Bedtime Stories(Laura Weber) BED TIME STORIES OUR MOTHER TOLD US.
By Isabella and Laura Percival.

After reading the circular from Story Star, I thought I would try a story for children, (the first) and decided with suggestions and lots of encouragement from my sister to have a go.

We remember with a great deal of love the effort our mother put in to keep her stories alive for years. The following are some of the bedtime stories our mother told us.

Here is one about a family of frogs:


MEET THE FROGS OF SMITH’S POND.

Once upon a time, a family of frogs, a mother and a father, lived with their four children on a water lily leaf, at a pond in Mr. Smith’s garden. The children’s names were Freddy, Fay, Frank and Fiona. They thoroughly enjoyed playing leapfrog. Everyone heard the sounds of their happy croaking and splashing in the water as they leapt and frolicked around the pond hopping from leaf to leaf, in and out of weeds and rocks, which were cute little hiding places.

Sometimes they played games, competing with each other to see who could leap the furthest, or the longest length of their tongues, a game that Freddy always won. Frank could make the loudest croak, while the two sisters caught the most flies.

One day while they were playing, the weather suddenly changed and it became very cold. Mother Frog looked out of the window and noticed that the children were shivering. She called them in.

“It is time for supper” she said, and then added, “The hot water bottles are already in your beds.” The frogs finished their supper and then hopped off to snuggle in a warm and cosy bed. Within no time at all, they were fast asleep.

Once, while Freddy and his brother were playing in the garden, they found a piece of string under some stones. Freddy said, “With this string we can make a skipping rope and have fun with our sisters.” They played a game of leapfrog and hopped very fast and high over the rope. Their joyful croaks were heard all over the neighborhood.

Once while the Smith children were out in the garden trying to catch butterflies in their nets, Freddy was accidently caught in the net. He made loud terrifying croaks, which upset the Smith children. They consoled him by saying, ”Do not be frightened Freddy, we will set you free from the net, and take you back to the pond. We enjoy your musical croaks serenading us in the morning before we go to school.

Mother frog had many medicines in her cupboard to treat and cure colds and sore throats. One day Frank caught his tongue on a piece of wire hanging down from the branch of a tree. He thought he was catching a fly. Mother treated his tongue with tree bark cream three times a day. He soon recovered and was able to catch his favourite food again.

The frogs loved the hot summer days and they collected little coloured pebbles with their buckets and spades. They played marbles with the pebbles competing with each other to see who could throw the furthest. They also played many other interesting games. Chess was a firm favourite. The title of the Kings and Queens, and royal courtiers on the chessboard were replaced by the colours on their stones.

There were school choirs in all the different neighbourhoods. The frog children needed to practice their songs every day. They could harmonize going up and down the minor and major scale with ease and hold notes for quite some considerable time. Young Bertie Bullfrog, their friend, had a deep baritone voice, while Fiona and Fay sang all the high notes. A song which the frogs loved to sing was “Somewhere over the rainbow.”

Laura and Isabella inserted the following anecdote in fond memory of their mother Poppy who taught them how to dance the Charleston, which is very similar to the leg movement of the frogs. (Freddy and Frank plucked and strummed on the strings of the guitar imitating the sound of the Beetles. Sometimes they danced “Hip Hop” which is very popular, and at other times a sedate tango or a cha cha.)

Did you know that frogs are loved all over the world, as they are great predictors of spot on weather conditions, forecasting rain or sunny days, floods or long seasonal droughts. They bring good luck to the people who live in villages. In certain parts of India, the frogs are dressed in soft gold cloth and showered with flowers. The people pray to the frogs for good monsoon rain the coming season. Joy is spread all around when it does rain.

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The frog stories carried on until we reached the ripe old age of 6 yrs.
Our mother decided she wanted to teach us to appreciate music at an early age. Every evening when we lay sleepily in bed she played with great gusto, on the piano thumping out a selection of waltzes. Quite often, she burst into song. My sister and I would giggle at her singing. We thought Mum had a very flat voice and sang out of tune. She had great hopes that one of us would become a concert pianist or an opera star.

We started music lessons at a very early age, and carried on until we left school. We did not reach stardom status, but Mom was happy with us as just being her healthy daughters.

We spent our childhood in Portuguese East Africa by the sea at the coast.
Early morning sounds were a variety of all sorts. We had bright yellow canaries singing in their cages outside our bedroom window from five o’clock a.m. The railway lines ran through the suburbs where we lived. At seven o’clock in the morning, just before breakfast, it became part of our daily routine to run to the railway lines, when we heard the approaching mail train, the wheels clacking out a special tune not unlike a pop band’s drums. The driver would blow the hooter loudly and merrily to let everyone know that the mail train was passing by. We would take the dogs and run with them to greet the driver. The dogs always barked hysterically, jumping up and down at our sides, eager to be on time just to see the train, and the noise attached to the driver, and the passengers knew we loved to greet them. They waved back at us, leaning out the train windows.

The morning fog brought sounds coming from the ships in the bay, and the crashing and pounding of waves at high tide on the rocks will always remain in our childhood memories of living by the sea. The beach with miles of golden sands, summer days, and walking along with our dogs, collecting buckets of sea shells which we held to our ears listening to the sea from inside the shell.


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THE FOLLOWING STORIES ARE AN HISTORICAL RECORD OF MY PETS.
I hope the teens will enjoy reading.

I am going back in time.

When my sister and I were very young we each had a small Terrier dog named Bruce and Bingo. We used to dress them up in our doll’s clothes and take them for long walks in our prams. They came everywhere with us. As the dogs got bigger, we changed from prams to leads.

All too soon we grew up and had to go to work, but by that time Bruce and Bingo had become very old and gone to their dog heaven far away in the blue sky.
My first pet as a single girl was whilst I working for a Vet. A Breeder brought in the cutest little black haired spaniel and told my Boss to put the dog down, as it was the runt of the litter. My heart went out to this little pup, which I immediately called Tosca, and pleaded for his life. My mother set to work to bring him back to life and health. Because of our love for him, he soon thrived.

When I met my husband, he had a pointer called Shot. I now had two pets to keep me company. We all lived together in a house built up the side of a mountain with a forest behind us. The inhabitants of the forest had a variety of small animals and monkeys to tempt the two dogs into the forest to play and have fun. I would call them in for their meal at midday, then the rest of the day they stayed by my side, barking at every sound and noise made from the traffic on the road down below.

From the house, I had a scenic view of eighty miles of mountain ranges. At night when the moon was in full bloom, I could see right down the valley. The nights that were still and calm, one could hear a pin drop. The strangest sound I have ever listened to, was a cry or call that had the same even plaintive tone, neither soft nor loud, fast or slow, which went on for several hours. One day I asked our gardener what kind of bird or animal could make that sound I heard in a still and deep night.

“Oh it is a python’s love call; he is looking for a mate. These mountains are full of pythons.” I never queried this particular statement. After hours free from his official duties he was the local medicine man, so his word was law up here in the mountains.

A very reassuring new kind of entertainment took place at least once a week, when Farmer Gibbs’ dairy herd would pay us a visit about nine o’clock at night. We had built our house on the first level of the mountain, and the herd had to walk up a flight of 32 stone steps to pay us a visit. The head cow had a little bell that twinkled as she moved, their hooves clip clopped on the steps was comforting to our ears, and the visible sight of them roving leisurely round the garden.

My husband designed the house to have a complete look out views at the scenery, so the windows were fitted with glass from roof to ground. The herd munched on the sweet grass surrounding the house. When they had had their fill, with a couple of soft moos of satisfaction, they proceeded back down the steps, leaving behind their calling card (manure) which I dug into the grass.
One day Tosca arrived home on his own without Shot.

My husband immediately took Tosca with him to look for Shot. After they had hunted for 3 days, Tosca led him to where Shot was caught in a deadly trap. He was put out of his misery and suffering. Shot seemed to give my husband a grateful lick before he also went to his heaven in the sky.

A little while after the SPCA asked me to take in an enormous dog with a very loud bark, named by his previous owners as Giant. He and Tosca immediately became good friends, but Tosca’s days of frolicking in the forest were over, as Giant did not like to roam. My best friend lived in the forest just below my property. We made a path so we could visit each other every day. The two dogs always came with me. Sometimes they stayed over with her, as the big attraction was her two twin boys.

One day my husband came to tell me, we had to leave Rhodesia and go to a faraway country called Zambia. My best friend said, once she heard the news, “Because we have shared the dog’s affection between us for so long, she wanted them to come and live with her.” When it came time to leave, she brought the twins with her and they called to Tosca and Giant, in a sort of whistle and chant,” come home with us, it is our turn to have you and we love you.”
It was many years before I was able to give my heart to another dog.

One day quite unexpectedly a beautiful Irish Red Setter, Lark came into my life. Her owner was from the United States of America. Bill who hailed from California came to work for a company where my husband was Manager. To Bill’s dismay he realized he could not keep his pet cooped up in a flat while he was at work.

Our family became great friends over the years. Bill encouraged and helped us import another dog from Texas, called Rusty and a female we named Whisper from Pennsylvania. Bill was an expert dog trainer and organized obedience classes. We went to training sessions once a week. He helped us enter our dogs into championship shows. Rusty won a couple of Best in Show dog and Lark was so good at obedience she was probably the best-trained dog around for many years in Zambia.

We noticed at the Championship dog shows, the most popular breed with the Zambian on lookers were the Chows. There was always a big crowd round their Kennel. If they happened to get to close, the Chows growled ferociously at them showing little sharp white teeth, which encouraged the crowd to clap their hands, like a command performances on stage of the actors (being the dogs) in the ring. The audience of Zambians hung over the fence cheering on these funny little animals encouraging them to prance cheekily to show off their skills, posing for the Judge. The excited shouts of approval when a Chow took a first in his class was very funny and we all enjoyed as spectators the performance.

My children grew up with dogs, and learnt how to appreciate the qualities and love pets can give. Maxine the eldest named her pup Waggles, Gary my son just simply loved Rusty and all the dogs together. Heath my youngest son named his dog Sad Sack, because he looked like a character from a comic book about the U.S. Army. An artist friend of ours did a rather lovely oil painting of Rusty.
When Gary and Heath were very young, they used to lie on Rusty whilst watching T.V. Gary loved to suck his thumb and play with Rusty’s ears, which were long and full of feathered hair.

When we went on our holidays, Bill moved in to our house and take over while we were away. He loved staying in our home and garden. Naturally, he trained the dogs in obedience every day and put them through their paces. Grooming was part of his classes. We had well behaved dogs because of his care.

I left Zambia in l986 and arrived in Cape Town with my daughter, her husband and three grandchildren. The following is a short description of the various animals. We decided to get our dogs from the S.P.C.A. We have called the pets our “pavement specials.”

I now live in a suburb in Cape Town where my garden has many trees, which attract birds to come and roost in the branches. We have a variety of them, such as doves, finches, honey- birds. The starlings have nested in the roof, and they feed their babies at five o’clock in the evening. I love to listen to their cries Gulls come swooping in from the sea to land amongst the schoolchildren at break, padding and squawking in between their legs asking to share their lunch boxes.

We decided to have our dogs from the S.P.C.A.

Benji, the first dog to join us from the S.P.C.A. was the double look alike, spitting image of a lion. The beauty parlour used to groom him by giving him a lion cut. Benji used to stand upright at the gate and put his paws on the top and what with his bark, a loud gruff woof woof, showing enormous white teeth, frightened away unwanted strangers trying to come in. We never had people trying to open our gate and enter without one of us being aware or caught unprepared that some strange body was there because Benji was such a good guard dog. However, one night he did save my son- in –law Louis.

He happened to be working overtime and the staff bus dropped him off several blocks from home. Louis wanted to save time and not wake us; he decided to jump over the wall. He was attacked at the gate by four Hi-Jackers who must have been following him. They tried to beat him to death with rocks just so they could steal his hold all.

I heard the commotion so I quickly let Benji out the kitchen door. He ran with all his might to save his master. The Hi-Jackers fled screaming at the sight of him, as they thought he was a lion. I followed Benji and saw one of the criminals drop the rock he was holding on his foot as he tried to run off away from the roars of the lion or what he thought was a lion.

A description of Benji : he really did look like a lion as he had the same colouring, enormous big head and huge white teeth and paws to match. The beauty parlour gave him “a lions’ cut, even to the tuff of hair at the end of his tail.

Meetrum was a white Collie found wandering the streets. We took her in and much too our horror she proved to be an expert at tunnel digging. She dug so many deep holes in the garden, nothing helped to cure her. Frustration set in but I had the bright idea to landscape the garden around her holes. I planted trees and shrubs wherever she dug. Meetrum was very protective of my granddaughter. She was always on guard, when they went out walking, she let no strangers near her. One day we were out on a walk when a man stopped to ask the way. Meetrum jumped on top of him and growled fiercely in his face. It took us sometime to pull her off him.

Snowy was a tiny little round ball of white fluff. There is quite a bit of Poodle in her heritage. She is an absolute darling. Snowy lived next door with a Korean family, and they asked if we would like to have her as they were leaving to go back to Korea. The day arrived when the family handed Snowy with much ado and fuss to us over the garden wall. Rachel and the Koreans were good friends, and Snowy was quite accustomed to play games with everyone at our house so we knew her really well and she had no trouble settling in.

When I bought the house, the tortoises came with the sale. We call them the married couple. It was ten years before they produced a baby. Sarah in the Biblical Old Testament story, was ninety years old before she conceived a child. Unlike Sarah, once the tortoise family started breeding, babies had a habit of making an appearance over several years.

Mr. and Mrs. Tortoise are now the proud parents of seven children of different ages. The dogs walk around with them, always fascinated by the way the tortoises move as their heads come out unexpectedly from the shell. The dogs snort and sniff at these strange creatures trying very hard to play with them. I have learnt to imitate the tortoise sound, which is a bleat just like a lamb. I call to them and slowly they answer by appearing from among the plants and rocks.

The tortoises it seems have acquired a human weakness, “A sweet tooth.” There is competition between them and the doves are greedy for the juicy bits of fruit and lettuce leaves. Apples are definitely high on the menu of a favorite dish in our garden.

Rachel, my granddaughter at four years old loved birds. She had a spot in the garden where she sat for hours in front of the big birdcage housing finches and other small birds. One day I saw her sitting on her stool right in the cage. “Rachel please takes care not to leave the door open. All the birds will fly away, which will make you sad to see an empty cage.” “Oh Granny I love to sit among the birds.”

One very sad day the door was wide open while Rachel stood in an empty cage crying her heart out. I saw the finches and the other birds on top of the garage roof. The finches thank goodness eventually decided to remain and take up residence and make their homes in the trees.

Also on top of the garage roof with the finches was our lovebird, Dicky. However much I tried to entice him down, he would have none of it. Suddenly to my dismay, he up and flew off. I ran after him keeping him in my sight, for four long streets. I followed him in hot pursuit, to the tennis courts where he landed on the clubhouse roof. Dicky sat watching me cool as a cucumber. Panting and out of breath, my face as red as a beetroot, and just about ready to drop with extreme heat and exertion.

It did not help me feeling a complete idiot, because I kept calling to him in a sing song ( I have a somewhat flat voice like my mother) with my arms outstretched to him entreating “Come Dicky come home with me.” Dicky seemed to give me a haughty look before he flew off.

One of my friends, who happened to be playing a game of social tennis, said he had bred several lovebirds and once free, they will try to evade being caught. Dicky will fly on and on until he drops. Two exhausted hours later, I gave up, and trudged home in tears, exhausted and thirsty. I saw Rachel at the gate “Granny did you catch Dicky,” the distress on her little face made it even worse.
Birds in a cage are not for me anymore. I took her round the garden to see how much nicer it is to see how happy they were to have freedom. To console her I also had to tell her a lovely long fairy tale story etc. about another little girl who would find Dicky and love him lots.

Roxy: - Rachel’s school pal gave her Roxy. She looks like a miniature Collie. She has black soft silky hair, white socks, and an extra ordinary tail that circles round like a cartwheel over her back. The tail looks as though she has gone to the hairdresser salon to have these special blond streaks.
She is clever, perky and cheeky. The leader of the gang and the first one to set off the rest of the dogs barking at anyone who venture to near the gate, encouraging the others to follow her, in a loud uncontrolled manner, but I have come to the conclusion it is all bark and no bite.

Her owner gave Bonnie to us in desperation. This is quite a common occurrence. Children love a puppy that has an appealing look and beautiful coat, which is all black, with an artistic white design painted on her chest. She is part Lab, and something else. She has stopped shivering in fright and settled in very nicely.

Her very favourite pastime is to run with my son in law’s socks in her mouth. Louis works on cranes and probably the smell attracts her. Another item is her tennis ball she runs around madly with it in her mouth, with and deposits on our lap or neck, depending on where we are sitting. She loves everyone and has so much of it to dish out. Still at the puppy stages, she is tall and gangly, and sometimes her legs look doubled jointed when she is playing with the other dog.

Emily: My first sight of Emily was when she was about two weeks old. Siphiwe a young lad who is always on a mission to rescue abandoned dogs from shack town, held her up in the palm of his hand. I saw a tiny puppy dressed in dolls clothes. “Granny come and say hello to Emily.” Astonished at what I saw her, I said, “Where on earth did you find her?” His reply made me feel sick. “On the rubbish dump Granny where they threw her away to die.

He told me that she was under treatment at the Veterinary clinic. Siphiwe is on a rescue mission to save dogs from township cruelty. He has a standing arrangement with the Vet to keep his dogs healthy. He can only cope with one dog at a time. Siphiwe’s mode of transport is a grocery trolley in which he and his dog of the moment live.

For me it was love at first sight, when I first glimpsed Emily’s enormous ears. “Granny do you want her.” Siphiwe has been in this area at least ten years, and we all help him survive. People around here like what they see, and help by donating clothes for him to wear, The fish monger, and 7/all feed him , and also give him pellets and milk etc., or whatever he requires for the patient residing in the grocery trolley, now doubled up as a hospital bed. The Hospice donated blankets cushions and clothing in general and look after his personal things. Recently he was given a little tent as a present, and the police have granted him permission to set it up in the corner of the police station.

Siphiwe has kept one of his rescued dogs, giving him the original name “Blackie”. I have been babysitting Blackie while he went to visit his mother who lives quite far away. Blackie fitted in very well with all of us. He is amiable and gentle just like his master. Blackie is the oddest built dog. His body is fine, slightly long and narrows with a very pretty head full of expression and colouring, but the mismatch is his legs. It looks as though he is walking on stilts. If he flops down on the divan, his legs take up all the room. Emily and Bonnie growl when he tries to jump up, because they know they will have to vacate their positions.

Blackie has the sweetest nature, and fit in very well with my household, I had no trouble with him adjusting. A very well trained dog, when one considers where he lives. Makes one think a little about what really is important in life and how we cope with it.

When Siphiwe arrived back from his visit, to fetch Blackie, I was quite tearful. He was so excited to see his master and the absolute happiness written all over his face made me think of one of those movies when everyone set off into the sunset. This was our movie, Blackie jumped onto the trolley glad once again back in his home, i.e. the trolley, he gave a joyful bark and off they went into the morning sun down the street of my suburb.

Emily’s set of ears must be the envy of Alsatian breeders who dread floppy ears, if any of their dogs have the misfortune to have them. They would actually sigh with envy at the sight of Emily’s ears, which clearly resemble radar signals. When she is alert and on guard the ears are still, and erect moving at varying degrees as her moods swings back and forth. When she is playing with Bonnie Emily’s ears go straight back especially when I see her running toward me.

I often see a resemblance to an l930 pilot flying one of those open planes, with goggles and leatherhead gear. Her ears are a perfect designed radar system fashioned by nature.

Emily is a very unusual dog. She walks by my left foot and in time to my movement. She keeps pace, if I walk fast, she does as well, if I start to slow done, the same, when I stand still, she sits down and waits for me to start up and the same procedure is followed. When I sit down, she sits by my feet.
Bad habits not to develop: Forbid your dogs to lie cuddled in your back, or on your feet, or to snuggle under the blankets in winter.

Chairs are their next favourite spot just too simply relax in. I struggle to get them off. (A losing battle) Never give them tit bits from the table. At dinnertime, the rush is on to get into a good position to snatch a tasty piece. My “Sit and take nicely” and so our dogs obey such a delicious command.
My New Year is wish that careless owners really looked after their pets and realize their love is beamed off from them to you. I hope many more young children in their communities help the S.P.C.A. so they can in turn teach the public to help more animals. The young can give so much more of their time to such a cause.


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CHRISTMAS STORY

Once upon a modern time a little girl named Alice lived in a wheel chair. Her room was full of the wonderful technological toys. She also had internet, T.V, Cell phones, I pod, C.D.s D.V.D.s and a wall full of books to keep her occupied.
However the best part of the day, was her mother taking her outside to the park near her home. Alice loved to watch the children play with their pets. She became accustomed to patting and making friends with the dogs.

Father Christmas always made it his business to take note of what happened down on earth. At the annual general meeting, with the elves and staff, they agreed that giving presents to children should be revised to a more considerate way so some children really in need of their hearts desire would receive their gifts.

On Christmas morning, Alice was awakened to a funny little noise from her stocking on the mantle. “Mommy, Daddy” she cried, “Come and see what Father Christmas brought me.”

Peeping out of the stocking was a little puppy. Her mother took the puppy out of the stocking and put it in Alice’s out stretched arms. “I shall call him Noel.”


This is for my sister and her Israeli family, especially her three beautiful grandchildren all under six years. One day when they are a little older, they will see another side of their Granny. She spoke only English to them, as her son wanted his children to speak both languages.

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