LITMIR.BIZ

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bad – happened: Cuddles started making really weird and really loud noises. I knew this was a distress call.

      Mrs. Wardman went over and looked in his aquarium. Kaitlyn asked if we could look too and she said yes. We all got up and stood around the aquarium and that’s when Cuddles jumped into the glass wall and fell backwards. Then he got up and did it three more times. On the fourth time, he stayed still and didn’t make any more croaking noises.

      I was really worried that he had zoochosis, which is what animals can get when they’re taken out of their natural environment and put in teeny cages. It’s kind of like psychosis – which is what humans get when they’re driven crazy like in solitary confinement in prisons. All you have to do is visit just about any zoo and you’ll see zoochosis. It’s when big cats pace back and forth, back and forth, bears and elephants sway from side to side, and the giraffes twist their necks over and over again. I think it must be extra hard to be in a zoo if you’re a giraffe – such a long neck and nothing to look forward to.

      I asked Mrs. Wardman if she thought Cuddles was sick or something, and she said, ‘No, he’s fine.’

      I’m not at all sure about that. My guess is that Mrs. Wardman is wrong even more than my mother is.

      I looked carefully at Cuddles in his aquarium and I wondered if maybe the water at the bottom had too much chlorine in it. Or maybe he needed more than the fake tree branch to climb on. Or maybe he doesn’t like the feeling of the big rock under his sticky-pad feet when he climbs up on it to get out of the water. Or maybe he doesn’t like the dead crickets and mealy bugs that Mrs. Wardman buys for him at the pet store – most frogs will only eat insects that are moving. Or maybe the pine chips at the bottom of the tank are not the right kind for him? Do they even have pine trees in Australia? There are so many things that could be wrong for Cuddles because that glass aquarium is not his natural habitat.

      I was still so worried about Cuddles that just before bed I called Grammie to see if she knew what might be wrong with him. She used to work as a biologist and knows more about animals and plants than anyone else I know.

      The phone rang and rang and rang. I was about to hang up when finally she answered. She sounded like she had been sleeping even though it was only 8:30. I think she sleeps a lot these days. Even when she’s awake she looks a little like she’s sleeping.

      ‘Oh, Phin, it’s you, sweetheart,’ she said. She sounded happy it was me but her voice was quieter than it used to be.

      Since I hadn’t talked with her in a few weeks, I told Grammie all about how there’s a White’s tree frog trapped in a glass aquarium in my Grade 4 class.

      ‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ she said.

      ‘You think so? Nobody else seems to think so.’

      ‘Well, there are different opinions about that, honey, but if it makes you feel any better, I think White’s tree frogs belong in trees.’

      It did make me feel better. But my grandmother said she didn’t know what could be wrong with Cuddles. I’m going to keep a close eye on him.

      A few days ago, I emailed my dad a story about the very last Ozie couple on Reull. I worked really hard on it because I really wanted him to like it. Because he’s a journalist, I think he’ll be proud of me if I can show him that I can write really good stories.

      I got nervous when I was just about to press the Send button. I read over the story again. It looked to me like I’d gotten all the grammar and spelling right, and that it had a beginning, middle and an end, just like they teach you in Language Arts. But to be sure, I asked my mom to read it first. She said it was incredible and that I’m a fabulous writer. But Mom would say that even if all I wrote was my name.

      Here is my story:

      On Reull there was a small animal called an Ozie that looked like a dog but that was no larger than a rat. The Ozie absorbed carbon dioxide through its skin and cleaned the air just like plants do. Its digestive system made the carbon dioxide into Ozone, which it farted out all the time. The Ozone farts floated up into the sky and healed the atmosphere of Reull.

      The problem is, there were only two Ozies left – one male and one female.

      One day, the last two Ozies went out for a walk and were captured by a Gorach scientist who was hiding in the jungle. The scientist put the Ozies in a cage where they cried and cried. He thought about how he could make hundreds of Ozies in his lab to heal Reull’s atmosphere. He got more and more excited as he thought about how the other Gorachs would love him now that he’d found a solution to all of their problems.

      But then later that night, the scientist looked at the Ozies, wondering what they would taste like. They looked a bit like a creature he had tasted before – the Coonit. The Coonit was one of the most favourite foods of the Gorachs. The richest Gorachs got to eat Coonit every day and the poorer Gorachs were very jealous of this.

      The scientist tried really hard not to think of cooking the Ozie. But each time he heard one of them fart, the more he drooled and drooled. Each fart was like the smell of a Coonit to him.

      Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He grabbed the screaming and farting male Ozie and killed it and cooked it up to eat. It tasted even better than he had imagined – even better than a Coonit. He was so excited about its taste that he ate it all in about three seconds.

      The scientist still had the taste of the Ozie in his mouth when he killed the female Ozie without even thinking. After she was cooked and eaten, the scientist screamed in horror. He had just discovered the Ozie, which could have been the solution to many Gorach problems, but then, because of his appetite, he ate the very last one.

      Then I drew a picture of the last Ozie couple ever. I drew what they were thinking in a thought bubble. They were thinking, ‘Help, help,’ and even though all the other animals in the web of life on Reull heard their thought, nobody could do anything about it. They all cried, which made the Ozies cry all the harder, and that Ozie couple died knowing only fear and sadness.

      After I sent my story, I checked the email every chance I got. It took my dad forty-one hours to write back. This is what he wrote:

      Dear Phin,

      I am impressed! That is a wonderful story and an excellent example of a satire. I really enjoyed reading it and hope that you’ll continue to write and to send me your work.

      I hope you and Mom are doing well. Right now I’m in France covering the labour riots. I hope to get a chance to call you within the next few days. Say hi to your mom for me. Love, Dad xoxo

      I went to find my mother. She was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. When I started to talk, she raised her finger to say just a minute. I sat down and counted the tiles from one end of the kitchen to the other. Still twenty-seven. Then she said, ‘Sorry, Phin, just wanted to finish reading that story I wrote.’

      ‘Don’t you already know what comes next?’

      Mom laughed and said, ‘Well, sometimes the editor changes things around.’

      ‘Mom, Dad says hi.’

      ‘Thanks, Phin. How is your dad?’

      ‘I think fine. He liked my Ozie story.’

      ‘It’s an incredible story.’

      ‘What’s a satire?’ I asked my mom.

      ‘Well, it’s when someone writes something that ridicules people or things happening in society. Why?’

      ‘Because Dad says my story is a satire. But how could I have written a satire if I didn’t even know what satire meant?’

      ‘Well, Phin, we don’t have to have a word for something before we understand what it is.’

      I thought about that for a moment. ‘I guess that makes sense.’

      ‘Remember irony? Satire is a bit like irony,’ said my mom.

      My mom explained irony

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