took it off them and asked the lady how much it was.
“All the small ornaments are 50p,” she told him.
Dad looked at Jared and appealed to his better nature.
“Luke doesn’t have much money Jared, so this is all he can afford. You’ve got your paper round money so you’ll be able to find something else. Let your brother have this one.”
Jared shrugged.
“Okay,” he agreed and wandered off to the home-made jam stall.
Luke pulled a sticky fifty pence piece out of his pocket and handed it to the lady. She wrapped the ornament in tissue paper for him. Dad smiled.
“Your mum’ll love that Luke, nice find.”
“Where is Mum?” Luke asked.
“Where d’you think?” said Dad, grinning.
“Tombola!” they both said at the same time.
This was the first time they’d been to the Maybury Christmas Fayre and it was pretty good. There were lots of stalls where you could buy Christmas presents for reasonable prices – some things were second hand, some were home-made. There were games, like Mum’s favourite, the Tombola, where you had to get a ticket ending in 5 or 0 to win a prize, and some which had a prize every time like the lucky dip or Luke’s favourite where you paid 50p for a jar wrapped in Christmas paper without knowing what was in it. If you were lucky it might be a jar full of sweets or marbles; if you were unlucky it might be full of tea bags. But even that wasn’t a complete loss because it could be a Christmas present for someone. Nan liked tea. There was also a cake stall, a raffle, and a dog show to see who was the prettiest dog and who was the cleverest dog and who was the most obedient dog. Luke knew that Dudley wouldn’t enjoy that because he was the type of dog who had no interest in performing. He was clever, but didn’t feel it necessary to prove that to anyone. He was his own dog and Luke respected that.
The other good thing about the Christmas Fayre was that it was in aid of helping animals. Maybury Centre for Animal Welfare was a sanctuary where they looked after horses and donkeys and sheep and chickens and tortoises and anyone else who needed help and came their way. They also rescued dogs and cats and rabbits and guinea pigs who’d been abandoned or neglected or cruelly treated, and they found happy new homes for them. Luke was very glad that his Christmas shopping money was going to such a good cause.
By three o’clock Luke had done all his shopping and was very happy with what he’d got for everyone: Little Bo-Peep for Mum; gloves for Dad; football book for Jared; jar of tea for Nan; bowling DVD for Grandad; and a jar of marbles for Joe. Plus he’d been lucky enough to score a jar of gobstoppers and a really cool stainless steel whistle for himself.
Luke had 87p left so while Dad went to find Mum, he decided to have a final look round. In doing so he came across a man wearing climbing gear standing behind a table with a pen and a long list of names and numbers.
“Sponsor me to abseil down the clock tower?” he solicited.
“What’s that?” asked Luke.
“Abseil means to descend down the side of a building on a rope.”
Luke looked confused.
The man tried again to explain.
“So, I’ll stand on the top of the tower wearing this harness attached to a rope which will be doubled through a loop. And I’ll jump off the top and bounce my feet on the side of the tower, going down bit by bit, sliding the rope through my hands until I get the bottom.”
“Yeah, I get what you mean, but why would you do that?”
“To raise money for Maybury.”
“But why don’t you get sponsored to do somethin’ useful, instead of abstainin’.”
“Abseiling,” he corrected. “Raising money is useful for Maybury. They can do a lot of good things with it.”
“Yes, but if the thing you got sponsored for doin’ was useful as well, like you could get sponsored for pickin’ up litter, then you would get money and at the same time you would have done somethin’ really useful.”
The man looked over Luke’s head at the elderly couple approaching his table.
“Sponsor me to abseil down the clock tower?” he asked them.
Luke moved on.
*********************************
Story continues tomorrow 🙂 or you can read the whole chapter right now, no waiting 😉
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vegan, vegetarian, vegan children, veggie kids, animals, animal sanctuary, Christmas, children’s story, vegan children’s story, children’s book, vegan children’s book, juvenile fiction
The Christmas Market
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂
Chapter 15, the denouement :
At ten forty-five on Tuesday morning, Luke and Joe climbed aboard the school minibus and grabbed two of the back seats. Tania and Isabel grabbed the other two.
“This should be good,” said Isabel.
“Yeah, I need to get something for my mum and something for my grandad,” Tania replied.
“Is that all?” Isabel was impressed, “I’ve still got to do all mine.”
The engine started.
“Okay everybody,” Thomas shouted from the front, “seatbelts on. Off we go!”
Luke and Joe pulled their lunch boxes out of their bags. Isabel laughed.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” she said, “you shouldn’t spoil your appetites – I bet there’ll be some delicious Christmas food at the market.”
“Nah, we’d rather eat now,” said Luke as he bit into his blueberry muffin.
Tania looked over at their lunches and it reminded her of something she’d been meaning to tell them.
“Thomas is a veggie.”
“Is he?” said Joe.
“I think so. I saw Mrs Tebbut offer him one of her homemade mince pies yesterday and he asked if they had vegetable suet in them. She said she wasn’t sure so he said no thank you.”
“He’s cool,” said Luke approvingly.
“Yeah,” Joe agreed, “it’s good he works in our class and dint stay with Ms Robinson.”
***
The Christmas market was really crowded. It stretched the whole length of Fish Street which had been closed to traffic. Mr Beardsley told everyone to make sure they were always in sight of himself or Thomas. They were not to go off anywhere by themselves.
There was a Christmas tree at the car park end of the street, huge and covered in twinkling white lights. Next to it the Salvation Army band played Christmas carols and the whole atmosphere was happy and festive. The first stall sold reindeer food at a pound a bag, for anyone who wanted to leave a treat for Santa’s friends on Christmas Eve.
At the second stall, if you weren’t short of cash, you could buy a hand-calved Buddha.
The third stall looked more fun – they were selling robots playing snooker. Luke thought he wanted one but forgot about it as soon as he saw the bird whistles on the next stall. He’d always wanted to be able to communicate with birds.
The fifth stall sold snake-length marshmallows; the sixth sold Turkish Delight; the seventh had models of owls and elephants in jars; the eighth sold rock crystal lamps; the ninth had reindeer-shaped planters. Before long the market lost its charm for two boys with no money.
“Let’s go over there,” Luke suggested, pointing to an empty bandstand on the lawn behind the stalls.
“Mr Beardsley said we’re s’posed to stay in sight,” said Joe.
“We will be,” Luke assured him, “we’ll be able to see everybody from up there.”
The boys squeezed between the chocolate scissors stall and the cannabis incense stall and climbed onto the raised platform of the bandstand. They sat comfortably with their feet dangling and tucked into their sandwiches while they watched the merry throng.
“This is good,” said Luke smiling, “I don’t mind shoppin’ if I don’t have to actually shop.”
By the time they’d finished their lunches their classmates were out of sight and Joe felt they should try to catch up. Luke disagreed.
“No, we might get lost. We should wait coz they’ll have to come back this way. Look, I can see the minibus from here.”
“That’s not our minibus. Ours doesn’t have a green stripe down the side.”
“Doesn’t it?” said Luke, a little thrown. “Oh, well, they’ll still have to come back this way. I think we should wait.”
They only had to wait for another quarter of an hour before they saw a couple of familiar faces. Tania and Isabel were hurrying across the lawn towards them.
“There you are!” said Isabel, gasping for breath.
“Luke! – You’ve got to come! They’re selling reindeer skins!” said Tania.
“And reindeer burgers!”
Luke and Joe, crestfallen, climbed down from the bandstand and followed the girls to the far end of Fish Street, where all the food stalls were. Luke was sad but not surprised to see what looked like hundreds of people eager to indulge in deep fried flesh foods, jostling to hold their positions in the queues.
“Say something!” Tania implored.
“What d’you want me to say?” Luke asked.
“Tell them they’re despicable to kill reindeer! Tell them it’s sick to sell reindeer burgers at Christmas!”
In addition to the stalls selling reindeer, there was one selling inferno cheddar (cheese laced with chillies); another was selling turkey sausages spiced with chilli and paprika; another was using a cute-looking model pig to sell pork scratchings.
“You can tell ’em that if you want,” Luke said, loud enough to be heard by anyone who wanted to listen, “an’ I agree with you, but it won’t do any good. Not while there’s so many stupid people who want to buy this stuff.”
“Who’s stupid?” said a large man in the spicy sausage queue.
“You lot,” said Luke unapologetically, “all you lot in these queues.”
“Is that right?” he said slowly, turning to face Luke with eyes narrowed.
Tania and Isabel blushed and took a step back. Joe looked at his feet. Luke didn’t move.
“Yeah,” said Luke, “Don’t you think it’s stupid to pay for somethin’ what’s killin’ the planet?”
A few more people turned to listen. Luke went on.
“Well, I call it stupid coz animal farmin’ kills the sea and the rainforests and makes more greenhouse gases than cars an’ planes an’ all transport put together!”
“Says who?” asked the man sceptically.
“Said the United Nations. Over ten years ago.” He paused briefly to let them absorb it before concluding. “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid to spend your money on killin’ the planet you live on. You’re killin’ yourselves. An’ your children. An’ your children’s children.”
Luke was surprised and disappointed to get almost no reaction to his shocking revelation, but he didn’t give up. He had more.
“An’ I should say it’s pretty stupid to let people starve coz you paid for their food to be given to seventy billion farm animals, just so you can eat meat an’ cheese. Yeah, anyone who pays for that is pretty stupid alright. And selfish.”
The large man laughed stupidly.
“But it tastes so good!” he scoffed and turned back to wait for his sausage.
In the silence before the conversational hubbub rose again, three or four people walked away from the food stalls. Luke turned back to Tania and Isabel.
“See, there’s no point tellin’ people they’re horrible for sellin’ horrible things. They don’t care. They’ll sell anythin’ if people’ll pay ’em for it. It’s the people what pay for it who make it happen. If they didn’t buy it, no one would sell it.”
The girls nodded. Isabel looked guiltily at the half-eaten bag of pork scratchings in her hand and quickly tossed it in the bin. All four children walked back to the bandstand to look out for the rest of their class returning to the minibus. When they were back in their seats on the bus, Tania made a declaration.
“I’m going to make an early new year’s resolution,” she paused for effect before announcing, “I’m going vegan!”
“Me too,” said Isabel, smiling.
Luke looked wonderingly at Joe. Joe nodded.
“D’you want to join our secret society?” they asked.
- “Good Spirit, your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life! I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”
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Christmas is just around the corner, for Luke as well. Join us tomorrow for the beginning of a Christmassy final chapter of the second Luke Walker book 😀
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vegan, vegetarian, Christmas, veggie kids, vegan children, vegan children’s stories, vegan children’s book, fiction, juvenile fiction, animals, environment, humour, adventure, activism
In the Sunday School room …
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 😀
To read the whole of Chapter 13 click here 🙂
Story continues from yesterday:
In the Sunday School room Luke was unsurprised to find quaint and colourful cardboard fishing boats stuck to a massive collage that covered a whole wall. The boats were manned by friendly fishermen pulling up nets by hand. The water beneath them was gleaming turquoise and filled with colourful fish who looked only too eager to swim into the welcoming nets. A golden beach was pictured behind with market stalls where smiling fishmongers sold fish to happy villagers under a soft blue sky. A red and white striped lighthouse kindly warned the fishermen to stay away from the rocks. And across the sky large paper letters spelled out the words:
“Typical!” said Luke with contempt and uncharacteristic brevity. There was no time for lengthy verbal condemnations. They just got on with it.
Forty-six minutes later Joe was on his way home with gratitude as Luke dropped the last armful of tinned fish into the wheelie bin behind the building. Tomorrow there’d be no Joe. Tomorrow Luke would be on his own. Which wasn’t a problem, because he wasn’t a coward.
***
Luke was quiet at breakfast on Sunday and Mum sympathised.
“You’re very preoccupied this morning Luke, are you worried about talking to Eric?”
“Er, kind of,” Luke admitted.
“Mm, it’s never easy to tell someone something they don’t want to hear but it’s better to be honest.”
“Yeah,” said Luke, enlivened by a slight resurgence in confidence, “it’s better if they know the truth.”
At ten to ten, Luke and his mum approached the chapel gate. Mrs Walker wondered what was going on. People were standing around on the lawn outside and the village bobby was there, talking to the minister.
“What’s going on?” she asked Gordon.
“Vandalism,” he said, flatly, “a horrible mess.”
“Oh no! How awful!” she said and rushed in. Luke followed at a cautious distance. Mabel, standing in the doorway, advised Mum not to enter.
“All our work yesterday – ruined!” she mourned, “it’s a horror show in there!”
When Mrs Walker stepped forward the first thing to strike her was the awful smell. She shielded her nose with her hand. Draped over the pulpit was a huge, orange, fishing net, tangled, filthy and stinking with rotten seaweed and the small fish and crustacean victims who’d been trapped and strangled by it long after the fleet had left it to drift untethered. The communion table and the floor around it exhibited a collection of old lobster pots and traps, a mess of wire and barbed hooks, a couple of rusty knives and a matching set of hooks, pliers and other fishmonger blades that looked hardly used.
These were set off to best advantage by numerous anchovy and sardine corpses variously strewn and interwoven throughout. The whole ensemble was liberally splattered with what looked like blood.
Eric emerged from the Sunday School room.
“There’s more in here,” he told her.
Mrs Walker had a bad feeling.
Apprehensively she followed Eric into the Sunday School room and discovered the picturesque fishing village scene was no more. There were no fish, no happy villagers and no fishmongers; the lighthouse had fallen into the sea and the colourful fishing boats had crashed into the rocks. Some of the paper letters had been rearranged across the sky to spell
“I told you we should have done the normal fruit and vegetable display!” Mrs Kirby chimed in authoritatively, “I said to the minister last week – people want a traditional harvest festival with fruits and vegetables and golden sheaves of wheat. Genesis 1, verse 29: I have provided all kinds of grain and fruit for you to eat,” she quoted, “This is a message from God!”
Mabel was irritated.
“God didn’t do this!”
“Whoever did it was sent by Him!” retorted Mrs Kirby, and no one dared disagree.
***
Mrs Walker kept her anger buttoned down. She didn’t say anything until they were well out of earshot of the other church-goers. It would be too shameful if anyone else knew what she suspected. Not to mention Luke might get a criminal record. Eventually, when they were almost home, she asked coldly,
“Who do you think did it Luke?”
“I’m with Mrs Kirby,” he answered honestly, “whoever did it was sent by God.”
Have a lovely weekend 😀
Join us on Monday for the beginning of Chapter 14:
Luke Walker and the Halloween Party
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For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂
Luke Walker paperbacks:
Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (the first eight chapters);
More Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (chapters nine to sixteen);
and Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er: my privut notebook
are available from Amazon in the UK, Europe, the USA and Canada 🙂
but if you’d prefer to mail order them through us, get in touch 😀
******************************
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Dangerous things
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 😀
To read the whole of Chapter 13 click here 🙂
Story continues from yesterday:
At 3.47pm Luke and Joe stood in Curly and Squirt’s shed. There was a big old wooden ottoman at the back. Joe had never noticed it before because ordinarily Luke kept a bale of hay on top of it and the whole lot was usually covered with a tatty blue tarpaulin. Luke started to lift the lid and then hesitated, looking over his shoulder to make sure the shed door was shut. It was.
“This is where I keep the stuff I’ve constigated on holiday,” he told his trusted friend, confidentially.
Joe looked puzzled. Luke put him in the picture.
“Remember me Nan and Grandad’s got a caravan at the seaside where there’s fishing boats on the beach? Remember I told you?”
Joe nodded.
“Well,” Luke went on, “whenever we go there I look out for things on the beach wot need takin’ outer circle-ation. Dangerous things.”
“And you constigate them?” Joe asked with the appearance of comprehension.
“Mm. Well, some I jus’ find, abandoned. Some I constigate from people wot are doin’ horrible things with ’em.”
Joe peered inside the trunk but wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking at. It was a miscellaneous jumble of what looked like rubbish – bits of plastic, rope, cord, wood, wire. All very unpleasant and dirty. It stank.
“And now you want to move it somewhere else?” Joe tried hard to make sense of the little Luke had told him so far.
“Yeah. On’y it’s too much stuff for one trip with just me. Your mum’s got one o’ them shopping trolley-bag things, and mine’s got two, an old one and a new one – I reckon we could fit all this stuff into them and move it without anyone bein’ able to see what we’ve got. They’ll just think we’ve done the shoppin’ for our mums.”
Joe nodded.
“Okaaay.”
“And,” Luke went on, “can you get any left over paint off your dad? Somethin’ he wun’t miss? Somethin’ he’s finished with and wun’t mind you havin’. Somethin’ he would rather you dint bother ‘im by askin’ for. Somethin’ he’d be pleased you took off ‘is hands without botherin’ ‘im. Somethin’ reddish.”
Joe wondered.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
***
Saturday was the day that Luke always helped Dad on the allotment and today, more than ever before, he was very glad of it. It gave him the perfect excuse not to help decorate the Sunday school room for the Harvest Festival. He remembered they were meeting at 10 o’clock and imagined that it wouldn’t take them more than an hour or two so they’d be done by lunch time. Then the ladies on the cleaning and flowers rota were going to decorate the chapel. Mum was one of those ladies and she got home at twenty past four.
“Put the kettle on love,” she called to her husband, “and if you look in the pantry I’ve a feeling you might find a packet of chocolate hobnobs behind the teabags.”
“Well, half a packet anyway,” Luke’s dad grinned as he nodded towards the dining table where six or seven of them adorned a small plate. Mrs Walker dropped exhausted into a chair.
“I knew there was a reason I married you,” she smiled as he handed her a hot cup of tea and sat down with one himself. “Thank you love,” she said, “that whole afternoon was an uphill struggle. Mrs Kirby was complaining the whole time that she thought we should be doing the traditional Harvest Festival display of fruits and breads and stuff, and Mabel was arguing that change was good and we should embrace change and move with the times. What’s modern about fishing I do not know! And then every time they stopped arguing Gordon would get them going again with ‘I suppose we have to do what the committee decides, never mind what the rest of the congregation wants!’ I don’t know what was more exhausting – scrubbing the kitchen floor or listening to ….”
“Shhh,” Mr Walker interrupted, “forget about all that now, it’s done. Drink your tea.”
“Don’t shush me!” Mum snapped. She hated it when he did that.
“I was just saying don’t worry about it, calm down ….” He never learned.
“I am calm! I’m not worried, I was just telling you what happened! I don’t like being shushed!”
“I’m with Mrs Kirby,” thought Luke as he took advantage of his parents bickering and swiped the chapel keys from Mum’s bag before heading for the front door.
“Jus’ goin’ to check on Curly and Squirt,” he called.
“Home by six!” Mum called after him.
“Six?!” he thought, grabbing the shoppers from the hall cupboard and hurrying out.
It was just after five when Joe and Luke arrived at the chapel gate. Luckily no one was around to hear its metal hinges squeal. They slunk across the lawn past the large wooden crucifix with the spikes on top to stop pigeons landing on it, and Luke unlocked the heavy door.
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Story concludes tomorrow, so don’t miss it 😉
Or you could read the whole story here now 😀
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Luke could hardly believe it
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 😀
To read the whole of Chapter 13 click here 🙂
Story continues from yesterday:
“What?!” Luke could hardly believe it. “They’re proud of killin’ sea animals are they? They want to show off about killin’ God’s creatures do they? That’s very Christian – I don’t think!”
“Well, Luke,” Mum tried to calm him down, “I know you don’t like it sweetheart but Jesus ate fish didn’t he? Some of his disciples were fishermen.”
Luke was unconvinced.
“How do we know that? Just coz someone wrote it in a book thousands of years ago in a diff’rent language. P’rhaps they din’t translate it right. P’rhaps they din’t tell the truth. Prob’ly whoever wrote it wasn’t even there at the time so they wouldn’t even know!” He was gaining momentum. “And, Jesus was perfect,” he went on, “so he wun’t ‘ave done somethin’ that hurt someone else on purpose. And he told them disciples to stop bein’ fishermen din’t he? And he wun’t ‘ave done that if he thought they were doin’ a good thing. And Jesus said God cares about every sparrow so if he cares about every sparrow then he definitely cares about every fish and he said ‘thou shalt not kill’ so he couldn’t be clearer than that!”
Red in the face from talking so fast without taking a breath and satisfied he’d settled the point, Luke stomped out of the room. Mrs Walker winced as the hall door slammed and Luke’s heavy footsteps pounded the stairs. She held her breath until all was quiet and then, just as she relaxed back into scrubbing potatoes, her son’s face re-appeared around the door.
“Oh!” she gasped, “you made me jump.”
“Don’t get any fish,” he entreated, “please.”
The following morning at breakfast Luke was distracted. He made no argument when Jared consumed the last of the frosted flakes; he didn’t defend himself when Dad told him off for knocking over the sugar bowl even though it was actually Jared who’d done it in his haste to grab the frosted flakes. The rest of the family were too busy to notice, but Luke was not himself. Eventually, when Jared and Dad had left for the day and Luke was left alone with Mum he told her,
“I’ve decided I don’t want to go to Sunday School any more.”
“Well I know you don’t want to go Luke, but you’re going. It’s good for you. I want you to learn good values, to be a good boy,” she responded firmly.
“I’ve got good values!” said Luke, indignant. “What do you mean values?” he added.
Mum sighed.
“Oh Luke, being a Christian means being good and kind and respecting your father and mother and not stealing and not lying, things like that,” she explained, “doing as you’re told,” she added.
“And not killin’,” said Luke.
“Of course not killing Luke, that goes without saying,”
“But they’re killin’! They’re celebratin’ killin’ fish and if that’s Christian I don’t want to be it!”
“Oh Luke why do you have to get so angry over these things? You might not want them to eat fish but they do. People do. People always have. And so do bears and cats and birds, and even other fish Luke. It’s the way of the world and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I don’t want to go! I’m not going!” he insisted. Mum inhaled deeply and counted to ten.
“Fine. But you are not going to just disappear like a coward without telling them why. You’ve got to be grown up about it and make it clear to Eric why this sea harvest upsets you.”
Luke sulked. He was not a coward. He wasn’t afraid of anything. They walked to school in silence, Luke was deep in thought. When they entered the school gates they were almost run over by Simon Butler racing across their path on his new bike and then, when he knew he’d got their attention, he pulled a wheelie.
“He’s a bit of a show-off that one,” said Mum, amused.
Luke snorted.
“A bit?!” he scoffed, “more like a lot! He’s a lot of a show-off. He’s pretty much all show-off! There’s nothing else to ‘im. ‘cept idiot. And creep. He’s a idiot creep show-off!” Luke concluded decisively.
Mum chuckled.
“Boys will be boys,” she said, “he’s just making a point. He’s just making it clear to everyone watching that he’s good at that.”
***
All morning, while Mr Beardsley was talking about the ancient Greeks, Luke was thinking about what Mum had told him to do. He considered very carefully exactly what she’d said and by the time Dionysus had whisked Ariadne away from Theseus he was satisfied that he could do as he was told without compromising his prince pauls. He’d need Joe’s help.
********************************
Sounds like Luke’s got a plan 😉
Join us tomorrow to find out what it is,
or just read the whole story now 😀
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And then what happened?
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 😀
Chapter 13: Luke Walker and the Harvest Festival begins here:
“And then what happened? Luke?”
“Erm,”
“Weren’t you listening? What happened in the end?”
“Oh, um, in the end she saved ’em all, and then they saw she was a girl, coz they thought she was a man before, but they didn’t kill ‘er because she’d saved China.”
Eric, the Sunday School teacher, looked at Luke blankly, as if he wasn’t there.
“Mulan? Are you talking about Mulan?” he asked after a long pause.
Luke wondered, not for the first time, why his mum insisted he came to Sunday School to listen to a man who seemed unable to remember, from one minute to the next, what he was supposed to be teaching them.
“Yeah. Mulan. Who saved China from invaders. Remember? Who you’ve bin tellin’ us about.”
“Okay Luke, well, you are clearly capable of paying attention – to Disney films anyway – but you’ve obviously not heard a word I’ve said today. I’ve actually been talking about Miriam, Moses’s sister, who hid him in the bulrushes as a baby, and later helped her brother lead the Jews out of Egypt.”
Luke frowned in deep thought.
“Oh,” he responded at last.
Eric turned to the other seven children in his charge and continued. Luke resented the ‘I give up’ look that Eric’s features expressed before they withdrew. He’d seen it many times. It was uncalled for.
“Mulan. Miriam. They’re both ancient. They’re both women. They both saved a whole country. They’re both heroes. They both start with an M. Anyone could easily get them mixed up,” he thought as he leafed through the parish magazine.
At last he heard the final hymn being sung by the grown-ups in the room next door and he unhooked his jacket from its peg.
“Hold your horses Luke,” Eric recalled him to the group. “You can go when your parents come for you but remember that next week is Harvest Festival so I’d like all of you to be here at ten o’clock on Saturday to help me decorate the Sunday School room. The church secretary told me that the committee has decided to do things differently this year… blah blah blah …”
“Saturday? Not likely!” thought Luke. He could hear the scraping back of chairs and the hubbub of grown-ups talking, getting gradually louder. Any minute now the blue door would swing open and Mum would effect his release. Any minute now.
Eric finished whatever he was saying, Luke slipped his arms into his jacket sleeves, the door opened, and he hurried towards it.
“Bye Luke,” Eric called after him, “See you Saturday.”
“Bye,” he replied without looking back.
***
At school on Monday Luke noticed a familiar theme. Mr Beardsley had written on the board:
He concluded that either Mr Beardsley had copied his project idea from Eric or Eric got it from him. This was no bad thing. He could get two for one. Score points with the same work twice.
Mr Beardsley explained that they should all bring in donations of food this week to make a Harvest Festival display in the school hall. Then they would have a special afternoon assembly on Friday to thank God for the harvest. As the food would later be donated to the homeless shelter in town he requested no perishables, only tins and packeted dry goods please.
So Luke went home that afternoon and explained to Mum what he needed for the Harvest Festivals.
“Looks like I won’t be able to do it once and hand it in twice though, coz they’re givin’ all the school festival food to the homeless shelter so I’ll need another lot for Sunday School. Tins and dry stuff he said. Have we got any of that?”
Mum looked in the pantry. “Yes, we’ve got some dried lentils and pasta, and some tinned beans you can have. I’ll get something for the church harvest when I go shopping. Tins again I think, otherwise it’ll smell.”
“What will?”
“The fish.”
“Whaddaya mean fish? Why are you gettin’ fish?”
“Didn’t Eric tell you? The chapel committee want to do a different kind of Harvest Festival this year. Instead of the usual fruits, vegetables, grains and bread etcetera etcetera, they want to do a display of the harvest of the sea.”
*********************
Uh-oh 😮
Find out tomorrow what Luke thinks of that idea 😉
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A wink and a smile
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here
For the whole of chapter 12 click here 🙂
Story continues from Friday:
At half past three, all the Year Fives who wanted to be in the Christmas concert went to the hall to audition for Ms Robinson and Mr Beardsley. There were more parts available than actors to play them so Luke felt confident he’d get something. He was expecting to have to get up on stage and recite a line or two from the play, as he’d seen done in a movie once. However, when Ms Robinson saw how few people had turned up she simply asked for a show of hands for each role. If only one person raised their hand for a particular role, they got it. If more than one person raised their hand, Mr Beardsley drew one of their names from a hat. Luke felt this diminished the accomplishment somewhat. He was the only applicant for the role of Third Spirit so the part was his, in addition he was pressed to play Jacob Marley which he was happy to do. Simon Butler would play Ebenezer Scrooge as an old man, a young man and a child. Katia got the parts of young Scrooge’s sweetheart and Mrs Cratchit; Kenny got Bob Cratchit, Fezziwig and the coachman; Tania wanted to play Scrooge’s nephew and Scrooge’s sister because she thought it would add realism to have some discernible family resemblance between those characters. Her wish was granted. And so it went on. Children were permitted to leave after their roles were assigned and by a quarter past five only a few minor roles remained to be cast. Joe and Luke were the only children left in the hall. Luke was waiting for Joe who, for almost two hours, had waited patiently for an opportunity to ask if he could paint the scenery. He had brought with him some preliminary sketches of ideas for backdrops and costumes but when he approached Ms Robinson, she misunderstood his reason for being there.
“Okay Joe, that leaves us with Scrooge’s Servant, the Gentleman Visitor, the Cook, and the Butcher. Do you think you can handle those?”
Joe went white in the face.
“er, no, he don’t want them,” said Luke, stepping in.
“Excuse me, I was talking to Joe,” said Ms Robinson, quite testily. “Come on Joe, they’re only small parts, you can do those for me can’t you?”
Joe looked at the sketchbook in his hands.
“I brought these …” he mumbled nervously.
“What was that? You’ll do it? Thank you Joe,” and she wrote his name next to the character names on her clipboard.
Joe looked at Luke with panic in his eyes.
“No, he’s not doin’ the actin’, he’s good at paintin’ scenery. He’ll be too busy paintin’ to do any actin’,” said Luke persuasively.
Ms Robinson looked at Luke as if her patience was at an end.
“This is nothing to do with you. If Joe didn’t want to do it he would have said so. Please credit him with enough intelligence to speak for himself and stop interfering.” She turned back to Joe. “Okay Joe?”
Joe nodded his assent.
Ms Robinson closed her clipboard and began to pack up her things. Luke knew full well that Joe was only there because he’d asked him to be. He couldn’t let him get lumbered with this.
“No,” he said with determination “Joe don’t wanna do it. That’s not why he came. He daren’t say it coz you’re in a mood, but he definitely don’t wanna do it!”
Ms Robinson glared at him in that all too familiar way.
“Luke. Walker,” she said slowly as if something had just occurred to her, “you’re the one Cathy Tebbut warned me about.”
At this point Mr Beardsley, who had witnessed the entire interaction, decided it was time to intervene.
“Can I have a word Ms Robinson?” he asked.
She glared again at Luke and then stepped aside to speak to her colleague. Luke sat down on the floor next to Joe.
“Sorry,” he said.
“S’oright,” his friend replied.
After a few minutes of hushed discussion Ms Robinson left. Mr Beardsley walked over to the boys.
“Ms Robinson and I have been thinking,” he said, “it doesn’t work very well to have an odd number of pupils in a class because when we need you to work with a partner, there’s always an odd one out.”
The boys nodded. That was true.
“So,” Mr Beardsley went on, “it’s better to have twenty six or twenty four pupils in a class than twenty five.”
The boys nodded again.
“So, Ms Robinson has agreed that it would be a good idea for you to transfer to my class Joe, if that’s alright with you.”
Joe’s now very enthusiastic nod was accompanied by a wide smile. Luke smiled too.
“Okay then,” said Mr Beardsley, smiling back at them, “I’ll see you both, ten to nine, on Monday.” He started to turn away before adding, “oh, and Joe, Ms Robinson said she’d be delighted to have your help with the scenery because she’s going to give some of the Year 4 kids the opportunity to audition for the minor roles.”
He winked and walked away.
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Luke Walker paperbacks:
Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (the first eight chapters); More Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (chapters nine to sixteen); and Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er: my privut notebook are available from Amazon in the UK, Europe, the USA and Canada 🙂 but if you’d prefer to mail order them through us, get in touch 😀
Unprepared
For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter 12 continues from yesterday:
*******
They weren’t prepared for what they found. Parked in the field, alongside the still confined sheep, was a double decker lorry.
The top deck was already full of sheep. The farmer was there, with his dogs, talking to the lorry driver. It was clear to the boys what was about to happen. That’s why they were locked up there. They were waiting for transport. Waiting to be taken to their deaths. Luke and Joe stood frozen at the bus shelter. They dropped their bags of apples.
“The lorry must be late,” said Joe in a husky whisper.
“Why?”
“Coz they haven’t been fed for two days, they must’ve not known it was gonna be that long.”
“It’s not late!” snapped Luke angrily, “look how clean an’ shiny that lorry is! I bet they don’t wanna get their lorry dirty – they don’t want no poo and wee in their lorry so they don’t let ’em eat or drink before the journey. Their last journey!”
Joe felt a lump in his throat and his heart ached.
“That’s horrible!” he said desperately, “what can we do? We’ve got to do something!”
Luke’s eyes started to sting as he watched them send in the dogs to herd the hungry sheep onto the lorry. He picked up the biggest stone he could find and threw it as hard as he could at the lorry’s windscreen across the road. It missed.
“There’s nothin’ we can do!” he said, grabbing his bag of apples, “unless you’ve got a thousand pounds to pay the farmer for ’em, and a hundred allotments to keep ’em on!”
Still they hated themselves for doing nothing and walked away in silent misery.
***
Friday morning at breakfast, Luke’s dad observed how cold and wet it was.
“It’s big coat weather already,” he told his wife, “it’s amazing how quick the temperature drops once September arrives.”
“Sometimes,” Mum agreed, “it’ll probably be warm again tomorrow.” She looked at her boys. “Your big coats need a wash to freshen them up,” she remembered, “so you’ll have to wear an extra jumper under your summer jackets for now.”
“I’m not wearin’ that wool jumper!” said Luke firmly.
“Luke, it’s cold. If your Dad says it’s cold then you know it is. He’s usually hotter than the rest of us.”
“Than you,” Dad corrected her.
“Yeah,” Jared agreed, “you’re the one who’s always cold,” he laughed.
“Well then, there you go, so if Dad thinks it’s cold …”
“I’m not wearin’ that jumper! Take it back an’ get your money back! We’re not givin’ money to farmers!”
Everyone stopped eating. Dad was not impressed.
“Luke Eugene Walker, how dare you speak to your mother like that? Apologise right now!” He spoke in that slow, quiet, angry way that meant you’d gone too far. Luke realised he shouldn’t be taking it out on Mum.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, “but I don’t want you to pay money to sheep farmers. I hate farmers!”
Mum’s response was gentle.
“Luke, clearly something has upset you, but the fact remains, as I told you, that wool isn’t cruel. It doesn’t hurt them to be sheared.”
Luke tried to explain it to her in a way she would understand.
“It doesn’t make any difference,” he said, “they kill ’em anyway.”
“Not for wool they don’t. They kill animals for leather but not for wool.”
“They kill ’em anyway,” Luke said again, “they make money out of ’em for wool; then they kill ’em and make money out of ’em for meat. They kill ’em for money and they’re horrible, nasty, evil, criminal murderers and I don’t want you to give them any of our money!”
Nobody could argue with that.
“Okay,” said Mum, “I’ll take it back today.”
***
Joe gave Luke back the books and pens he’d left in his garden the day before.
“I forgot them last night,” he apologised.
“Me too,” said Luke, taking possession of three brand new, very soggy, text books, and two exercise books in which a lot of his work had dissolved.
“Put them on the radiator,” Joe suggested helpfully.
“Yeah,” said Luke.
The bell rang and they went their separate ways.
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The story concludes on Monday but if you don’t want to wait you can finish it here now 🙂
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A brilliant plan
For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter 12 continues from yesterday:
*******
On their way home from school Luke and Joe discussed the Christmas concert.
“I don’t wanna be in it,” said Joe.
“You could just ‘ave a small part,” Luke suggested, “then we’d be together.”
“Oh yeah,” said Joe, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was terrified at the thought of being on stage; of being watched by people. Luke sympathised and racked his brains for a way that Joe could be part of the production without actually having to be on stage. Then it came to him.
“You could be the scenery painter!” he said with great satisfaction. “Then you’d ‘ave to be there, paintin’ the scenes while we’re rehearsin’. Then I could chat to you when it’s not my scene and I could help you. I could fetch your pens and paints and brushes. You could tell ’em I’m your assistant so they don’t send me back to lessons when it’s not my scene.”
It was a brilliant plan. Joe was as happy about it as Luke.
They ducked into Joe’s house for sheep food. His mum was in the kitchen.
“Hello Joe, oh, and hello Luke. Are we returning the favour tonight then?” she asked.
“What d’you mean?” said Joe, trying to think of a way to entice her from the kitchen.
“Is Luke staying here for tea today?”
“Oh, er, no. Thank you,” said Luke, “I’ve jus’ come to borra somethin’.”
That gave Joe an idea.
“Yeah, I want to lend ‘im my book about trains,” he said, “ya know, the one Auntie Sue gave me.”
“Okay,” said his mum without looking up from the potatoes she was peeling.
“on’y,” said Joe, tentatively, “I don’t know where it is. Could you find it for me?”
“Haven’t I got enough to do?” she said indignantly, “what else do you want – shall I tie your shoelaces? Shall I clean your teeth for you?”
Joe shook his head.
“Find it yourself you cheeky beggar!” she concluded, and that was that.
The boys stepped back outside. It was no use. She’d started the dinner which meant she’d be in there for at least another hour.
“Sorry,” said Joe, “we’ll have to get somethin’ from yours again.”
“There’s nothin’ left to take,” said Luke, “Mum said we’ll have to have tinned veg ’til she can get to the shops again and coz she thinks I took it for Curly and Squirt and the damsons – typical! They always blame me! – she won’t let me watch telly for a week!”
The boys looked at each other and thought hard. There had to be a way to get something to eat for those poor starving sheep.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” said Luke, not for the first time. Then he had a thought. An idea. A good one. It might be tricky but it was do-able.
“Remember that farm behind the pony field, next to the rec?”
“Yes,” said Joe.
“They grow salads and things, in them plastic tunnels.”
“Mmm,” said Joe, nervously.
“So, I’ve seen ’em, them tunnels, all they ‘ave to do is water ’em twice a day. The rest of the time there’s no one in ’em.”
“But they’ve got them big dogs,”
“Okay, well, we’ll take a couple o’ dog toys, and then you can distract …”
Joe shook his head.
“I don’t want to distract.”
“Okay, I’ll distract ’em and you can go into the tunnels to get the salad.”
“That’s stealin’.”
“To save lives!” Luke reminded him, “and anyway, they’ve prob’ly got hundreds o’ lettuces and cucumbers, they won’t miss a few.”
Taking Joe’s silence as tacit consent, Luke continued.
“First, we’ll go to mine to get the dog toys; and a bag; then we’ll go to the farm and I’ll climb in to play with the dogs; as soon as I’ve got their ‘ttention, you sneak into the …”
Joe laughed.
“What?” said Luke, annoyed that his great plan was a source of amusement.
“Look over there,” said Joe, pointing to the bottom of his garden.
There stood two heavily laden apple trees.
“Or,” said Luke, “we could take some apples.”
They emptied the contents of their school bags behind the water butt and replaced them with apples. With no time to lose, they headed to the muddy paddock.
*******************************
The story continues tomorrow but if you don’t want to wait you can read the whole chapter here now 🙂
**********************************
vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s stories, vegan children’s books, animals, animal rights, animal protection, animal rescue, vegan children, veggie kids, sheep, sheep farming, wool
Make sure no one’s watching
For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter 12 continues from yesterday:
*******
When they got to the bus stop they stood under the shelter and looked carefully in every direction to make sure no one was watching. Then they hurried across the road and emptied their bags into the muddy paddock. The sheep didn’t trust the boys and they crowded against the opposite fence.
“These’ll give ’em water as well as food,” said Luke, “I hope they like ’em.” He was a little disappointed that they didn’t seem too keen to tuck in.
“I think they’re frightened of us,” Joe suggested, “p’rhaps we should go back over the road and watch from there.”
Luke agreed and within a few minutes the sheep bravely and hungrily partook. The boys were extremely relieved.
“That’s good,” said Joe, “we’ll jus’ feed ’em every day ’til they let ’em out.”
“Yeah, but tomorrow we’ll get the food from your house or my mum’ll catch on.”
“Okay.”
Then they went to visit Curly and Squirt, before popping in to Joe’s house to tell his mum that he was going to tea at Luke’s.
***
On Thursday Mr Beardsley said that Year 5 were going to be responsible for the Christmas concert this year. He said they were going to put on a musical production of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.
“… so for any of you who are aspiring singers or actors, the auditions are being held on Friday after school.”
This was interesting. It was a good story. The Muppet Christmas Carol was one of Luke’s favourite films. He’d never thought of himself as an actor and the idea of performing did not really appeal to him. However, when Jared was in the school play a couple of years ago he said they had to rehearse so much that he missed loads of lessons.
“What parts?” he blurted out suddenly without thinking. Mr Beardsley was writing on the board.
“I’m sorry?”
Luke felt a bit embarrassed.
“er, sorry, what parts are in the play?”
“Oh, er, well, lots. Scrooge, Scrooge’s nephew, Bob Cratchit, the Spirits, Tiny Tim, …”
“They’re all boy parts,” said Tania Spriggs, one of the new girls. She was understandably disgruntled.
“Oh, there’s lots of girls’ parts too,” said Mr Beardsley, trying to think of one. “Oh, er, there’s Mrs Cratchit, and er, the Cratchit daughters, and Scrooge’s sister, Scrooge’s nephew’s wife,” he was on a roll now. But then he realised he wasn’t. He couldn’t think of any more.
Tania huffed.
“The wife, the sister, the daughter! All minor roles!” she said, dispirited, “I look forward to a school play with a strong female lead!”
“I tell you what, talk to Ms Robinson at the auditions. She’s adapting the story into a script so I’m sure she’ll make sure there’s plenty of good roles to be had for both sexes.”
Luke gave it some more thought. He liked the idea of being one of the spirits. The really scary one.
Mr Beardsley resumed writing on the board. Maths. Again. Luke pictured himself as the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. He’d have a long, black, hooded cape; his face would be painted white with black cavernous eyes; he’d have sharp talons for fingernails and …
“Luke. What’s next?”
Luke, brought abruptly from his reverie, had no idea what was being asked of him. His bewilderment was visible. Mr Beardsley banged the pen on the board to draw Luke’s attention to the sum written there.
“Four thousand, two hundred and seventy nine divided by twenty two. Long division. Max did the first part. What’s next?”
Luke shook his head. He really hated it when someone interrupted his train of thought. He was in the middle of something. What was it? He turned to ask Joe but Joe wasn’t there. Oh yes, the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, that was the part for him. Then he had another thought. If Joe was in it too they’d be together again. He wondered what part Joe would like. Mr Beardsley moved on to Katia. She didn’t know either.
*******************************
The story continues tomorrow but if you don’t want to wait you can read the whole chapter here now 🙂
**********************************
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Some calls may be recorded
For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter 12 continues from yesterday:
*******
“Oh no! He prob’ly dint tell no one he’d locked the sheep up without food ‘n’ water, and if he’s dead, no one’ll know they’re here, and they’ll starve to death!” His eyes were wide with alarm.
“Call the RSPCA!” said Joe suddenly, “this is cruelty to animals, lockin’ em up without food or water! The RSPCA’ll rescue ’em!”
“Yesss!” said Luke and the two of them rushed back to his house.
Luke found the number in the phone book and decided, for privacy, to use the phone in his mum’s bedroom. He put it on speaker so that Joe could hear. It rang for a few seconds before being answered by a recorded message.
“Thank you for calling the RSPCA. Please note some calls may be recorded for training and monitoring purposes. To proceed press 1 now.”
Luke pressed 1.
“Thank you. Please say your postcode.”
Luke was flummoxed.
“What’s my postcode?” he mouthed to Joe.
Joe shrugged.
The recording tried again.
“Please say your postcode out loud or key it into the keypad.”
Luke pressed some random keys.
“Thank you. Now please key in your house number.”
He pressed the seven and the one.
“Thank you. Your address is 71 Broomhill Drive, Glasgow, Scotland. If this is correct press 1; if this is incorrect press 2; press 3 to return to the main menu.”
Luke was exasperated. No, it wasn’t correct but he wasn’t going to tell them that or he’d have to start all over again. He pressed 1.
“Thank you. Now say your name out loud.”
“Robin Locksley.”
“Thank you. If you have called because of an animal in distress, please choose between the following options: If you’re worried about a dog in a hot car, press 1. If you’ve found an abandoned …”
Luke threw his head back in frustration.
“We ‘aven’t got time for this! Jus’ let me talk ta someone!”
“It’s a good job you’re not on a mobile,” Joe agreed, “Janet’s always runnin’ out of credit on hers.”
The machine listed several options before concluding with:
“For anything else, please hold for an operator.”
“Finally,” Luke mouthed and the ring tone began again. After a minute or so, a live person answered.
“Thank you for calling the RSPCA. How may I help you?”
“There’s some sheep locked in a muddy paddock with no food or water,” Luke told her.
“Are they in distress?”
“Wun’t you be distressed if you hadn’t eaten anythin’ for a whole day an’ night? Or drunken anythin’?”
“It’s only been one day?”
“And a night. More ‘n that now,” Luke said.
“Are they injured? Do they look like they’ve been abused or neglected.”
“Well, no, they don’t seem to be injured.”
“I’m sorry but I don’t think any of our inspectors will come out if they’re not injured or in distress.”
“They haven’t had anythin’ to drink or eat since yesterday! They’re really hungry and they’re locked in there! You’ve got to let ’em out!”
“I’m sorry. Perhaps you can ask the farmer to check on them. Do you know who the sheep belong to?”
“We think the farmer might be dead.”
“Who are you talking to?” Mum stood in the doorway.
Luke disconnected the call.
“Nobody. We was jus’ pretendin’,” he thought it best not to involve Mum.
“I heard a woman’s voice. Who were you talking to?” she persisted.
“Somebody. Don’t matter who.”
“I beg your pardon? You’re in my room, using my phone and I insist you tell me who you were speaking to!”
Luke looked momentarily at the floor and then back at her.
“Joe’s mum,” he lied again, “she said Joe could stay for tea. We’re goin’ to check on Curly and Squirt.”
Mrs Walker decided to pretend she believed him.
“Okay,” she consented, “back by six please. And in future, ask before you use the phone.”
While Mum stayed in her room to sort the laundry, Luke and Joe rushed downstairs.
“We’ll feed ’em ourselves!” Luke decided.
He handed a shopping bag to Joe and opened the fridge. Luckily, Mum had just been shopping.
“Take these,” he said, “and these, and these,” and he handed him about twenty carrots, two cucumbers, a cabbage, a lettuce and sixteen apples. The bag was heavy. Luke grabbed another one to share Joe’s burden and they left.
*******************************
The story continues tomorrow but if you don’t want to wait you can read the whole chapter here now 🙂
**********************************
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At the end of the day …
For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter 12 continues from last Friday:
*******
At the end of the day Luke couldn’t find Joe so he walked home alone feeling very sorry for himself. Then he saw something which took his mind off it. Across the road sheep were being rounded up with two dogs and a quad bike. They looked scared and tried to run in all directions but the dogs and the motorbike kept heading them off so that in the end they had no choice but to enter a fenced paddock at the edge of the field. Unlike the grassy field, this paddock was nothing but mud. There was nothing to eat and nothing to drink. Luke watched from the bus shelter as the quad bike rider locked the gate, ordered the dogs onto the back of the bike, and then rode away. When they were out of sight Luke went over to the sheep. There were thirty or forty of them who recoiled as he approached. Luke wanted to release them but wondered if he should. He couldn’t understand why the farmer would lock them in there like that without even a water trough, but maybe the sheep needed some medicine that had to be taken on an empty stomach. It would be wrong to act without knowing all the facts. He felt it best to come back and check on them later and decide then what to do.
***
Luke opened the back door, dropped his book bag on the kitchen floor, kicked off his shoes and reached for the biscuit tin.
“Erm, did you forget something?” said Mum, suddenly appearing from the pantry.
Luke stuck his feet back in his shoes and shuffled them out of the kitchen.
“Sohhy,” he said, his mouth full of gingernut.
“Don’t tread the heels down!” she reminded him wearily, “and that’s not what I meant.”
He looked back, confused, and then noticed his book bag.
“Sorry,” he said again, picked it up and started to walk away.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said again, in a sort of sing-songy tone of voice.
Luke stood still. He was tired. It had been a long day. Could she not just tell him what she meant? Did they have to go through this trial and error game every time? He turned to look at her.
“What?” he asked, “what did you mean?”
Mum gave him a look which meant he should modify his look. He did. Then she told him.
“Shouldn’t you ask before you take a biscuit?”
“Can I have a biscuit please?”
“You may have two biscuits,” she said smiling, “how was your first day back? Did you like your new teacher?”
Luke slumped into a chair in the dining room.
“He’s alright,” he said unenthusiastically.
“He? I thought you’d be with Ms Robinson this year.”
“Yeah. So did I.”
“So, how come you’re not? Who are you with? Mr Green?”
“No. A new one. Mr Beardsley.”
“Oh. What’s he like?”
Luke appreciated his mother’s interest but really wasn’t in the mood to recap the day’s events.
“He’s alright,” he said again, “I’ve got to do me homework,” and he lifted himself sluggishly from the chair and headed upstairs to cover his new books.
***
On Wednesday afternoon Luke was able to find Joe at the end of school.
“What’s it like in Muz Robinson’s class?” he asked jealously.
“‘s’alright,” said Joe.
Luke was surprised to get such a tepid response but realised that Joe was just being considerate, not wanting to rub it in. He appreciated that and gladly changed the subject.
“We need to go home by the main road,” he told his friend, “I’ve got to check on some sheep.”
When they got there Luke was very concerned to see they were just as he’d left them the day before.
“They must be so hungry,” he said, “and thirsty.”
The boys crossed the road. Joe was equally worried.
“We should let ’em back into the field,” he suggested, “there’s grass; and a water trough.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” said Luke, “but I can’t open the gate coz o’ the padlock.” He tugged pointlessly at the hardened steel lock. “Where’s the farmer got to? I thought he would ‘ave let ’em out by now.”
“P’rhaps he’s had an accident,” Joe said anxiously, “he might be dead!”
Luke hadn’t thought of that.
***********************************
The story continues tomorrow but if you don’t want to wait you can read the whole chapter here now 🙂
**********************************
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Not in Mrs Tebbut’s class anymore
For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter 12 continues from yesterday:
*******
Tuesday came around as it was bound to, and Luke found himself back at school. He was predictably annoyed about it but took solace in the fact that at least he wasn’t in Mrs Tebbut’s class anymore. Everyone knew Ms Robinson was the nicest teacher in school. She never sent anyone to the headmaster or made anyone stand in the corner or made anyone do extra homework when they had trouble doing the normal amount of homework. From what he’d heard, Luke felt sure she was the type of teacher who would sympathise with someone if they accidentally stapled their own finger. And she certainly wasn’t the type of teacher to make someone eat all their mushy peas just because they’d asked for a big portion when they couldn’t possibly have known they would be so salty.
At ten to nine he and the rest of class 5 were allowed to enter the classroom. There were a lot of unfamiliar faces and not enough desks or seats for everyone. Those who could, found seats, others sat on the desks while some, mostly the children Luke had never seen before, just stood around in huddles.
“I know there’s not enough seats,” said Thomas, Ms Robinson’s teaching assistant, “but bear with us. Ms Robinson and Mr Beardsley will be here in a minute and they’ll explain everything.”
“Who’s Mr Beardsley?” asked Katia.
“Ah, here he is. Mr Beardsley, meet Year 5.”
At that moment a tall, thin man with very short, sandy hair and glasses walked into the room. He wore a beige knitted waistcoat buttoned up over a white and beige checked shirt. Luke was a little concerned.
“Good morning everyone,” said the man, “I’m Mr Beardsley and I’ll be teaching some of you this year.”
“Where’s Muz Robinson?” shouted Kenny.
“She’s still talking to the Headmaster, she’ll be here in a moment.”
Luke and Joe stood against the back wall feeling rather uneasy. The room hummed with muffled mutterings. Nobody knew what was going on. A few minutes later Ms Robinson joined them.
“Sorry to keep you waiting class 5,” she said, “it’s all a bit last minute so I hope you’ll bear with us.”
“If they told us what needs bearin’ with, we might be able to,” whispered Luke.
Joe nodded. Ms Robinson explained.
“Little Greatoak Primary school has closed due to insufficient attendance. That is, the council has decided it’s too expensive to run a whole school when there are not enough pupils to fill it.”
Everyone was listening.
“So, all the children from Little Greatoak will be coming to school here from now on.” She looked around at the new faces. “Welcome to Gingham County Primary, we hope you’ll be very happy here.”
Luke, without understanding why, felt suddenly possessive of the school he’d never liked.
“Most classes have had the addition of three or four pupils,” Ms Robinson went on, “but Year 5 has been increased by twenty, making a class of fifty pupils which is far too many.”
Luke didn’t like the way this was going.
“So we’re going to have two Year 5 classes: Class 5A and Class 5B. I will take Class 5B and Mr Beardsley – who has also joined us from Little Greatoak – will take Class 5A.”
It could not truthfully be said that Luke was good at maths but even he was quick to work out that, since half of fifty was twenty five, at least some of his old class would not be in Ms Robinson’s group. Without realising it, he held his breath.
Mr Beardsley and Ms Robinson stood at the front of the class with open registers in their hands. Ms Robinson continued.
“Class 5B,” she said, “we will be moving to the new mobile classroom next to the playground. When I call your name, collect your bags and coats and wait for me in the cloakroom.”
Ms Robinson called the names on her register and, one by one, children left the room. Luke realised with horror that the division had been done alphabetically. Ms Robinson was taking the top of the alphabet. Those at the bottom were being left with Mr Beardsley. Joe Currant’s name was called. Luke Walker’s was not.
***
The story continues on Monday but if you don’t want to wait you can read the whole chapter here now 🙂
Have a lovely weekend 😀
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vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s stories, vegan children’s books, animals, animal rights, animal protection, animal rescue, vegan children, veggie kids, sheep, sheep farming
Tuvok knows best
For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter Twelve begins here:
Luke Walker and the new teacher
“Search everyone’s quarters on decks five to seven.”
“It’s nillogical to search deck six …”
“No, you don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Coz you’re Tom Paris.”
“Paris knows when things aren’t logical.”
“No he doesn’t. Paris don’t think like that.”
“But …”
“I’m Tuvok, you’re Paris,” Luke put his foot down, “say somethin’ like ‘no don’t search deck six coz it smells in there’.”
Joe shrugged.
“No, don’t search deck six, it smells in there coz that’s where Tuvok’s quarters is.”
“This is a serious situation Mr Paris! My quarters do not smell and even if they did it is nillogical to leave an entire deck out of the search. Search all quarters on decks five, six and seven. Now!”
“Luke, come downstairs please,” Mum called, “I want you to try on your new school uniform.”
Luke pulled a face. They would be back at school in three days and he had been trying not to think about it.
“Luuuke, now please.”
He reluctantly put down his tricorder and did as he was told. In the living room Mum had all his new clothes laid out on the settee. They looked horrible. Two pairs of grey trousers with a smart crease pressed down the front; four white shirts folded and pinned with cardboard under the collars; five pairs of grey socks; one black sweatshirt with the name of his school written in gold across the front; one black jumper, and new shoes. Luke looked suspiciously at the shoes.
“Are they leather? I’m not wearin’ cow skin,” he insisted.
“I know they look like it but they’re not,” Mum assured him, “look.”
She showed him the label inside and Luke was satisfied that they were made of synthetic materials.
“If they can make shoes what look like leather and feel like leather and do the same job as leather without bein’ leather, why do they keep killin’ cows?”
“Beats me,” said Mum, she really didn’t have time to get into it right now. “Okay, try these on. If they don’t fit I’ll have to take them straight back and change them.”
Luke tried it all on and everything fitted perfectly. Mum had a knack for choosing the right size which she was very glad about because it meant she didn’t have to take him with her when she went shopping.
“Oh, you do look smart,” she said proudly.
Luke scowled.
“I don’t like this,” he said, pulling at the black jumper, “it’s itchy. What’s it made of?”
“Wool.”
“Sheep’s wool?”
“Lamb’s wool act…, oh Luke, don’t start. Taking the wool doesn’t hurt the lamb, they have to have it sheared so they don’t get too hot. It’s just like when you have your hair cut. That doesn’t hurt does it?”
“How do you know? Have you ever seen a sheep bein’ sheared? Or a lamb? I don’t think Squirt would like it.”
Mum looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath.
“Luke, you need a warm jumper for school. Honestly, it doesn’t hurt them to have their hair cut.”
Luke didn’t know what to think. He supposed there could be no harm if the sheep did need to have their wool cut off; if they didn’t want it themselves. He decided to let it go for now, but he would have to find out more about it before making a final decision. He tossed the jumper onto the settee and ran back upstairs. He wanted Joe’s opinion.
Joe wasn’t sure.
“When Janet doesn’t know somethin’ she looks it up on the computer,” he said, “p’rhaps we should do that.”
“I bro…, erm, Dad’s computer doesn’t work anymore and Jared won’t let me use his. Can we borra Janet’s?”
Joe laughed and shook his head. Luke was stumped.
“We’ll ‘ave to investigate it ourselves,” he said eventually, “I’m not wearin’ that jumper ’til I know for sure it’s not hurtin’ anybody.”
************************
Chapter 12 continues tomorrow 🙂
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“Quickly! Before they see you!”
For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂
For the whole of Chapter 11 click here 🙂
Chapter 11 continued from yesterday:
The police car was between him and the officers so he kept his head down and crept up to the rear door. He tried the handle. Nothing happened. He tried it again. It should have opened. He’d seen Dad do it a hundred times. A car’s back doors were only locked on the inside. The black-haired lady looked out the window, shook her head and spoke almost inaudibly.
“What are you doing? Go away! Quickly! Before they see you!”
Luke didn’t listen. He was determined to rescue her. This lady was a righteous warrior like himself; a fighter for justice; a fellow animal stick up for-er. He would rescue her or die in the attempt. He tried the door again. It clicked open. It was like dad’s car!
At that moment the ice cream van pulled up between the police car and the police officers, thus enlightening the black-haired lady on the reason for her arrest. The ice cream seller leaned out his window to talk to the officers.
“Get out! Quick!” Luke urged the lady.
The two of them ran as fast as they could back into the market and out the other side towards the trees. When they reached cover they slumped down behind the trees and caught their breath.
“I’m sorry I got you in trouble Jessica,” said Luke. The lady grinned.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Luke.”
“Not Luke Walker by any chance?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“They’ve been calling your name on the Tannoy for the last hour and a half.”
“Oh yeah, that’s why I had to hide.”
The lady laughed.
“Oh, it all makes sense now. It wasn’t the police, it was your family trying to find you.”
Realisation flickered across Luke’s features.
“Oh,” he said, feeling a little guilty for forgetting about Nan and Grandad. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble,” he apologised again.
“Hey, listen, getting blamed for what you did won’t do my reputation any harm at all,” the lady said with a chuckle. Luke smiled.
“Anyway,” she went on, “I’m free and clear now. Thanks for rescuing me.”
Luke looked at the lady and thought she could be trusted.
“Would you like to join my secret society?” he asked.
“I like the sound of that! Especially if this is the kind of stuff your secret society gets up to!”
“Good,” said Luke, “there’s on’y me an’ Joe so far but that’s good coz no one else knows about it. So don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t,” the lady agreed.
“Nobody.”
“I won’t,” she laughingly assured him.
“How will I get in touch with you?” Luke asked.
The lady took a pen out of her pocket and wrote a phone number on the back of Luke’s hand.
“Any time, day or night, you can reach me on that number,” she said, standing up, “and my name’s Kris.” She smiled at his mild confusion. “I’d better get out of here before they start searching the woods. Will you be alright? Will you be able to find your people?”
“Yeah.”
“Go to the organisers’ table, they’ll be able to get hold of them for you.”
Luke wasn’t sure.
“Don’t worry, the police aren’t looking for you. It’s safe. Go and find your people,” she urged him and then she started away, going deeper into the trees.
“Oh, don’t forget your jacket,” Luke called after her.
“Keep it,” she said, smiling, and left.
Luke walked back through the market to the organisers’ table and informed them that he was Luke Walker. Nan’s mobile was called and she and Grandad were there to fetch him in next to no time. Nan ran at him, hugged him and then smacked his bum.
“You horrible boy! Why would you do this to us? We’ve been worried sick! Where have you been?”
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “I was jus’ shoppin’ and I lost track of time.”
“Shopping! You weren’t supposed to go off by yourself! You were supposed to stay with us! You knew th…”
“What did you buy?” Grandad interrupted.
Luke looked at him and thought for a moment.
“A wheelbarra …” he said, turning full circle to look for it. And there it was, lying on its side, just a few metres away. “This one,” he added, going to fetch it.
“And a jacket by the look of it,” said Nan, a little calmer now.
“Oh yeah,” Luke smiled, “and a jacket.”
Come back tomorrow for Chapter 12 😀
**************************************************
Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (the first eight chapters); More Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (chapters nine to sixteen); and Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er: my privut notebook are available from Amazon in the UK, Europe, the USA and Canada 🙂 but if you’d prefer to mail order them through us, get in touch 😀
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Panic and retreat
For the stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter 11 continued from yesterday:
Luke stood still, his face flushed hot.
“They know!” he thought with horror.
It got worse. He watched as two police officers walked up to the organisers’ table. After a few moments a man there pointed in Luke’s direction. The police officers started to walk towards him. He ran. All he could think was that he needed to get out of there. They might know his name but would they know his address? He didn’t look behind, that would be suspicious, he just ran as fast as he could. The wheelbarrow was slowing him down. He had to leave it.
He climbed the low post and rail fence and jumped down into the car park. His first instinct was to find Grandad’s car, but then he thought that if they knew his name, they might know who his grandparents were, they might be waiting for him there. He hesitated, crouched between a Mini and a Fiesta, and tried to see Grandad’s car without being seen. Yes, that was it, and there was Grandad. With another policeman.
There was nothing for it, he had to go back into the market, he had to try to be invisible in the crowd. But he was scared and wanted an ally. He made a beeline for the black-haired lady’s stall.
The lady, who was just beginning to pack up her stall, putting leaflets back in their boxes, was surprised to see Luke racing towards her, all red in the face and out of breath, looking like he feared for his life.
“Hide me!” said Luke desperately, and sunk to the floor behind the biggest box.
The lady was alarmed.
“What’s wrong? What are you …?”
“Shhh!” said Luke in a vehement whisper, “don’t talk to me! Don’t look at me! They might be watching!”
“But …”
“Excuse me Miss,” another woman’s voice interrupted her. She turned to face a policewoman.
“Is this your stall?” she asked.
“Yes it is.”
“And your name is?”
“Jessica Rabbit. Would you like a leaflet?”
“I would like to have a look, yes, thank you,” and the policewoman began to paw the various piles. “Is this all you’ve got?”
The black-haired lady casually dropped her jacket on top of Luke as another officer stepped around the stall to look in the boxes.
“I’ve got these as well,” she answered, “as you can see,” and she lifted the boxes onto the table so that they wouldn’t need to rummage around the other side.
The policewoman found what she was looking for – three different anti-dairy leaflets.
“Is there any reason you were hiding these?” she asked.
The lady laughed.
“I wasn’t hiding them, I was just in the process of packing up,” she explained.
The police officers exchanged cynical glances and while the male picked up the box of leaflets, the female addressed the stall-holder.
“I am arresting you on suspicion of offences under section 1 of the Criminal Damage Act 1971. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?”
“Not remotely,” the lady replied, “what am I supposed to have done?”
Luke stayed motionless under the lady’s jacket. He felt bad that she was getting blamed for what he’d done, but was somehow unable to move or speak. He just sat still until he couldn’t hear them any more. He waited till they’d gone.
When he stood up and watched them retreat past the other stalls, seemingly diminished in size, his courage returned. He donned the khaki jacket, pulled the hood over his head and cautiously followed. The officers and their captive approached a police car and the policewoman opened a rear door, put her hand on the black-haired lady’s head and assisted her into the back seat.
Luke was worried they would drive away before he could get to them but luck was on his side again. Another policeman with a camera called to his colleagues and they walked a few steps away from the car to talk to him. That was Luke’s chance.
*******************************
Story concludes tomorrow, or read the whole of chapter 11 now 🙂
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vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s book, books, children’s books, juvenile fiction, veggie kids, vegan children, animals, cows, animal farming, animal rights
Strong and determined
For the stories so far click here 🙂
Chapter 11 continued from Friday:
With a wheelbarrow full of three different leaflets which told the truth about the dairy industry, Luke headed for the car park. The wheelbarrow was heavy and the cars were parked quite close together on uneven ground, so it was rather difficult to stop the barrow from tipping. But Luke was strong and determined so he only lost control of it a couple of times, and on those occasions the cars he grazed were already scratched anyway. He put one leaflet under a wiper blade, on the windscreen of each car. He’d seen it done before with car-wash flyers in the supermarket car park.
Some wipers were easy to lift, some of them required a bit of force, a couple of them came off, but when that happened he was luckily able to find a window or a sunroof open so he tossed the leaflet inside. Considerate as always, he tossed the wiper blade in with it.
After some time – he had no idea how much – Luke had leafleted most of the cars in the car park. He had intended not to miss a single one but when he saw an angry man, waving a wiper blade, fast approaching his position, he decided that discretion was the better part of valour and retreated behind the long queues for the portaloos. He had almost half a box of leaflets left and wanted to use them. It wasn’t long before he found an opportunity.
The ice cream van was parked close to the line of trees which skirted the market. It was doing a roaring trade. Luke felt that it wouldn’t do any trade at all if there was any justice in the world. He was sure it wouldn’t if everyone knew the truth. That thought gave him an idea. This idea, he was well aware, was not, strictly speaking, legal. But it was moral and that meant he was right to do it. He would do what Robin Hood would have done, whatever the consequences. He was an outlaw after all.
He left his wheelbarrow in the shadows behind the trees and ran back to a craft stall he’d seen earlier. The lady on the craft stall was demonstrating how to make paper maché models. She was doing the ‘here’s one I made earlier’ bit, revealing a stiff, hollow, paper pig ready for a coat of paint. The tub of wallpaper paste that she’d been using in an earlier part of her demonstration was tucked away under her stall.
“I jus’ need to borra a bit,” Luke told himself, “I’ll bring it back before she misses it.”
Within minutes he was pasting leaflets all over one side of the ice cream van, unseen by the ice cream seller or his treat-seeking customers who stood in line on the other side. He worked fast, knowing he might be spotted and stopped at any moment. At the same time he was encouraged by a feeling that some great spirit was watching over him, enabling him to complete his mission unhindered. The spirit of Robin Hood? It couldn’t just have been luck that he’d been able to get his hands on exactly what he needed for this job. The label on the side of the tub of paste read:
MELROSE WHEATPASTE
suitable for paper maché, scrapbooking
wallpaper application & billboard posters
NON TOXIC * STRONG * DRIES TRANSPARENT
WARNING: WHEATPASTE POSTERS, ONCE APPLIED, ARE DIFFICULT TO REMOVE.
It couldn’t have been more perfect. Luke fearlessly pasted over colourful illustrations of lollipops, ice cream cones, and a happy cartoon cow who bore no resemblance to her real-life counterparts. The van’s lies were soon obliterated by pages of facts and figures about the cruel reality of dairy farming, including miserable photographic proof. When the side of the van was completely covered in leaflets, as high as Luke could reach, he stepped back to see the full effect. It was good.
Unable to believe how well this was going, Luke slipped unseen, back the way he’d come. He re-emerged from behind the line of trees when he reached the craft stall and returned the paste. Then he tucked the remaining four leaflets in his back pocket and pushed his empty wheelbarrow from stall to stall, looking for Nan and Grandad. He looked for ages until eventually he came close to the organisers’ table and heard his own name over the Tannoy.
“Would Luke Walker please go to the ice cream van. Would Luke Walker please go to the ice cream van, near the car park and the toilets.”
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Story continues tomorrow 🙂
To read the whole of Chapter 11 now, click here 🙂
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vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s book, books, children’s books, juvenile fiction, veggie kids, vegan children, animals, cows, animal farming, animal rights
Way of the world
For chapters 1 to 10 click here 🙂
Chapter 11 continued from yesterday:
He smiled broadly as he considered how fortuitous this outing had turned out to be; how lucky it was that this week of all weeks he’d needed a wheelbarrow.
***
Nan and Grandad loved to go to car boot sales, antique fairs and flea markets. They would drive for miles to get to them and rarely a Sunday went by without Nan acquiring a ‘new’ old plant pot, or handbag, or garden bench, or record or book or who knows what. So, when Luke decided he needed a few tools for his allotment – a rake, a bucket or two, and a wheelbarrow – he asked Mum to ask Nan if he could go with them that weekend. She said yes, as long as he behaved himself and didn’t eat or drink anything in Grandad’s car, or put his feet on the seats.
“Will she ever get over the chocolate biscuit/chewing gum incident?” he thought. “It wasn’t even my gum – it had got stuck on my shoe because of a dropper and the chocolate crumbs … ”
Anyway, he promised to be good, and it was arranged.
Six days later, Luke was sitting in the back of Grandad’s car; seatbelt on; feet on the floor; no food or drink whatsoever. They turned into a farm lane and drove past a field of grazing cows, one of whom had a baby with her. They waited in a long queue of cars approaching the flea market and Luke was able to watch mother and baby for a few minutes.
He could see how attentive the mother was to her baby and how the baby followed his mother wherever she went. It was nice to watch. Then he saw two farmers with a wheelbarrow walk over to them and lift the baby into it. The baby cried out for his mum and the mum tried to get to her baby but one of the farmers obstructed her so that the other one could wheel the barrow away. He walked briskly, almost breaking into a run to get to the gate as quickly as possible and the mother cow hurried after them, calling all the time to her baby and him calling back to her. The farmer with the wheelbarrow got through the gate and closed it and the other one climbed the fence. They put the calf into a trailer and drove away in the Land Rover that towed it, along the track that bordered the field, until they got to the road and were soon out of sight. The whole time the mother cow was running along the edge of the field, trying to keep up with them, calling for her baby. When the trailer was out of sight she just stood at the fence and called and called, a most miserable, pining sound, as she watched the direction in which they’d fled, pleading for her baby’s return.
“Where are they takin’ ‘im? Are they gonna bring ‘im back?” Luke desperately asked his grandparents.
“What love?” said Nan. She hadn’t been watching.
“The baby cow! They took ‘im away from ‘is mum! Why did they do that? When will they bring ‘im back?”
“They won’t,” said Grandad, matter-of-factly.
“What?! Why not?” Luke demanded.
“The farmer keeps cows for their milk. He needs to sell as much milk as possible so he can’t have the calves drinking his profits can he? He’s got to make a living. Way of the world Luke, you might as well get used to it.”
Luke was outraged. He’d known instinctively that it wasn’t right to steal a cow’s milk and was certain it couldn’t be natural to drink it if you weren’t a baby cow, but he’d had no idea that farmers actually kidnapped babies away from their mothers; that a mother who’d done nothing wrong, who was giving him her milk, was not even allowed to keep the baby who made the milk possible. And the baby – what would happen to the baby?
“Does everybody know this? Does everybody know what the horrible farmer is doin’?” Luke felt that surely people wouldn’t buy the milk if they knew.
“He’s not horrible Luke,” Nan tried to explain, “cows are not people, they don’t have the same feelings and emotional attachments that we have.”
“Yes they do! Din’t you see? Din’t you see ’em together? They love each other!”
“Luke,” Nan answered quietly, “the farmer’s got to earn …”
“I could earn a livin’ stealin’ other people’s jewel’ry and sellin’ it to someone else, but if I did that you’d tell me off!”
“It’s not the same …”
“Too right it’s not the same coz I wun’t be kidnappin’ someone’s baby!”
While Luke fumed Grandad reached the car park and they all got out of the car. Luke couldn’t stop thinking about the cow baby and the cow mum crying for each other. He trailed slowly behind his grandparents, very unhappy in the realisation that this was the way of the world and there was nothing he could do about it, not really, not for that baby or that mum.
“Grown ups always say ‘you must be good’, ‘you must be kind’ and then they do things what they know is unkind,” Luke mumbled frustratedly to himself, “they don’t follow their own rules, so they can’t expect me to follow ’em. They should follow my rules – mine make more sense, mine do what they say instead of just say and not do!”
And so, as he railed against the world, he wandered away from his grandparents and browsed the stalls alone. He wasn’t worried. He’d find them later.
*******************************
Story continues on Monday 🙂
To read the whole of Chapter 11 now, click here 🙂
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vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s book, books, children’s books, juvenile fiction, veggie kids, vegan children, animals, cows, animal farming, animal rights
Quick! The animals need you!
If you’re a UK resident, Compassion in World Farming needs your help.
By current European law, animals are recognised as sentient beings, acknowledging their ability to feel pain, suffer and also experience joy. No one who has seen a cow going outside for the first time after a winter indoors, a hen dust bathing, or a pig wallowing in a fresh patch of mud would disagree with that. The law says that as animals are sentient beings, full regard must be given to their welfare when creating new legislation or regulations.
Securing this status for animals was a massive step forward for animal welfare in 1997. It was the biggest campaign Compassion has ever run. The recognition of animals as complex and intelligent creatures has been the cornerstone of European animal welfare legislation since that time, and the basis for so much of the progress we have made together.
But now, there’s Brexit!
A Handsome Fellow
Here is the fellow
I met yesterday,
I don’t know his name,
He didn’t say.
But he was so handsome,
So elegant was he,
I quietly admired him,
Or was he a she?
****************
Can somebody tell me – is he a partridge? And is he a he or a she?
Such a beauty 😀
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bird, birds, animals, wild animals, wildlife, garden, garden birds, poem, poetry
Animal Sanctuary Poem Week: Day 5
Raystede Centre for Animal Welfare
The Broyle, Ringmer, East Sussex, BN8 5AJ, UK
Tel: (01825) 840252
e: info@raystede.org
Today I saw some horrible men
Who were happy in their pursuit
Of rabbits with their tiny dogs
Who were sent down the holes by the brutes.
These horrible men, these are the type
Who work at the pig farm or kill shed.
They hang and they slash, they pluck and they chop,
And afterwards sleep sound in their beds.
And while they sleep, these horrible men,
Some nice people smile and are friendly.
At their fundraiser for a good cause
They eat ham rolls and beef ravioli.
Horrible men, paid by the masses,
To torture and batter and kill.
The coins in those brutal, blood-stained hands
Are from Raystede’s blood-stained till.
I’m so sorry to have to write such a sad poem when we were in such a happy place looking at the other sanctuaries this week, but for the animals’ sake I have to draw your attention to this again.
It’s true that there are many animal charities which confine themselves to working for just one, or a couple of species – eg Cats’ Protection, Dogs Trust – but Raystede never used to be one of these.
Their website used to display the slogan: “We believe that every animal has the right to health, happiness and freedom from suffering” but since this campaign started they have taken it down.
Raystede was started in the 1950’s by a woman, born in 1902, who had convictions and compassion as strong as those of the other sanctuary hosts we’ve met this week. She described herself as a ‘non-meat eater’ and, as she reiterated again and again, cared about ALL animals, without exception. Miss M Raymonde-Hawkins wrote in her book Sensible Pets and Silly People,
“My own view, and that of every decent minded person, is that no animal should be caused to suffer at all for any reason.”
and
“Too often our entertainment, our food, our clothing and so-called sport are all at the expense of animals and a civilised society in years to come will look back with horror at the way that we have exploited animals during this century.”
She concluded her book with:
“Those of us who have grown old in the work and who have so little to encourage us for the future welfare of animals can at least only hope that having carried the banner so far, we can, in falling, fling it to the hosts behind to carry on the work and hope that they will be more successful than we have been during this century.”
She died in 1998 and the “hosts behind” dropped the banner.
They betrayed her.
They betrayed the animals.
Roll up your sleeves guys, looks like this is gonna take a while.
Let’s Shawshank them!
We can do this.
For as long as it takes.
For the sake of back-to-front Grace and Archie No-Tail in Hugletts’ video, and all the billions of others, please join this campaign and tell Raystede to make their cafe vegan.
Write a letter a week (or email or phone call) until Raystede stops serving the products of animal cruelty.
Until they stop instigating unspeakable suffering.
Thank you so much.
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
Raystede Centre for Animal Welfare
The Broyle,
Ringmer,
East Sussex,
BN8 5AJ,
UK
Tel: (01825) 840252
e: info@raystede.org
Animal Sanctuary Poem Week: Day 4
Frettenham, Norfolk
Wendy Valentine’s amazing
Her firey compassion don’t stop blazing.
Her sanct’ry is home to many a horse,
It goes without saying, she’s vegan of course!
There’s chickens and ducks and budgies and turkeys,
And sheep and cows and llamas and donkeys.
There’s rabbits and emus, alpacas and deer,
There’s even some chipmunks and goats live here.
But rescuing’s not all that Hillside does,
They also investigate farms because
They need to make public the horror that’s hidden
Behind the farm gates of those animal prisons.
❤ 🙂 ❤
Hillside is now home to over 3000 animals and is one of the UK’s most successful campaigning organisations for the animals’ cause. They have always known that one of the main reasons animals are left to suffer in factory farms is because people have little or no idea about the immense cruelty involved in their food production.
Animal Sanctuary Poem Week: Day 3
East Peckham, Tonbridge, Kent
Marion and Mark made FRIEND
And such good friends they are,
To pigs and goats and cows and sheep
And turkeys and geese and more.
They give a gift to Death Row souls
The best gift they could give:
Forever freedom in paradise,
Now they can really live.
And they do more, they do for sure,
Showing how to go vegan, they teach.
They strive for a world where FRIEND’s needed no more,
To help future souls they can’t reach.
❤ 🙂 ❤
On a beautiful 10 acre site nestled in between the orchards and hop farms of rural Kent, established in 1994 with the purchase of a small lamb at a livestock market, FRIEND is a working animal sanctuary with around 100 former farm animals and companion animals. Animals find their way there in all sorts of ways. Some are rescued from places of abuse, some arrive following the death of their guardian. Some despicable people abandon their animals by throwing them over the fence. No matter how they get there, they are all welcome to live the rest of their lives as naturally as possible with little human interaction.
FRIEND provides a no kill, free roaming (as far as possible and safe) home to cows, sheep, goats, chickens, ducks, geese and turkeys. Their 30+ pigs live in their own paddock with wallows. Some of their cats are feral and some are house dwellers. All of their dogs love walking in the meadow.
Promoting veganism is an important part of what they do. They are pleased to meet supporters at their summer open days and introduce them to the animals, who are of course the best ambassadors for a cruelty free life. They do ask that no one brings dogs with them on their visit, as the sanctuary’s residents are free roaming.
They rely solely on donations from the public and put on events to raise money. Financial donations are spent on food, bedding, essential equipment and veterinary bills.
Animal Sanctuary Poem Week: Day 2
Hugletts Wood Farm Animal Sanctuary
Dallington, East Sussex
Imagine a place where cows can live
Their whole lives out in peace.
They’re rescued from the dairy hell
But now live free from cheese.
Big and strong and vulnerable
They’re right where they should be,
A home of love with Wenda and Matt,
They’re even pleased to meet you and me.
Hugletts Wood is a vegan farm,
They grow vegetables and fruits.
The sale of these provides the funds
For their compassionate pursuits.
❤ 🙂 ❤
Hugletts Wood Farm provides sanctuary to cows and their friends. A home for life to farm animals and birds, rescued from the misery of the meat and dairy industry and the horrors of the slaughterhouse.
Hugletts Wood farm is the only farm animal sanctuary in the UK that operates a dedicated Cow Protection Program. It is also the only vegan farm in the UK that runs such a sanctuary.
They try to self-fund as much as possible, growing vegetables and fruits and producing a whole range of woodland products and natural Ahimsa compost but always welcome your support in whatever form it may take!
Animal Sanctuary Poem Week: Day 1
Tower Hill Stables
Asheldham , Essex
Fiona Oakes and Martin,
They’re such a funny pair.
Like vegan superheroes
They’re running here and there.
At Tower Hills, their sanct’ry,
They never seem to stop.
They have so many rescues,
They work until they drop.
So look them up and you’ll see
The lovelies in their care,
And help them if you can please,
When you’ve got a bit to spare.
❤ 😀 ❤
The Tower Hill Stables team are currently trying to raise money to build a new enclosure for the poultry because of DEFRA rules that they have to be kept in over winter to prevent bird flu and they’ve been lucky enough to find a generous benefactor who has promised to match whatever they can raise towards this build. So, if you donate, say £10, the sanctuary will get £20! A great opportunity but it’s a limited time offer and the appeal must end 31st December 2017. Do help if you can 😀
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vegan, vegetarian, athlete, vegan athlete, animal sanctuary, animals, animal rescue, marathon running, marathon running.
Miss Mabel Raymonde-Hawkins
This wonderful woman, who sadly died in 1998, was a life-long advocate for animals. She writes in her book Sensible Pets and Silly People, referring to activities with her childhood friend when she was 5 years old: “… I do not think there was any crime we would not commit for an animal. We were always prepared to do anything we could to reduce the sufferings of any animals that came our way …” She went on to found Raystede Centre for Animal Welfare , in the 1950s I believe, and tirelessly continued as she had begun – saving all the animals who needed her.
The day she died was a great tragedy for animals because those left in charge of Raystede have betrayed her legacy by serving meat, fish, eggs and dairy in their café – something she would never have allowed. How do I know that? Read this (another excerpt from her book):
“Too often our entertainment, our food, our clothing and so-called sport are all at the expense of animals and a civilised society in years to come will look back with horror at the way that we have exploited animals …. Things have gone wrong. Things have got worse. The sparrows go on falling. The sheep go on suffering and it is time many more of us did much more about it … We must be less cautious, we must forge ahead with less timidity and decide that all cruelty should be punished and eliminated. …. Those of us who have grown old in the work and who have so little to encourage us for the future welfare of animals can at least hope that having carried the banner so far, we can, in falling, fling it to the hosts behind to carry on the work and hope that they will be more successful than we have been during this century.”
Heartbreakingly the hosts behind have dropped the banner and let her down horribly.
How dare they? How dare they betray her life’s work? How dare they betray the animals? How dare they do it in Raystede’s name?
Every time someone signs the petition to make Raystede’s café vegan, the CEO, Nigel Mason gets an email. Get everyone you know, and everyone you don’t know to sign it. Even better, write to the president (who worked there when Miss Raymonde-Hawkins was there incidentally) and tell him what you think of their betrayal. Tell him to make that café vegan! I know I can count on you. Thank you ❤
Raystede’s President:
Morgan Williams,
29 Hamilton Court,
The Strand,
Brighton Marina Village,
Brighton,
East Sussex,
BN2 5XD
Please Help With This Petition To Get Raystede To Go Vegan!
Tried to reblog this post but the button won’t load and time is running out on the library computer! So please go over to Maud Earnshaw’s site and read this post – it’s so important! If we have any chance of making a better world it starts with well-respected animal welfare organisations recognising the suffering of farm animals and promoting veganism.
Sign the petition to MAKE RAYSTEDE’S ANIMAL SANCTUARY CAFE VEGAN! NOW!!!!
She said, he said …
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So she told him, “going vegan would solve your bovine TB problem. Leave the badgers alone and grow carrots!”
“Ooh, and what did he say?”
“Nothing yet, he can’t think of an answer.”
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vegan, vegan growing, vegan farming, cows, animals, badgers, food, health, vegan cartoon, vegan comic, vegetarian, plant food
Press Conference
For the whole story click here 🙂
The End. For now 😉
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Right, that’s that taken care of, now we’re going to watch the new Wonder Woman film, maybe we’ll see Renee there 😉
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
Quick! Switch the telly on!
For the story so far click here 🙂
Story concludes tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
Feeling better?
For the story so far click here 🙂
continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
Who are The Overseers?
For the story so far click here 🙂
…. continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero, The Pretenders – Chain Gang
Cull extended
For the story so far click here 🙂
… story continues on Monday 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
NEWS NEWS NEWS
For the story so far click here 🙂
…. continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
Wait!!!
For the story so far click here 🙂
…. continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
Call me
For the story so far click here 🙂
42 minutes later …
…. continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
8.27
For the story so far click here 🙂
…. continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
Go Home!
For the story so far click here 🙂
continues Monday 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero,
Earning a living
For the story so far click here 🙂
to be continued …
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero, vegan cafe, vegan food
Mwps Ip Den
For the story so far click here 🙂
continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, bovine TB, badger cull, dairy farming, vegan superhero, vegan cafe, vegan food
Vegan Hippo
For the story so far click here 🙂
continues tomorrow 🙂
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While you’re waiting, check out Vegan Hippo (it’s a real place don’t ya know) 😀
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, London, Westminster, Natural England, bovine TB, badger cull, farming, vegan superhero, vegan cafe, vegan food
“Got ‘im!”
For the story so far click here 🙂
continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, London, Westminster, Natural England, bovine TB, badger cull, farming, vegan superhero
Suit yourself!
For the first five episodes click here 🙂
Episode six continues:
continues Monday 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, London, Westminster, Natural England, bovine TB, badger cull, farming,
Sigh
For the first five episodes click here 🙂
Episode six continues:
continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, vegan comic, vegan comic for children, veggie kids, vegan children, vegetarian, animals, badgers, vegan, illustration, comic, children’s comic, children’s story, London, Westminster, Natural England
Violet's Vegan Comics 