儿童故事集：Astropup And The Space Hounds’ Chief

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This is Richard, and I’m here with the next instalment in our saga¹ about Astropup the space travelling dog. If you have heard the last episode you will know that Astropup and his companion Marlow are on a mission to capture a cat person. Unfortunately, their spaceship has been hijacked² by a six legged hound, armed with a laser gun. At this point, Astropup is going to take up the story again .

 

If you have never been into space before, I had better explain what it is like. Well it is big, bigger than you can even dream of, pretty empty, dark, no smell, very boring, and above all quiet. We were now hurtling through it, but for once, space was noisy – Why? It had never happened before. Was something wrong with our ship? The sound went like this:

 

‘MEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!’

 

The space hound pointed³ his nose and his gun all round the control room, looking at the ceiling, the floors, the walls… before grunting⁴.

 

“Hmm, me thinks the cat people are pursuing us.”

 

“Nothing on the radar,” replied Marlow, his eyes on the screen.

 

“This better not be a trick,” growled⁵ the hound.

 

Marlow continued checking the ship’s systems. “I think it’s coming from the airlock. The sound is resonating through the intercom. The internal communications switched back on when I fired up the booster rocket. There must be a cat person, or perhaps persons, trapped in there.”

 

I translated this into dog woof.

 

“Ho, ho, ho,” said the hound. “That is good. I shall make this cat person or perhaps persons into slippers⁶ and give them to my wife.”

 

“Oh no,” I barked. “Don’t do that. Our orders are to capture a cat person and take it back to Earth.”

 

“Earth?” he said. “We’re not going to Earth. You are my prisoners and the only place you are heading is the Dwarf⁷ Planet called Baskerville. Let me see the ship’s computer. Ha, these are the wrong coordinates⁸. Out of my way!” And he barged Marlow to one side. He was a big powerful animal you see, with muscles rippling⁹ through his fur, huge shoulders and awesomely¹⁰ scary jaws¹¹.

 

The laser gun was hanging by a strap¹² from his thick neck. He used his hands with surprising dexterity¹³ on the computer keyboard, and pulled up all sorts of charts on the screen. “We are going the wrong way,” he complained. “You think you can fool me, hey, Earth weakling? But I am not so dumb. I see through all your tricks because I am an engineer. Now I will fix this.”

 

He was pressing buttons and touching¹⁴ the screen with his nose.

 

“What are you doing?” I asked anxiously.

 

“I am programming in the right flight path,” he said. “I know my worm holes like I know my right paw. We will be there in no time.”

 

No time, as it turned out, lasted four days. It was not exactly a bundle of laughs travelling with a six limbed Rottweiler who looked like he wanted to eat us for breakfast, but although I was full of anxiety, I was also curious to see what kind of civilisation¹⁵ my near relations from another planet might have built. I know from Earth, as you probably do too, that most of us dogs are playful, loyal, and warm hearted. If you are a child, or smallish dog like me, you always have to be aware that a few of our kind are scary and can bite and do worse, but they are the few. As I say, most of us are good. I was confident that a world run by dogs would be a kind place, full of love, loyalty¹⁶, and gravy¹⁷.

When we came into orbit, the Rottweiler was soon in touch with his mission control. I never thought I would hear woofs and barks over the airwaves, as they guided us into land. We touched down on some soft peaty ground. We left the captive cat person meowing in the air lock while we jumped out of the emergency hatch. Ah the atmosphere had a rich smell… peat, wood, a touch of smoke, and a distinct scent¹⁸ of squirrel. It would have been canine¹⁹ heaven were it not for the laser gun pointing into our backs. We walked over to the woods, and down a path. Still there was no sign of habitation, until at last we came out the other side of the trees. Now there was a sight to behold²⁰ – a small town made up entirely²¹ of kennels²²! As we progressed through the middle of the inhabitation, we saw that it was a family orientated²³ place, full of puppies and mothers, and proud looking fathers with their tails high. Not all of them had extra arms with hands. Most were ordinary quadruped dogs like me. That was nice to see. The six limbed ones were guarding captive cat people as they worked with saws and hammers and spades, to build kennels and dig roads.

 

Behind the town was a hill, fortified²⁴ by a wall, and beyond the wall we could see all sorts of spaceships parked there.

 

“Hey,” said Marlow, “aren’t those feline²⁵ vehicles?”

 

“Too right,” said the hound. “We captured them when we escaped from the Planet of the Cats. You shall meet our leader. If he is in a good mood, perhaps he will give you dinner and tell you our story.”

“Oh dinner would be nice,” I yapped cheerfully.

But then I could not help asking the obvious question – the one that was perhaps best left unasked:

“And what if he is in a bad mood?”

The Rottweiler drew one of those freaky fingers of his across his fat neck and said:

“CCCCCCCCCCIKH!”

 

The compound of the spacecraft was a different sort of place. It became clear that six legged dogs were living in the craft. Some of them were speaking on mobile phones. Others were polishing laser guns. One was riding on a sort of hover²⁶ motorcycle. Whereas down in the village there was a genial²⁷, happy atmosphere. Here everyone was serious and quite fierce. I could see how our captor fitted in.

 

“Can you tell us what kind of breed your leader is?” I enquired²⁸.

 

“You will see soon enough,” he replied. I hoped the top dog was something like a good natured labrador. I feared a miniature dog most, like a chihuahua. Some of them, in my experience, suffer from small dog complex, and can be surprisingly bad tempered and snappy at times.

 

We came to the largest craft of all, a kind of mother ship. It was odd to see it here, for it was shaped like the face of cat, complete with whiskers and pointy ears. The shoot that led up into its interior was like its jaws. We were walking into the mouth of a cat. I shudder²⁹ to recall it. Horrible it was, even though it had fallen into the paws of dogs.

 

It was not the first time I had been inside a cat ship. I recalled there were tanks full of fish and mice, and cats living up in sort of branches at the top. But it soon became apparent that this had been redecorated entirely, and not necessarily in the most obvious canine taste.

“Oh,” I said softly, “I think I know somebody who would like it here.”

That person was actually my former comrade and travelling companion, now elevated to the perch³⁰ of World President. You see, the whole ship was decked out in just his idea of luxury and comfort. The air was hot and steamy and filled with the sounds of tweets and squarks. Big pots contained tropical trees and colourful flowers. Wire cages, packed with nuts, hung from the branches. Pretty little birds and butterflies were fluttering around here and there. It was a birds’ paradise.

But the general surroundings did nothing to lesson our surprise when we walked into the audience chamber³¹ and saw, up on a perch, standing³² on one leg, and clutching a phone with his other claw, none other than: A Parrot.

 

At first I thought he was the Parrot. So did Marlow because he fell down on his knees, and I swear he was crying… yes the ice cool dude was trembling and shedding tears!

 

“Oh No, No! Tell me this isn’t true, not him!!!! NOT HIM!!!! No, Mother, please tell me it isn’t him!!!! It can’t be… it’s too horrific.“

 

“Hmmm,” said the bird, hanging up his call. “Why is this wretch³³ snivelling so?”

 

“Surely you remember him,” I said, “He’s Marlow.”

 

“I always remember a face, and I can tell you I’ve never met the fellow,” said the Parrot.

 

Well perhaps he was not so well acquainted with Marlow.

 

“And me? Do you remember me, your trusty companion?” I asked, bemused.

 

“I’ve seen many a dumb animal before, but not you,” said the Parrot.

 

And then it dawned upon me. Yes he looked exactly like the bird I had shared many adventures with, but his voice – that was the give-away – it had a slightly different timbre³⁴. And his mannerisms. The way he stood on one leg and texted with the other claw, all at the same time as speaking to us. I had never seen our Parrot pull off that trick. This was a slightly different parrot. Another feathered being who shared much in common with the one we knew.

 

“Excuse us,” I woofed. “We mistook you for someone else. You see, where we come from, back on Planet Earth, that’s the big blue one that goes around the sun you know, our World President is a Parrot just like you.”

 

“Well, naturally,” said the parrot. “We parrots are born leaders.”

 

“Get up Marlow,” I woofed. “It’s not him. It’s another parrot.”

 

Marlow seemed to understand this and burst again into tears.

 

“No, no, not two of them, it can’t be, “ he sobbed³⁵. “What has the Universe done to deserve this?”

 

The parrot ignored him. He was clearly thinking. After a while he said: “I would very much like to meet this Presidential Parrot of yours.”

 

“I expect he would like to meet you,” I said. “You’ve got a lot in common.”

 

“We are light years away from Earth, but I presume you must have got here down some worm hole. Will you take me to your planet and do us the honour of an introduction with your great leader? I believe he’s a bird I could do business with.”

 

“Well, certainly,” I replied.

 

But inwardly I wondered if there could really be room enough in one solar system for two such great egos³⁶.

 

Thank you Astropup for that exciting and unexpected development. And you left us with a very good question. If anyone is as eager as I am to know the answer, tune³⁷ in soon to the next episode of Astropup on Storynory.com.

 

By the way, if you enjoy our stories, you can always drop by with comments on the website, or leave some kind remarks on iTunes in the Kids and Family section.

 

For now from me. Richard.

 

Goodbye.

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