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18 March 2027
Prime Minister mobilises British troops.
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Berkodd Mildews turkey farm, Norfolk, UK
07:51 GMT
Dickie Dumbman Dairies, Lincolnshire, UK
07:51 GMT
Ball’s pig farm, Cambridgeshire, UK
07:51 GMT
Ixford University labs, UK
07:51 GMT
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Pushminkski fur farm, near Volokolamsk, Russia
11:32 HRS MSK (07:32 GMT)
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Zhang bear bile farm, Sichuan Province, China
15:17 HRS CST (07:17 GMT)
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Wookiburra Sheep Station, Victoria, Australia
18:03 HRS EDT (07:03 GMT)
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16 March 2027 British Brain Foundation (registered charity) releases latest pamphlet detailing their research into cures for human dementia.
16:42 HRS Ixford University labs, UK.
Lab tech Vicky Crass collects mice for analysis
16 March 2027 Professor Miriam Goode’s website goes largely unnoticed.
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10:13 HRS Ball’s Pig Farm, Cambridgeshire, UK
Mother and son, Kevin and Mary Ruth, protest outside.
14:13 HRS Offal Inc. abattoir, Hampshire UK
Activists protest against perceived cruelty
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Chapter 24 continues from last week:
As soon as the red car turned out of the cul-de-sac Luke ran home to get his rucksack. He grabbed harnesses and leads from the hook in the kitchen and tossed them to Joe.
“Can you put these on Curly and Squirt?” Dudley started barking and wagging his tail. “Sorry boy, not this time.” He hitched his heavy rucksack onto his back and returned to the garden for the sheep. He was in such a hurry he didn’t close the door properly and Dudley followed him out.
Joe handed Luke the leads. “Are you sure about this?”
“Got no choice,” he said sadly, “gotta keep Curly and Squirt safe.” Dudley jumped up and pleaded to go with them.
“Not this time boy, I’m sorry.” He crouched down to give his dog a hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. Look after Scratcher for me okay?” Dudley licked his knee. Luke looked at Joe. “Stay in touch on the walkie-talkies.”
He led Dudley back into the kitchen and closed the door properly, but before he could make his getaway, he heard Dad’s car.
“They’re home!” He snatched up the leads and looked frantically for somewhere to hide.
“The garage!” said Joe.
Thankfully the side door wasn’t locked but getting them all in was easier said than done. Partially blocking the doorway was some kind of large structure, covered in an old sheet. They heard Mum and Dad’s voices; they heard the gate hinges squeak. There was nothing they could do but give up. Luke tucked his rucksack behind the rose bush just as his parents entered the garden.
“Oh, you’ve seen it!” said Mum, disappointed.
“Seen what?”
“He hasn’t,” said Dad, peering over their heads through the open door, “it’s still covered.”
Luke looked back at the mysterious structure. “What?”
Mum and Dad smiled at each other and then at Luke. “Happy Birthday.”
Luke looked at Joe. He’d completely forgotten.
“Happy Birthday Luke,” said Joe with a big grin.
“Did you remember?”
“No,” he laughed.
Luke looked back at his parents, “but it’s not my birthday ’til tomorrow. Is it?”
“No, but we thought we’d do it today because I’ve got to work tomorrow. Is Jared home?”
“Yeah, he’s upstairs.”
“I’ll get him,” said Mum.
“I’ll get the stuff out the car,” said Dad.
“Presents from Aunt Clara?” asked Luke. He was surprised because Aunt Clara usually just sent a card.
“Not exactly,” said Dad as he disappeared through the open gate.
Luke didn’t know what to think.
When everyone was back, Dad put two boxes on the ground in front of him. “Happy Birthday Luke,” he said again, and stood back. “Open them.”
Luke stepped forward and did as he was told. Inside each box were two red hens. He stared at them in disbelief. “But you said no.”
“I had to,” said Mum, “we wanted it to be a surprise.”
The chickens climbed out of their boxes and one of them chased Dudley back into the kitchen.
“And that’s not all,” said Dad. “Marian, Jared, Joe, follow me please.”
Joe looked at Luke, shrugged and then followed the rest of them into the garage. Luke removed the sheep’s harnesses and crouched down to introduce himself to the new chickens.
“Try to herd them to the bottom of the garden,” said Mum, “I’m opening the gate wide.”
Luke did his best but with little success. He could get one to head in the right direction, but as soon as he returned for another the first one would run back towards the house. As it turned out, though, that didn’t matter. What happened next sent them all running towards the damson patch at top speed, closely followed by Curly and Squirt. Through the wide open gate came four people slowly carrying a large, wooden triangular prism. They bent their knees and lowered it onto the concrete base vacated by the old greenhouse.
“It’s a chicken house!” said Mum excitedly, “Dad made it.”
“You made it?” Luke was overwhelmed. “All by yourself?”
Dad laughed. “Yes. It took me a while but, yes, all by myself.”
“It’s marvellous,” said Luke, walking around the new house, running his hand along the smooth wood. “Absolutely marvellous.”
“Glad you approve,” said Dad. He looked at Mum and smiled.
“Thanks Dad,” said Luke warmly. “I love it!”
“Can we see inside?” asked Mum.
“Yes. Okay. You unbolt these and then you use these handles to lift this off.” Dad detached one end of the house so that a person could climb inside if he crouched. “These shelves are the nesting boxes – you fill them with soft wood shavings – and they can perch on the front of them when they go to bed. They’ll be able to see out the window from there.” Dad was proud of the house, Luke could tell. “Put shavings on the floor as well and then it’ll be easy to sweep out in the mornings.”
“Easy,” Luke agreed.
“When it’s all clean you put the end back on by slotting it in like this. Here, you have a go.”
Luke tried but it was too heavy.
“That’s alright, I’ll help you,” Mum promised.
“And then, when that’s bolted back on, you leave the hatch open all day so the chickens can come and go as they please. Close it at night when they’ve gone to bed to keep predators out.”
Luke nodded. “I will.” He couldn’t stop grinning.
“Now, about Curly and Squirt,” said Dad, and Luke’s face fell. “I’ve spoken to Fred and you were right, they can’t go back to the allotments.” Luke held his breath. “So they’ll have to stay here.”
Luke could hardly believe it. “Really?”
“Yes. We’ll make the old shed into their stable.”
Luke looked at Joe. “Good idea,” he said tentatively.
“And the damson patch really isn’t big enough for them so they can share the whole garden with the chickens.”
“Really? What about your flowers?”
“Well, as your mum pointed out, I’ve still got the front garden.” Mum squeezed his hand.
“Thank you thank you thank you,” said Luke, “this is the best birthday ever!”
Dad nodded. “You’re very welcome.”
Luke gazed at the new chicken house. “How many chickens would fit in here?” he asked.
“The plan said up to twelve,” said Dad.
“Marvellous,” said Luke, “absolutely marvellous.”
And they all lived happily ever after 😀
If you’re late to the party and want to catch up, you can find all the Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er chapters here 🙂
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Chapter 24 continues:
Isabel peered through the shed window and smiled. “Looking good!” she said.
“What time is it?” Luke was slightly anxious.
“Ten past four,” said Isabel.
“Where the heck is Tania? She said she’d be here by three!”
“Actually, you told her to be here by three. What she actually said was, I don’t know how long it’ll take.”
“Well she didn’t say it would take this long!”
Joe came out of the house. “I’ve just seen Jared from your bedroom window. He’s at the bottom of the cul-de-sac!”
“Quick! Into the shed!” said Luke, panicking.
Isabel didn’t move. “We haven’t done anything yet,” she said, “there’s no need to hide.” At that moment her phone received a text. “It’s Tania. She says they’re five minutes out.”
“Joe, go and see where Jared is!”
“You go and see where Jared is.”
Luke went to see where Jared was and got to the back door just in time to hear the front door slam. He stepped quietly into the kitchen and listened. Jared’s heavy boots took the stairs two at a time and within seconds of them reaching the top, loud music blared from his room. Luke ran back to the damson patch.
“It’s alright. He’s in his room with his music on.“
“What if he looks out his window?” asked Joe.
“He won’t. Look, his curtains are drawn. He’s obivlious.”
Isabel resisted the temptation to correct him and smiled. “I can hear a car!”
They all ran out into the cul-de-sac. Tania’s dad’s car had just pulled up. Mr Spriggs and Tania got out and Luke approached them hurriedly.
“Hello.”
“Hello,” said Mr Spriggs brightly, “you must be Luke,” and he stretched out his right hand. Luke smiled and shook it without saying anything.
Tania was beaming. “Shall we take the chickens through?” she asked.
“Yeah, quick as we can,” said Luke, “this way.” Tania handed one box each to her eager friends and they carried them carefully up the drive towards the back garden gate.
“Would you mind if I use your toilet?” asked Tania’s dad.
“Daaad!”
Mr Spriggs ignored his daughter and looked hopefully at Luke.
Luke couldn’t risk anyone going inside and alerting Jared. “Er, sorry,” he said, “I don’t have a key to the house.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I did have one, but I dropped it when I was … when I went…” he said, awkwardly. “I don’t know where I dropped it.”
“Oh.”
Joe felt bad for the man. “I saw on telly that it’s good for compost heaps.”
Mr Spriggs raised his eyebrows, “and you’ve got a compost heap?”
Luke pointed to the far end of the garden and Mr Spriggs ran down there.
“Oh good grief!” said Tania to her shoes.
Isabel looked at her watch. Half past four. “Come on,” she said, “let’s show the chicks their new home.”
They were beautiful. Three of them were orange and gold, with red crowns. One of them was a soft grey and the other a dark red-brown with black at the tips of her feathers. As soon as they were out of their boxes they ran away to explore. The one with black-tipped feathers seemed to be the boldest. Wherever she went the others followed, but if any of them got too close to her she reprimanded them with a quick peck to the head.
“We should call her Boudicca,” suggested Tania.
Curly and Squirt were very interested in the newcomers but when they approached for a closer look, Boudicca saw them off with a squawk and a frenzied flap of her wings. The grey hen kept getting told off too.
“Aw, poor baby,” said Isabel, “they’re picking on her.”
“She’s alright,” said Joe, “Look – she’s keeping her distance from Boudicca and Frosty now.”
“Frosty?”
“The one with the white face.”
“Okay,” Isabel smiled, “and the grey one’s Millie.”
“Why?”
“I just like it.”
“What shall we name the other two?”
Everybody looked at Luke.
He grinned. “Kes and Neelix.”
“Neelix is a boy’s name,” said Tania.
“Doesn’t have to be,” argued Luke. “Neelix is the speckled one. She looks like Neelix.”
Mr Spriggs watched from the other side of the fence. “A splendid bunch,” he said smiling. “You’ve got them a nice set-up here.”
“Thanks,” said Luke, “thanks for pickin’ ’em up for us.”
“You’re very welcome. I hope your mum feels better soon. Is she back from the hospital yet?”
“Er, no.” Luke glanced anxiously at Isabel who mouthed ‘ten to five’. “But I think she might be home any minute an’ she told me in no certain terms that I have to be quiet and not have any friends round when she gets back.”
“Quite right!” said Mr Spriggs, “come on Tania, let’s make a move.”
“Er, can I cadge a lift?” asked Isabel.
“Of course.”
***************************************************
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Chapter 24 continues:
Tania’s dad pulled in to the car park at Butcher’s Field, the ironically named rendezvous for the chicken rescuers.
“You wait here,” said Tania, “I’ll go and get the chickens.”
“Where from?”
“I’ll ask the woman with the clipboard.”
“Alright. I’m going to look for the toilets,” said her dad, “I’ll be back in a few minutes hopefully.”
“A toilet Dad, not a tree,” she reminded him.
He laughed and they went their separate ways. When she reached the clipboard woman, Tania waited a polite distance behind the man who was talking to her, but she still couldn’t help overhearing their conversation.
“You a bit thin on the ground this year?” he asked.
“Yeah, because of the charge,” the woman told him.
“What charge?”
“She’s charging for them now.”
“Really?”
“Yes unfortunately. She didn’t charge before. Just wanted to save them. But now she says she can’t afford to keep letting them go for nothing.”
“Why? What brought that on?”
“She says she’s losing money ’cause she could get at least 50p each for them if she sent them to slaughter.”
“No!”
“Yep. Nine thousand birds at 50p each is £4,500!” The man just frowned and shook his head. “So she tells us she wants to charge people for them, thinks it’s perfectly reasonable, and who can’t afford 50p? But of course that’s not what we signed up for. We don’t want to fund animal farming. You pay to release one animal and that money’s used to enslave another.”
“Exactly.”
“But if we say no, there’s thousands of birds we could have saved going to slaughter. So we had a vote and decided, fourteen to six, in favour of going ahead. The six who voted against it resigned from the group.”
The man shook his head again. “So you’ve had to raise another four and a half thousand on top of your usual costs?”
Clipboard woman nodded.
“You’re an amazing woman Sheila,” he said, “I don’t know how you work with someone like that.”
“When you have to, you do,” she said, smiling.
He started to turn away but she reached out and touched his arm. “Er, Mike.”
“Yeah?”
“That’s just between us okay?”
He nodded, “see ya Sheila,” and walked away.
Tania approached.
“Hello love,” said the woman. She looked tired but she smiled.
Tania smiled back and gave her name. The woman looked down her list.
“You’re taking five?” she asked.
“That’s right.”
The woman looked around. “You on your own?”
“No,” said Tania, “my dad’s here. That’s our car over there. The red one.”
“Have you brought carriers?”
“No sorry, we didn’t know …”
“That’s okay, we’ve got boxes,” the woman smiled again. “You wait by the car and someone will bring them over in a minute.”
*****************************************************
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Chapter 24 continues:
“No! Not this one!”
“You said left!”
“I said second on the left.”
“All I heard was ‘left’.”
“You’ll have to turn round and go back.”
“I know!” Mr Walker was in miserable mood. He pulled in to a lay-by and waited for the traffic to clear.
“Are you going to be like this all day?” asked his wife.
“Like what? There’s nothing wrong with me.”
She took a deep breath and counted to ten while she looked out the window. “Did you get through to Fred?” she asked eventually.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He won’t budge. Says the committee’s votes are final. No more animals on the allotments.”
“There you go then, Luke was right.”
“He still shouldn’t have spoken to me like that.”
“No he shouldn’t but put yourself in his shoes. He was protecting his animals. You should be proud of him for that.”
“I’m sick of being treated like the enemy. I do my best for him. And the animals. It’d be nice if he gave me the benefit of the doubt sometimes.”
“Okay, maybe he did go off the deep end, but he was panicking. And he was livid about that horrible boy next door.”
“Did you speak to his mum?”
“Yes but she’s no use. She thinks the sun shines out of him. He can do no wrong as far as she’s concerned. She said Simon says Luke’s a liar and maybe we shouldn’t be so gullible.”
“Ha! What did you say to that?”
“I admitted Luke can be trying at times but, unlike one child I could mention, he’s not a shallow, slimy, arrogant, little toe-rag.”
“Ha ha ha! Did you really?”
“No. But I wanted to.”
Dad made a U-turn and got back on track.
“That’s it,” said Mum, “left, ……… and then left again. Yes – look: Wixham 36 miles!”
***************************************
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Chapter 24 continues:
In the garden Luke led Curly and Squirt away from Dad’s flower beds.
“We might not be able to stay here,” he told them apologetically, “but don’t worry, I’ll come with you, wherever you go.” He stroked the back of Curly’s neck while he considered their options and very soon it came to him. “We could live at the country park!” he said, “there’s trees to climb and woods to hide in, and plenty of grass for you to eat. It’d be like livin’ in Sherwood Forest!” It was a brilliant idea. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. “On’y thing is,” he added, “the chickens are comin’ tomorrow.” He sat on the lawn and pondered. He was sure he could figure something out but it would require more thought. Squirt laid down next to him and put his head on Luke’s lap. Luke looked at him and smiled. “It’s alright,” he said, “I’ll think of something.”
****
SATURDAY 14 JUNE
C-DAY
When Luke woke up at half past eight the house was quiet. He was greeted by Dudley when he went downstairs but everyone else was out. Dad had left a note on the fridge.
Luke called Joe.
“Hello.”
“Can you come round?”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
As soon as he put down the phone Luke let Dudley into the garden and checked on Curly and Squirt. They’d made themselves at home and were enjoying the abundance of dandelions in the damson patch. Joe arrived five minutes later and Luke took him upstairs to help look for his tent.
“What d’you want the tent for?” he asked.
“To live in.”
“Why?”
Luke put Joe in the picture.
“So you and Curly and Squirt are gonna run away and live at the country park?”
“Yeah.”
“What about school?”
“I won’t go to school.”
“It’s the law. You have to go to school.”
“I’m an outlaw.”
“Oh yeah. But how will you live? What will you eat? And what about the chickens?”
“Don’t worry,” said Luke with a conspiratorial smile, “I’ve got it all worked out.” He took his walkie talkies out of the wardrobe, opened the box and handed one to Joe. “I’ll keep in touch with you on this – channel six – and then if I need anything I’ll tell you and you can bring it.”
“Like what?”
“Food for a start. You’ve got your own food allowance.”
“It’s only enough for me.”
“Yeah but if you look for stuff that’s buy one get one free, you can give the free one to me. And if you go to the Co-op at the end of the day when they’re sellin’ things that are goin’ out of date – like bread for 10p a loaf – you can get stuff cheap so your money’ll go further.”
Joe nodded slowly. “Yeah, I s’pose I could do that.”
“Good. Oh, here it is!” He pulled out a bundle of grey nylon fabric from under the bed and spread it out on the carpet.
“You’re not going to be very well camouflaged with that picture of Spiderman on the side,” Joe pointed out.
Luke was unconcerned. “I’ll hide that with twigs and leaves.”
After checking nothing was missing he rolled the tent back up and went to the airing cupboard for his sleeping bag.
“Your mum and dad are gonna be pretty upset about this,” Joe told him.
“Well they’re not ezzactly givin’ me a choice are they? My first duty is to protect Curly an’ Squirt.”
Joe nodded. “Yeah, okay, but what about the chickens? Your mum and dad don’t know they’re coming so if you’re not here to look after them …”
Luke grinned. “It’s alright, I told you, I’ve got it all worked out.”
“How?”
“I’ll come back when they’re not here. Simple.”
“How will you know when they’re not here.”
“I already know. Dad goes to work at seven every mornin’; Jared’s gone before eight; and on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays Mum works at the Co-op.”
“What about Tuesdays and Thursdays? And weekends?”
“Well she’ll have to walk Dudley won’t she?”
“But you don’t know what time she’ll go.”
“That’s where you come in.”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“Well, you can keep watch and then tell me when she leaves, with the walkie talkie.”
“But I’m s’posed to be at school!”
Luke frowned. “We all agreed to rescue the chickens together. They’re all our responsibility, not jus’ mine. We’ve all got to work together.”
“I know but how can I do it on school days?”
“Look, I’m riskin’ prison by not goin’ to school at all,” Luke reminded him, “so the least you can do is risk bein’ marked late! That’s not askin’ too much is it? I mean, it’s life and death for the chickens don’t forget!”
Joe nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Now then, Tania should be here with the chickens by three. That should give us plenty of time to get them all settled in to the damson patch before Mum and Dad get home.”
“When will they be back?”
“They said they’d be gone all day so I s’pose that means after five.”
“You suppose?”
“Yeah.”
“What about Jared?”
“We haven’t gotta worry about him. He always disappears on Saturdays.”
“Where to?”
“Nobody knows. Skate park prob’ly.”
“So you don’t know when he’ll be back.”
“Late. He’s always late back on Saturdays.”
“How late?”
“Joe! Don’t worry about Jared! We just need to make sure we’re out of here before Mum and Dad get back.”
“Before five?”
Luke nodded. “Yeah. But I’d like to be away by four.” The two boys sat in silent agreement for a moment before Luke added “oh, but you’ll have to come back when it gets dark. I’ll give you a gate key.”
“On my own? Why?”
“To lock the cat flap on the chicken house so a fox doesn’t get ’em.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“Well I can’t leave Curly and Squirt in the park by themselves can I? And I can’t bring ’em with me – they’re not ezzactly stealthy!”
Luke stuffed his tent, sleeping bag and walkie talkie into his rucksack. “I’d better get some rations,” he said, “come on.” Downstairs he crammed every pocket and crevice of his bag with food and a couple of bottles of water. “Now let’s go to the allotments and get some straw!”
********************************************
Story continues tomorrow but if you don’t want to wait, you can read it here now 😀
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Chapter 24 continues:
“Where’s Luke?” asked Dad.
“Must be out with Dudley,” said Mum, “I expect he’ll be back soon.”
“Right, well as soon as he gets in, I want to give him his present.”
“You’ve finished it?”
“Yes,” said Dad with a big grin.
“Can I see it?” asked Mum excitedly, starting for the door.
“Not ’til Luke gets here,” Dad laughed and stepped in front of her.
“It’s not his birthday ’til Sunday,” said Jared.
“I know but I’ve got to work on Sunday.”
“Oh no!” said Mum, “didn’t you tell them you had plans?”
“Yeah but they’re desperate. A lot of people off with stomach flu.”
“Again?! Lucky for them you never get it.”
“What if you did?” suggested Jared, “tell ’em you caught it and then you won’t have to work.”
Dad frowned disapproval at that idea.
Mum pouted. “Oh, I don’t want you to miss Luke’s birthday.”
“I don’t want to miss it either. That’s why I thought we could do it now. While we’re all here.”
“Luke and Dudley are home,” said Jared, looking out the dining room window, “and they’re not alone.”
Luke greeted his family with a fierce scowl. “Butler let Curly an’ Squirt out and now they’re not allowed on the allotment!” he told them angrily.
“What?” asked everybody at once.
“Curly an’ Squirt got out and they messed up some o’ the plots and ate some o’ the plants but it wasn’t their fault. An’ I told Mr Tipton it wasn’t my fault either but he said I must’ve forgot but I didn’t an’ I told him I didn’t but he wun’t believe me! He said there was a new rule and no animals could live on the allotments so I had to bring ’em home!”
“Luke slow down. What exactly did Fred say?” asked Dad.
“I told you! He said he wasn’t gonna let animals on the allotments any more coz he couldn’t risk it happenin’ again!”
“The sheep got onto other people’s plots?”
“Yes!” Luke was exasperated.
“Oh no,” said Mum, “did they do much damage?”
“It’s not their fault,” Luke reiterated, “they were just eatin’. They didn’t know they weren’t s’posed to. They didn’t mean to spoil anything.”
“How did they get out?” asked Dad, “did you forget to bolt the gate this morning?”
“No! I told you! Butler did it!”
“Simon Butler? Why d’you think that?”
“I saw him just now – laughin’ with his stupid friends about it! He shouted at me that I shun’t have left the gate open. How would he know that if he din’t do it?”
Mum and Dad exchanged serious glances.
“I’ll speak to Fred,” said Dad, “don’t worry. I’m sure we can work something out.”
“We could put a padlock on the gate,” suggested Mum.
“Good idea ….”
“Won’t work,” interrupted Luke dejectedly, “I already offered to do that. He said no.”
Dad ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him,” and he reached for the phone.
“No!” said Luke firmly, “they’re not safe there. I want them to stay here!”
“They can’t stay here Luke, I’m sorry.”
“Why not? The garden’s big enough.”
“I’m sorry Luke, no,” Dad insisted, “I’ve worked hard on this garden and I don’t want it ruined.” He looked out the dining room window. “Look – they’ve already eaten half my purple mallow!”
“Well they’ve had a rough day! Give ’em a break!”
“I’ll go next door and speak to Anne,” said Mum, “maybe she can keep her slimy son in check.”
“Okay,” said Dad. “Luke, put the sheep in the damson patch. I’ll phone Fred.”
“No! We’re not sendin’ ’em back! A padlock won’t keep ’em safe! Anyone could climb over the fence an’ hurt ’em! I want them here where I can see them all the time!”
Dad spoke low and calm but there was no mistaking his hostility. “Let me make one thing clear: I am not giving up my garden. I tolerated the loss of my vegetable patch to your rabbits and you’re lucky I didn’t put my foot down then. I’m putting it down now. The sheep are going back to the allotments.”
Luke was infuriated. “Aren’t Curly an’ Squirt more important than a few flowers? It’s dangerous for ’em there! It’s cruel to make ’em go back! Cruel and selfish!” He paused for a response that didn’t come. “If you make ’em leave, I’m goin’ with them!”
Mum put her hand on his shoulder in an effort to calm him down but he pulled away angrily and stormed back out into the garden.
Mr Walker slammed his garage keys down on the table. “So glad I worked every spare minute to make that child’s birthday present!” he growled.
“He didn’t mean it,” said Mum sympathetically, “he’s just upset. If he knew what you’d done …”
“He shouldn’t speak to me like that whether he knew or not!”
“I know but …”
“I think I deserve a little bit of respect!”
Mrs Walker reached out to hug him but he walked away. She sighed. “I wonder what it would have been like to have daughters,” she thought.
*************************************************
Story continues tomorrow but if you don’t want to wait, you can read it here now 😀
***********************************************************
vegan, vegan children, veggie kids, animals, animal rights, juvenile fiction, chickens, sheep, vegan children’s story
For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂
A few minutes later, Luke and Dudley were en route to the allotments to see Curly and Squirt. It was cold. The scarcity of light before sunrise made it feel even colder but when they got there they were eagerly welcomed by mother and son. Luke reached into his pocket for the expected treats. He let his friends choose who had which. Squirt snatched the carrot before his mother got a look in but that was okay because Curly liked parsnips. Little Squirt had learned not to hesitate when it came to accepting treats because Dudley was rather partial to carrots too. In this instance, Dudley was compensated for his lack of carrot by the tasty piece of cardboard which had fluttered from pocket to ground, unnoticed by Luke, when he pulled out the sheep’s treats.
Luke let Dudley off the lead while he went to the big shed. He refilled the nets with alfalfa hay and cleaned up the muck before laying down a thick bed of clean straw. Then he went back outside to check on the water trough. As expected, it had frozen over. He looked for the trowel they used to break the ice. Mum had done it yesterday. Where had she put it? Luke looked at his watch: 7.35. It would take ten minutes to get back home and another five to return to the bus stop so he didn’t have much time. He looked under the tarpaulins at the back of the shed; he looked in the old wooden chest under the tarpaulins. Where was it? He didn’t have time for this! He went back outside and scanned the area. Hurrying around the whole of his plot, he looked under shrubs and behind the wood pile. Nothing. He tried without success to break the ice with his elbow and then rushed over to his dad’s plot, maybe she’d left it there. Finally, he found it. She’d stuck it into the ground behind the coiled hose. He tugged on it but it wouldn’t move. The ground was frozen and the trowel was stuck.
“Great,” thought Luke, “thanks Mum!” Then he had an idea. The tap to which the hose was connected had its pipe lagged. With any luck it hadn’t frozen. He attempted to turn it on. The cold metal hurt his hand but he tried as hard as he could to twist it. It was stuck. He looked at his watch again: 7.46. He pulled his hand into his thick coat sleeve and tried again. The padding helped. The tap started to give and then, finally, there was running water. He wet the earth around the trowel to soften it, turned off the tap, agitated the trowel back and forth until it came free and then ran back to the water trough. With all his strength he hacked into the thick ice and broke it into floating chunks. As fast as he could he tossed the chunks over to Dad’s plot so that they wouldn’t re-join. Luke’s gloved hands were wet and stinging with cold. Curly and Squirt ambled over for a drink. The trough was half empty now. Would that be enough water for them for today? Maybe not. But he didn’t have time to refill it. He’d tell Mum to do it. No, Mum said she was going to be out all day. She’d probably left already. He ran back to the tap, turned it on and directed the hose at the trough. It took two minutes to fill. Finally, everything was done. Luke unfastened the gate.
“Dudley,” he called, “c’m ‘ere boy, quick!” Dudley was so busy playing with Squirt that he didn’t notice he was being summoned. Luke made his voice deep and stern. “Dud-ley!”
Dudley looked over at Luke, thought for a moment, and then resumed his game. Luke growled. He re-fastened the gate and ran after his dog. Dudley and Squirt were very happy Luke had decided to join them and ran ahead of him around the shed, wagging their tails and shouting with joy. After three circuits of the shed and one sudden and uncomfortable slip to the ground, Luke changed tactics. He went into the shed where Curly was enjoying the hay.
“Alright Curly?” he asked as he gently stroked her back. She turned to nuzzle her nose against his hand briefly before resuming her meal. In less than a minute, Dudley and Squirt put their heads around the door, wondering if they could get some of whatever Curly was getting. Luke smiled and put his hand in his pocket. The playmates hurried over for whatever he’d got for them and Luke clipped the lead to Dudley’s collar before they realised their mistake. They got over their disappointment easily while Luke, with a quick goodbye over his shoulder, ran with Dudley all the way home.
It was gone eight when he passed the bus stop which was still crowded with people. There was still hope. Luke stopped to catch his breath and Dudley took the opportunity to sniff for evidence of interlopers on the grass verge.
“Come on Dudley!” Luke chivvied, and the two of them pushed themselves to the limit. As soon as they got home, Dudley headed back to bed for a well-earned rest and Luke envied him. When he rushed back down the hill, slowed only slightly by his heavy school bag, he was relieved to see the bus had still not arrived. It pulled up just as he crossed the road to join the back of the queue. Ten past eight. Not bad considering. Sweating and out of breath, Luke undid his coat and took off his scarf as the queue moved forward. Passengers raced up the stairs and threw themselves onto the seats, making the bus sway. With just a couple of people now ahead of him, Luke put his hand in his pocket for his bus pass. Not there. He checked his other pocket. No. He checked his back pocket, he checked his coat pockets. Nothing. He looked up to meet the driver’s weary gaze.
“I can’t find my bus pass,” he confessed.
“I can’t let you on then,” returned the driver.
“I have got a bus pass,” Luke explained, “I am s’posed to be on this bus. I’ve just lost it.”
“You’ll have to get a new one then won’t you?”
“Yeah,” said Luke, relieved, and climbed aboard.
“Not without a bus pass. Step down please.”
“But I’ll be late!”
“So you will. Not my problem. Get. Off.”
*********************************************************
Story continues on Monday 😀
but if you don’t want to wait the whole chapter is right here 😉
Have a great weekend 😀
*************************************************************
vegan, vegetarian, veggie kids, vegan children, animals, sheep, dog, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s book, humour
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.
*******************************
The story concludes on Monday but if you don’t want to wait you can finish it 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
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
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 🙂
**********************************
vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s stories, vegan children’s books, animals, animal rights, animal protection, animal rescue, vegan children, veggie kids, sheep, sheep farming
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 🙂
**********************************
vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s stories, vegan children’s books, animals, animal rights, animal protection, animal rescue, vegan children, veggie kids, sheep, sheep farming
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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vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s stories, vegan children’s books, animals, animal rights, animal protection, animal rescue, vegan children, veggie kids, sheep, sheep farming
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
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.
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!
For the first seven chapters click here 🙂
Chapter 8 continues:
***************************
“Explain. How is this the only waste you personally made this week?”
Luke explained.
“I told my mum not to buy the vegetables an’ fruit in plastic bags an’ nets an’ trays ’cause we don’t need ’em, we just throw ’em away as soon as we get home. So I jus’ put it all loose in the trolley; I laid it on top of a soft bag so it dint get bruises, and then I put it in our own bags when we paid for it.”
The fact that the bags to which he referred were actually pillowcases was an irrelevant detail unnecessary to divulge.
“Ok, good, loose fruit and veg – no need for packaging. What else?”
“I told Mum to get the loose lentils and raisins that you can weigh, instead of the ones in packets, and we put it in our bags we took with us what we can re-use.”
He paused, waiting for her to acknowledge receipt of this information.
“Go on,” she urged.
“I told Mum to get me the porridge oats what comes in jus’ a paper bag instead of cereal what’s in boxes and plastic bags. An’ we got flour an’ sugar in paper bags an’ bread in paper bags instead of plastic; an’ peanut butter in a glass jar with a metal lid; an’ vinegar an’ ketchup an’ apple juice an’ sunflower oil in glass bottles with metal lids – but we ‘aven’t finished all of ’em so I on’y brought the juice bottle today – an’ two tins of beans. That’s everythin’ I ate an’ I made my Mum choose glass an’ tins because they can be recycled over an’ over forever an’ ever, back into bottles an’ food tins, but plastic is bad an’ can on’y be cycled to things like plastic bricks an’ stuff that can’t be recycled in the end.”
Mrs Tebbut was lost for words. He had read the printouts. He had done the work. Impressively. She looked at the three paper bags, one glass bottle and two baked beans tins and was amazed at how simple it could actually be.
“Well done Luke,” she said, “very well done indeed.”
At the end of the day when everyone else was going to get their coats, Mrs Tebbut called Luke to her desk.
“Good work today Luke,” she said, “is this something you’ve been concerned about for a while? I mean before we started our project?”
Luke was unused to his teacher’s friendly voice being directed at him but he saw no harm in indulging her.
“Yeah. Since I saw Spiker caught in the plastic rings an’ all the litter what hurts the animals. An’ since so many people are jus’ stupid to keep droppin’ the litter I thought the best thing to do is to make shops stop sellin’ it, then there’d be nothin’ to drop, ‘cept maybe paper bags but that won’t hurt no one and it won’t last long. So I’m teachin’ my Mum not to buy things with plastic.”
“Well, Luke, that’s wonderful, I’m very impre….”
“An’ I’m makin’ new things out of old things as well,” being impressive was new to Luke – he couldn’t stop now, “so I’m recyclin’ ’em myself and I’m reducin’ the buyin’ of new things ’cause of fixin’ things and makin’ new ones out of old ones.”
Mrs Tebbut smiled.
“Really? What are you making?”
“At the moment,” he said proudly, “I’m knittin’ a blanket for my pet lamb to keep ‘im warm on chilly nights.”
“Wonderful! And are you using recycled yarn from an unravelled jumper?”
“Kind of, but no, not yarn. Strips of material.”
She looked confused so he tried to explain.
“I got the idea from me Nan’s magazine ’bout makin’ rag rugs by cuttin’ old material into strips an’ knottin’ ’em together to make long long strings of it an’ then knittin’ with it. It’ll make a thick, soft blanket for Squirt to sleep on.”
“Fantastic! What material are you using? What are you cutting up?”
Luke was glad she asked because he’d put a lot of thought into that decision. He answered with the quiet confidence of a wise person enlightening a complete beginner.
“I decided the warmest stuff would be what blankets are made of and I found two big blankets in the airing cupboard what nobody was usin’ so I used ’em. I’m nearly finished now.”
Mrs Tebbut smiled again.
“You’ve got a good heart Luke,” she said, “off you go. Have a nice weekend, I’ll see you Monday.”
Luke, almost overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation of being approved of, went to get his coat.
Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (£4) – the first eight chapters; and Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er: my privut notebook (£2.75) – every member of Luke’s secret sersiety of animal stick up for-ers should have one; are available from Amazon 🙂
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vegan, vegetarian, environment, recycling, children’s story, children’s book, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s book, humour, animals, children, sheep, lambs
For the first seven chapters click here 🙂
Chapter 8 continues:
***************************
At Besco’s Luke watched her closely with his project in mind. To Mum it seemed like every time she reached for something he said,
“No! Not that. Get this one!”
She found it very trying but at the same time was impressed with her son’s commitment to the project and didn’t want to curb his enthusiasm for anything school-related. She bit her tongue and cooperated with most his suggestions.
At the checkout, when the lady asked if she’d like any bags, Luke spoke out before she could answer in the affirmative.
“No thanks. It’s very bad to get plastic bags. They make pollution. You should ban ’em.” Then he put his pile of pillowcases onto the end of the checkout and started filling one with loose vegetables. Mum flashed the checkout lady an embarrassed smile and said,
“School project.”
When the day came for the presentations to the class, Luke, because his surname began with W, was one of the last to present. His peers were getting restless. They had already sat through twenty seven similar presentations in which they were shown similar empty packets, cartons and bottles being thrown out that week by each family. Those to be recycled included cereal boxes with their internal plastic bags, plastic milk bottles, plastic ketchup bottles, plastic shampoo bottles, Tetra Paks, glass wine bottles, beer bottles, plastic pop bottles, drink cans, food tins and the like. Those to go to landfill included toothpaste tubes, toothbrushes, brillo pads, polystyrene food trays, plastic straws and crisp packets. Mrs Tebbut herself was having trouble staying awake at this stage and decided that next year she would get the class to work on a single collective presentation for a school assembly.
Luke waited for Susan Vickers to take her family’s waste off the presentation table and then he walked to the front and stood awkwardly facing his class.
“Ok Luke, how have you reduced waste in your household this week?” asked Mrs Tebbut.
Luke reached into his bag and put onto the table three paper bags, one glass 1 litre bottle and two empty baked beans tins. He looked at the class and spoke loudly to conceal his nervousness.
“This is my waste for this week. The yellow and blue paper bag what had oats in will be recycled; the brown paper bread bags will go on the compost; the bottle and the baked beans tins will be recycled.”
Relieved that it was over he waited for Mrs Tebbut to tell him to stand down. She didn’t.
“That can’t be all,” she said, “I told you to show the class how much waste your household had produced and how you’d helped to reduce it.”
“I did.”
“This is all your family’s waste for a whole week?”
“This is the reduced waste what I made ’em reduce. I don’t think it’s fair to include the things I told ’em not to buy. They’re not my fault.”
“Luke, that wasn’t the project. You’ve misunderstood.”
“I’ve done it fair. It’s not fair to say I dint do well makin’ my family’s waste smaller if my family won’t do what I tell ’em. It’s on’y fair to see what waste was made from choices I made ’em make.”
Mrs Tebbut couldn’t argue with that.
*****************
story concludes tomorrow 🙂
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vegan, vegetarian, environment, recycling, children’s story, children’s book, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s book, humour, animals, children, sheep, lambs
For the first seven chapters click here 🙂
Chapter 8 continues:
***************************
Mrs Tebbut continued.
“Now can anybody think of ways in which we could reduce our waste in the first place?”
Several hands shot up.
“Yes, Andrew.”
“Draw on both sides of the paper.”
“Very good. Yes, Katia.”
“Stick a note on your door that says ‘no junk mail’.”
“Good thinking. Yes, Simon.”
“Get your shoes re-soled instead of buying new ones.”
“Ooh, yes, well done Simon. Repair things instead of throwing them out. Good one. Ok, well done, you’re all thinking now. What about the choices we make when we buy things like food. We have to buy food, but how can we reduce waste before we even get it home?”
The class went quiet again. Everyone was thinking but they weren’t quite sure what she was after.
“I’m thinking packaging here,” she explained, “we eat the food but we throw away the packaging. How can we reduce that waste?”
“Buy food with recyclable packaging!” Butler shouted out.
“Yes, if we must, but what would be even better?”
Joe’s eyes suddenly lit up and he opened his mouth as if to speak but didn’t. Mrs Tebbut noticed.
“Joe? Did you want to say something?”
“Buy stuff without packaging,” he said quietly.
There were a few snickers.
“How ya gonna do that? Everything comes in packets!” someone scoffed.
Joe went red and looked down at his hands. Mrs Tebbut frowned.
“Quiet! Pay attention to Joe, he’s got the right idea!” She turned to Joe, “well done, that’s exactly what I was looking for. We need to avoid the waste coming into our homes in the first place by choosing things with the least amount of packaging, and even no packaging when possible. Kenny – see me at the end of class!”
Mrs Tebbut went on to explain their class project: a week on Friday they would all make a presentation to the class in which they would explain how they had reduced waste in their household. As visual aids they were to bring with them everything being thrown away in their house that week (after it had been cleaned if necessary) and tell the class where that rubbish was headed: recycling or landfill. She gave them printouts which told them all about recycling.
********
After tea on shopping night, Luke was rummaging through the kitchen drawers.
“Come on Luke if you want to come, I want to get this over with,” said Mum.
She hated shopping.
“I’m coming …” said Luke, but didn’t.
“What are you looking for?” asked Mum.
“The shopping bags. I thought they were in here.”
“So did I. Oh, I don’t know. I think I put them in the wash. I don’t know where they are now. Never mind, just leave it. Let’s go!”
“Hang on!” said Luke and he rushed upstairs.
Mum picked up the car keys and headed for the door.
“If you don’t come now Luke, I’m going without you!” And she went outside.
Just before she released the handbrake Luke opened the passenger door and climbed in.
“What are you doing with those?” Mum asked with alarm as she looked at a large crumpled pile of flower-print and cartoon superhero pillowcases on his lap.
“Bags,” he said, “we need reusable bags.”
Mum inhaled deeply, checked the mirror and reversed out of the drive.
*****************
continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan, vegetarian, environment, recycling, children’s story, children’s book, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s book, humour, animals, children, sheep, lambs
Chapter Eight:
Luke Walker and the recycling
*****
“Ha ha ha ha,” Luke laughed, “stop it! I’m nearly finished! Let me finish!”
Luke was sitting on the straw in Curly’s shed, trying to knit a blanket for Squirt.
Curly had given birth to Little Squirt a few days after she arrived at her new home and he was the most playful, affectionate little chap Luke had ever met. Curly hadn’t let Luke come near him at first but after a while she let Squirt go to him.
“Hey! I nearly dropped another stitch! Ok, that’s it! I’m putting it away. I’ll have to finish it at home.”
Luke preferred to do his knitting in the shed on his plot because at home Jared teased him for it. He had laughed when Luke first asked Nan to teach him.
“Knitting? That’s what girls do! You wish you were a girl don’t you Luke?”
“It’s jus’ like makin’ knots at Scouts Jared! Don’t you make knots at Scouts?”
“Yeah – knots are useful, for camping and sailing and stuff boys do.”
“And knittin’ is turnin’ string into material to make blankets or mats or clothes or tents or anythin’!”
He believed an outlaw should have the skills to make his own things and be self-sufficient. Knitting was a useful skill. Nan had been very happy to teach him.
Luke put the half-made blanket back in his bag and played with Squirt until it was time to go home for tea. He had to be home promptly today because it was Mum’s shopping night and he needed to go with her for his school project.
****
This half term’s topic was The Environment and Mrs Tebbut had started by talking to them about rubbish, waste and plastic pollution. This was of great interest to Luke.
On the board she wrote:
Reduce, Re-use, Recycle
“This week we are going to think about how we can reduce waste by the simple choices we make in our lives,” she began. “Although the amount of rubbish being recycled in this country has increased in recent years, the amount being sent to landfill is also on the increase. In England, we only recycle about 44% of household waste when in fact 80% of it is recyclable. This means we all need to try a little bit harder.”
“Or a lot harder,” Luke mouthed to Joe.
“So today I’m going to tell you about The Three Rs: Reduce, Re-use, Recycle. Have any of you heard of this before?”
Lots of blank faces and shaking of heads.
“Ok, well the idea is that, although recycling is very important, we should first try to reduce the amount of stuff we buy in the first place by holding on to the stuff we’ve already got for as long as possible – taking care of it and getting it repaired instead of throwing it away.
“Then, once we have really worn out our stuff and it can’t be repaired anymore, before we throw it out for recycling we should try to think of ways to reuse it. Old clothes, for example, could be turned into cleaning rags.
“And finally, when we can no longer find a use for something, we should recycle it.”
“Interesting,” thought Luke.
******************
continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan, vegetarian, environment, recycling, children’s story, children’s book, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s book, humour, animals, children, sheep, lambs
Chapter 7 continues (For the first 6 chapters click here 🙂 )
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“…. She belongs to ‘erself. I think she should be allowed to keep belongin’ to ‘erself, don’t you?” He looked at Joe earnestly.
Joe looked back, wide eyed.
“Yeah, I do.”
Luke smiled, Joe was with him. But now he really had to think. Where would the sheep be safe? If they just left her to wander, someone else was bound to discover her and return her to the farm. No, he couldn’t let that happen. He had to get her to a place of safety where the farmer wouldn’t find her. Joe gently stroked the sheep’s forehead. Luke was thinking hard. There had to be a way. There was always a way if you thought hard enough. And then it came to him.
“I’ve got it!” said Luke, “I know how we can save her!”
“What? What will we do?” asked Joe eagerly.
“You wait here with her,” Luke instructed, “keep ‘er here, out of sight. I’ve got to go somewhere and I’ll be back quick as I can.”
“Where are you going?” asked Joe, a little nervous about having sole custody of the refugee.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” Luke assured him as he turned to run back along the lane towards the village.
Joe continued to stroke the sheep, telling her softly that it would be ok, that Luke had thought of something and he wouldn’t let her down. Obviously comforted by this, she resumed munching the grass.
It started to rain. Just a few drops at first and then it settled in to a steady drizzle.
“Hurry up,” thought Joe as he became gradually wetter.
The sheep didn’t seem to mind. Eventually, after almost an hour by Joe’s reckoning (seventeen and a half minutes), Luke returned. He was smiling and had with him a piece of rope.
“Where ‘ave you been? What are we gonna do?” Joe asked as Luke tied the rope carefully around the sheep’s neck so that he could lead her.
“I’ve got a place where we can take ‘er,” Luke told him, “come on.”
The rain ensured their independence by keeping other people indoors. They walked back half way along the lane until they came to the back entrance of the allotments. Luke opened the gate with a key and they went in. He led his old friend and his new friend past many well-kept plots full of rows of cabbages and turnips and carrots and leeks and all sorts of plants that Luke didn’t recognise. The sheep was keen to try a few.
“No! Stop ‘er!” Luke half-shouted as she bent her head to some turnip tops.
Joe stopped her just in time and the boys quickened their pace. After a while the plots began to look a little untidy and, the further they walked, the more unkempt they became. They stopped alongside Luke’s dad’s plot which was one of the unkempt because he hadn’t had it very long.
“Here we are!” said Luke happily to the sheep, “welcome to your new home Curly.”
“Really?” said Joe.
“Yeah!” said Luke, “I think it suits her.” Joe shook his head.
“Not the name, the place! Won’t your dad go mad?”
“Why would he?” Luke asked, a little irritated that Joe was being so negative.
Then Luke realised that from where he was standing, Joe couldn’t see what he and Curly could see.
“No, not here,” he said, “there!”
And he pointed to something behind his dad’s ramshackle shed.
Joe stepped forward to look. The plot behind Luke’s dad’s plot had been abandoned some time ago and was quite overgrown. The former tenant had erected post and rail fencing all around it so that she could keep her Shetland pony there. And there was a big shed that she’d used as a stable. Luke beamed.
“This is my plot!”
Joe’s jaw dropped.
“But how? …. When?”
“That’s where I went. To the ‘lotment committee man’s house. To rent this ‘lotment.”
“But how … I mean, don’t that cost loadsa money?”
Joe knew the answer to his question almost before he’d finished asking it. Luke was so happy as he led Curly to her new home.
“Won’t ‘ave time for bike rides now anyway,” he said.
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The first eight chapters of Luke’s adventures sticking up for animals – only £4! Click the pic!
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vegan children’s story, children’s book, books, children, animals, sheep
Chapter 7 continues (For the first 6 chapters click here 🙂 )
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The lane was quiet, the boys were quieter, until Luke noticed something. As they approached the stile that led to the meadow that was crossed by the stream that was bridged by the bridge on which the boys had planned to play Pooh sticks, Luke saw a sheep.
The sheep was munching the long grass in front of the field gate next to the stile. There were no sheep in the meadow at that time but Luke knew that sometimes there were. He could only assume that this sheep had got separated from the rest when they were being moved to another field.
“A lost sheep!” said Joe when he looked up.
“Yeah,” said Luke, their discord forgotten. They approached her slowly so as not to startle her.
“What should we do?” whispered Joe.
“I don’t know,” said Luke.
“I bet it belongs to Manor Farm,” Joe guessed, “I know they’ve got sheep.”
Luke was deep in thought.
“Maybe,” he said after a while, “but we can’t really be sure.”
“We should prob’ly go and tell the farmer at Manor Farm, then he could come and see it. I think he’d know if it was one of his.”
Luke took his water bottle out of his lunch box.
“Maybe,” he said again as he tipped what was left in the bottle onto the mud, “but then again, he’s prob’ly got hundreds of sheep and they prob’ly all look the same to ‘im.”
He rubbed his hand in the wet mud and then wiped it gently over the red dye mark on the sheep’s back.
“And it would be wrong to hand ‘er over to the wrong person.”
“Why are you doin’ that?” asked Joe.
“Jus’ coolin’ ‘er down. Wet mud really cools ’em down,” Luke explained, “don’t want ‘er to be hot an’ bothered.”
Since it was March, Joe was unconvinced by this explanation. His friend was clearly up to something and he had a good idea what it might be.
“You can’t keep it Luke,” he said firmly, “it don’t belong to you.”
“An’ who does she belong to? We don’t ezzactly know do we?”
“That mark you just covered …”
“What mark? I can’t see no mark! Can you?”
“Not now, no.”
“No. There’s on’y one thing we do know.”
“What’s that?”
“That whoever she does belong to wants to kill ‘er! Do you want to give ‘er to someone who will kill ‘er? Would you do that Joe? Would you?”
Luke was trying to keep it to a whisper so as not to frighten the sheep, but his hushed tones were still fierce.
“Well, you don’t actually know that,” Joe said cautiously.
“Don’t I? Why do farmers keep animals? Is it ’cause they love ’em? Is it ’cause they want to play with ’em and cuddle ’em?”
Joe shook his head.
“No,” Luke agreed, “they keep ’em to make money out of ’em, and they make money out of ’em by sellin’ ’em for meat.”
Joe couldn’t argue with that. He nodded.
“So what can we do?” he asked.
Luke continued.
“Here is a brave sheep who has prob’ly bin hidin’ from the farmer for days or weeks. And he prob’ly hasn’t even noticed she’s missin’; or he has noticed but he’s given up lookin’ for ‘er. So she’s free. She belongs to ‘erself. I think she should be allowed to keep belongin’ to ‘erself, don’t you?” He looked at Joe earnestly.
************************
continues tomorrow 🙂
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vegan children’s story, children’s book, books, children
Tower Hill Stables Animal Sanctuary
Fiona Oakes – International marathon runner, fire fighter, provider of sanctuary for animals.
These guys are amazing. Not only do they provide sanctuary for over 2000 rescued animals, they also do undercover investigations into farms which lead to the exposure of horrible cruelty and the prosecution of the perpetrators. Take a look at what they’ve accomplished over the last 20 years and support them if you can 🙂
Click here for info about how you can help 🙂
“Hee hee” said the cow,
“Woo hoo” said the hen
“Hurrah!” said the sow
And the sheep cheered again.
“He did it!” they cried
As they skipped and they ran,
“Farmer’s eyes opened wide,
And he became vegan!”
And it’s true! It’s happening again and again!
Click here for some wonderfully moving true stories of animal farmers who awoke to the reality of what they were doing and completely turned things around 🙂
Yesterday we took a train ride to the seaside!
Just leaving the station…
Through the fields we go!
Over the hills…
Have a little sit down…
Can you see Reflecto Girl?
Flying high above the houses! 😀
And even more houses…
Rows and rows of houses. And a crane in the distance!
Stopped in a station to collect more passengers…
Here we are!
And here we are in Brighton Station. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform. 😀
“Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?”
“Yes sir, yes sir, but I’ll keep it all.
None for the master,
None for the dame,
And none for the little boy who lives down the lane.”
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vegan nursery rhymes
The Gospel of the Holy Twelve, Lection IV, vs 3-5
Violet's Vegan Comics 