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MR.BEAKY#3

Story #5 and #6

Moonand back graphics
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MR.BEAKY
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                                                       Mr Beaky and Goldie.
     It was almost Marcs eighth birthday and he asked his parents if he could have a dog for his birthday.
    Well said his Dad, What about Mr. Beaky.
  Oh I still love Mr Beaky, hes fun but you cant play with him like you can with a dog. Marc explained.
   Well, well see said Mr Swann.
   The birthday arrived. Marc woke with something wet on his face; he opened his eyes and saw a pup licking his face.
   Springing up he hugged the pup, Oh! He exclaimed you beautiful thing then looking at his parents who were standing beside his bed watching with a big smile, he said, Thanks Mum thanks Dad, hes beautiful.
    Actually he is a she, she is a Golden Labrador said his father.
   Marc kept hugging the pup, Ill call her Goldie he said.
   Mr. And Mrs. Swann left rhe room.
   Put the pup down and have a wash and get dressed Mrs. Swann told Marc as she left the room.
   After breakfast Marc ran into the back yard with the pup at his heels.
   Going up to Mr. Beakys cage he said, Look Mr Beaky, look what I got for my birthday, isnt she beautiful.
   Mr Beaky looked at what was with Marc in horror.
  Oh! Not one of those terrible things he thought, It might be only small now but they grow big and hateful.
   Marc opened the cage door but Mr. Beaky refused to come out.
  Come on Br. Beaky, come out and play, Marc coached.  
   But Mr. Beaky retreated to the back of his cage and sat on his perch sulking.
   Marc played with Goldie all morning ignoring Mr. Beaky.
  Mr Beaky sulking in his cage thought to himself, Thats how it is going to be now, that thing will get all Marcs attention and I will be forgotten.
   He let forth a loud squawk.
   After lunch Marc came out, with the pup at his feet and opened the door of Mr.Beakys cage.
  Come on Mr.Beaky, stop sulking and come out to play.
  Mr. Beaky got off his perch and walked to the door and spotting the pup at Marcs feet nipped him on the nose.
  There he thought, Take that.
   Poor Goldie yelped with pain. Marc picked her up.
  Oh! You naughty bird he said, If you are going to be like that you can go back into your cage.
   Putting the pup down Marc tried to catch Mr. Beaky but Mr. Beaky kept running away, squawking loudly.
  Goldie thought it was a game and started chasing Mr. Beaky yapping at him, this made Mr. Beaky run and squawk more.
   Mrs Swann came out wondering what was going on.
  When Marc told her what had happened she managed to catch Mr. Beaky and put him on his favourite limb in the tree.
   Every day after that, when Mr Beaky was let out of his cage every chance he got he would nip at poor Goldie, on the nose or paw or grab her tail.
   Finally, Marc had had enough, he put Mr. Beaky in his cage and spoke severely to him.
   If you are going to be like that, Mr. Beaky you can stay in your cage all the time.
    Mr Beaky sat on his perch eyeing the pup off.
  Horrible thing, I dont know why Marc likes it, it doesnt have nice feathers like mine. He thought to himself flapping his wings just to show off his feathers, It doesnt have a pretty comb like mine either he thought raising his comb to show it off, not that anyone was watching him.
   Mr. Beaky continued to sulk.
  After a few of days of being in his cage all the time and Marc paying no attention to him, except for giving him fresh water and seed, Mr Beaky decided he wanted to come out.
   Mr. Beaky wanna play. Mr. Beaky wanna play. He squawked.
   Marc opened the door and Mr. Beaky jumped onto his arm.
  Mr Beaky good boy he said.
   Eventually Mr. Beaky and Goldie became good friends, playing together even when Marc wasnt there.
   When Goldie got big enough, Mr. Beaky would sit on her back and she would give him rides round the back yard.
   Mr. Beaky discovered another good thing about Goldie; she chased all the stray cats away.
  I dont like cats, theyre worse than dogs He thought, remembering the one that stole one of his beautiful feathers.

                                                         The End

                                   (Not quite yet)                                                             

 

Moonandbackgraphics
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Painter by Tom Sierak



                                                   Mr. Beaky Learns To Fly.

                         

 

    One afternoon when Marc got home from school, he ran in the back door shouting, "Mum, I'm home, can I have something to eat please, I'm hungry?'

    "Goodness! No need to shout Marc, I'm not deaf" replied his mother. "Change your clothes first, then you can have an apple."

    Marc changed his clothes, then grabbing an apple and with Goldie at his heels he ran outside to share it with his pet cockatoo, Mr Beaky.

    Marc was surprised that Mr Beaky wasn't waiting for him just outside the door as he usually was, when he got home from school

. He ran to Mr Beaky's favourite tree and called up into it. "My Beaky, I've got

an apple, you want some?" There was no answer. "Mr Beaky, Mr Beaky," Marc called again, but still there was no answer, Marc got annoyed and stamped his foot, "Mr Beaky, you come down at once or I'll eat it all myself."

    Silence, Marc looked up into the tree, he couldn't see the bird anywhere. "He must be in one of his moods and hiding from me," thought Marc. "I'll pretend to be eating all the apple myself, that will bring him out."

    Marc walked round the back yard, munching on the apple, looking in all Mr Beaky's hiding places, but didn't find him.

He began to feel worried, and ran inside to his mother. "Mum, have you seen Mr Beaky? He anxiously asked his mother, "I can't find him."

    "No dear," answered his mother, "I've been out all afternoon, so I haven't seen him since lunch time. "Have you looked in all his favourite places?"

    "I've looked everywhere, Mum, he's gone, where can he be?" Poor little Marc was in tears.

    Mrs Swann took her son in her arms. "Don't cry dear, he can't be far away, it's not as if he could fl...oh!" Mrs Swann stopped, she had just remembered her husband saying that very morning, that Mr Beaky's wing needed clipping again.

    "Oh dear!" thought Mrs Swann, "he must have discovered he could fly, how will I tell Marc?" She took Marc by the hand and walked over to the sofa and sat down with him, "Marc, dear, Mr Beaky's wing had grown and your father was going to clip it this afternoon, but I'm afraid Mr Beaky may have

discovered he could fly and has flown away." She tried to break it gently to her sobbing son.

    "Mr Beaky wouldn't go away, Mr Beaky wouldn't leave me, Mummy, something must have happened to him," sobbed Marc.

    Mrs Swann wiped the tears from her sons face. "I promise, if Mr Beaky hasn't returned by morning, your father will put an add in the daily paper."

                                     ------------------

 

 

    To find out what happened to Mr Beaky, we must go back to just after lunch that afternoon:

    Mr Beaky climbed down from his tree where he had spent a quiet morning and was waddling to the back door when he saw a strange cat, it was a big ginger one, now Mr Beaky didn't like cats, not since he lost a tail feather to one that had attacked him, and especially, he didn't like them being in his domain.

      Mr Beaky looked for Goldie who usually chased any stray cats away but Mrs Swann had taken him out with her.

     He turned to chase the cat away, himself  but this cat wasn't going to be chased, he stood his ground.

    With back arched and fur on end he spat at Mr Beaky.

    Mr Beaky was taken aback, he hesitated, and the cat pounced, Mr Beaky jumped.

    The cat was between Mr Beaky and his tree, so he ran for the opposite fence wings spread and flapping and to his surprise he felt himself lift off the ground so he flapped harder and reached the top of the fence.

   "Safe," he thought. But he wasn't safe for long; the cat sprang onto the fence as well.

   The cat and bird eyed each other off;  Mr Beaky began to shake. "What will I do now?"

   Then he remembered. "I can fly, I will fly away, cats can't fly, goodbye, good bye, Mr Cat." squawked Mr Beaky as he flew off, revelling in his newly learned prowess.

    When Mr Beaky had flown around a few times, swooping and banking, testing his wings, he decided he would fly further and have a look at the world from above.

    Mr Beaky had flown over a couple of rows of houses when he saw something unusual, it was a man on a trestle, painting a house.

   Mr Beaky had never seen anything like this before, so he flew down to take a closer look, he landed on the man's shoulder, so he could see what he was doing.

    Startled, the man yelped.

    Grabbing hold of the guttering he knocked Mr Beaky off his shoulder, in the process he kicked the tin of paint, which fell to the ground, spilling bright green paint everywhere.

    Mr Beaky, in his surprise, forgot to fly and fell with a thump onto the ground right in the middle of the spilt paint.

    The man climbed down the ladder yelling at Mr Beaky, "Get out of here, you stupid bird, what do you think you are doing?"

   Flinging his arms around he came at Mr Beaky.

    Mr Beaky, stunned from the fall and wings sticky and heavy with paint, tried to fly away but couldn't quite make it up, and flew into a sheet hanging on the clothes line then fell back into a basket of wet clothes.

    A woman came running out of the house with a broom yelling. "Get out of my clean clothes, you stupid bird, look at the mess you have made," She swiped at him with the broom.

    Mr Beaky jumped out of the basket with a piece of cloth caught on one of his claws, he tried to fly again but still couldn't make it into the air.

    Both the man and woman came at Mr Beaky, yelling at him.

   The woman swiping at him with the broom, and the man with a lawn rake he had picked up.

   Poor Mr Beaky was very confused, he turned and ran towards a garden patch, demolishing the

small plants that were in it, making the man angrier still.

    Mr Beaky ran around the yard, flapping his wings, wishing he was home, all of a sudden to his joy he realized he was flying, although rather a little lopsided, because of the

'thing' hanging from his claw, but joy, oh joy he was getting away from those terrible people.

    Mr Beaky landed in the first big tree he spotted and chewed off the 'thing' hanging from his foot. "Oh boy! Am I glad to be rid of that," he thought. Settling down to have a rest before he headed for home.

    When Mr Beaky woke up it was dark so he decided to stay where he was till morning. Hungry, lonely and all sticky from the paint Mr Beaky didn't have a very good night.

    Next morning, Mr Beaky woke wondering why he was still in his tree and not in his cage.

   Looking around for Marc, he didn't recognize the tree; then he remembered his terrible experience of the afternoon before.

   Desiring all the more to go home to Marc and food, Mr Beaky flew up and took a look around, he didn't know where he was or which way was home, so spotting a tall tree in the distance, which he thought might be his, he flew towards it.

    Before Mr Beaky reached the tree he new it wasn't home because there were no houses around it, but he continued on to it anyway.

    Two days later Mr Beaky was still sitting in that tree feeling very hungry, and very sorry for himself.    At about noon that day Mr Beaky went flying to see if he could see anything he recognized.

   While he was flying a big storm that had been brewing hit that area.

  The heavy rain drenched Mr Beaky and the strong wind blew him miles away.

  When eventually the rain and wind stopped, he sat in a dead tree and dried off in the reappearing sun.

"Oh my, oh my," thought Mr Beaky, "I'm never going to see Marc again, oh my, oh my."

   When Mr Beaky dried out, he perked up and once more took off, this time he flew up high so he could see further, and lo and behold, just the other side of a clump of trees, Mr Beaky saw some buildings, it was a farm.

    "People, oh joy of joys, people," thought Mr Beaky as he flew towards the buildings. "I hope they are nice people," he thought to himself as he flew towards the buildings.

   As he flew over the house he could see a little boy playing in a sand pit, a lady sitting on a chair with a pram beside her and a man digging in a garden.

    This peaceful family scene made him think more longingly of his own family, the Swanns.

   Flying down, Mr Beaky landed on the ground near the sand pit, and letting out a squawk,

said, "Mr Beaky hungry, Mr Beaky wanna go home," and squawked loudly again.

    The little boy clapped his hands in delight, the lady jumped up startled, then laughed and the man exclaimed, "Goodness me! What is this? Then laughed with his wife.

    Some time later after they had given Mr Beaky something to eat, the farmer turned to his wife, "This must be the cockatoo I saw mentioned in a lost ad. in the paper yesterday, there was a phone number, I'll go and ring them now."

    "Yes," agreed his wife, "the poor things must be very anxious over him, he's such a clever bird."

    The man came back out a few minutes later.

   "They were so pleased to hear that their bird has turned up, their little boy, who owns Mr Beaky, has been fretting himself sick, over his disappearance," he continued,.

   "Mr Swann, and Marc will be hear in half an hour, to pick him up."

    When Mr Swann and Marc arrived, the farmer was waiting at the gate with Mr. Beaky sitting on his arm, as soon as the car stopped Marc was out the door like a shot.

    "Mr Beaky, oh Mr Beaky, I'm soooo glad to see you, I've missed you soooo

much."

   Mr Beaky flew onto Marc's arm and said, "Hello Marc,

   Mr. Beaky wanna go home."

                                                                         The End.