A New Entry from Maurice

 

Dear Book:
            I know it’s been a long time since I wrote on your pages. I lost my pen. It must have been the last time I wrote, but I looked and looked and it was gone.
            I couldn’t borrow one, because, well, nobody in the Great Forest has a pen. Not even Ramona!
            So, I was in the kitchen in this old house. There is no food here. I already looked. I was looking out of the kitchen window. There used to be a garden behind the house, but it’s all baby trees out there now.
            I decided to look in drawers and cupboards for a pencil or something I didn’t notice before because I was looking for something I could eat. Well, guess what Book? There was a pencil in the drawer by the sink. It’s yellow, and cracked, and the eraser is gone. I guess I better not make mistakes!
            So then I decided to sit down and think about writing something. I practiced a little with the pencil, but I needed to chew some of the wood off the end so it would make a line. That’s what I was doing when I heard somebody walking outside.
            I’m a howler. A howler is not a dog. I was smelling a lot of dog. Too much dog. It was like super doggy. Man, Book, it was rank!
            Rank and stank rhyme, funny!
            I had one of those turkeys Ramona cooks. It was leftover from dinner, so she gave it to me last night. I couldn’t eat with that stank going on. Then there was a big loud crash right across the room from my bed on the floor. Something broke the door open. I was never able to get it open. Well, Book, it was open now.
            A thing that looked like a dog, but too big, like nearly as tall as Ralph big, stood sniffing at the doorway and then came in here! He was walking on two legs like me or a man, or a Forest Man, or a chicken. I didn’t know whether to run, or fight!
            I don’t think he knew I was here.
            “Hey,” I said. He kind of jumped and stared at me.
            “Who are you?” said this doggy giant thing, baring his big teeth at me.
            “Maurice, a true Howler,” said I.
            “I want that bird,” said the dog.
            “So do I,” I said. “Who are you?”
            “Gnrr,” he said. I didn’t know if that was a name or a threat of some kind.
            “Just hold on.” I said. “Didn’t Ralph send you away once?”
            “Gnrr don’t owe anything to that big monkey,” he said. So it was a name after all.
            He was black as the bottom of a bucket of used oil. All I could see was teeth and red eyeballs.
            “You want to go talk to Ralph about that?” said I to the big dope.
            “Ah, crap, no. Don’t tell Ralph!” and he snuffled a little bit. What a pup!
            “Sit down, why don’t you? We can both eat this turkey. I won’t tell if you shove off. Ralph won’t want you hanging around,” I said as kindly as I could, considering who I was inviting to dinner.
            I kid you not, Book, me and the dog thing ate turkey together. He finished off the bones too. There wasn’t a grease spot left when we were done. He licked the floor!
            “Don’t tell Ralph,” said Gnrr.
            “Oh, he probably already knows,” said I, by way of encouragement. Book, you should have seen him!
            “I’m out. Think I’ll walk down to town,” he said. Then all 8 or 9 foot of the dog stood up and took off, leaving nothing but a whiff of super canine behind.
            I went and pushed the door back into place. That’s all. The visit was over.
            I’m going to be careful not to lose this pencil. I don’t think there is another one in the whole Great Forest, unless you count the campground, which isn’t really in the Great Forest, just close to it.
 
Maurice, a true Howler

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