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TROY AND HIS MOOSE storybook for ages 5-8

Story ID:4866
Written by:Richard Laurent. Provencher (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Story
Location:Truro Nova Scotia Canada
Person:Richard & Esther Provencher
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Richard & Esther Provencher
81 Queen Street, Unit 6, Truro, Nova Scotia
Canada B2N 2B2 Phone (902) 897-2344
E-mail: richardprov1@netscape.net

A Storybook for ages 5-8
Word Count = 775


Troy leaped out of bed and peeked out the window. Living in the country was exciting. And with a pond in the backyard!

First came broad, spoon-shaped antlers through dewy grass. Then a huge Bull Moose came into view.

Cow-pie shaped hooves splashed quietly in the soft mud. Lily pad roots were especially tasty this time of day.

Troy’s favorite birds flew about, Finches, Sparrows, and Blue Jays. A Pileated Woodpecker was making his regular visit.

The moose didn’t mind being watched. He sensed Troy meant no harm. Everyone at school would not believe he saw a moose in his back yard each morning.

Now was the time to put his plan into action. Mom and dad were still asleep. And the moose was busy munching his early breakfast.

Troy dressed, walked slowly towards the pond and climbed halfway up a Maple tree. He tossed a wide loop reaching around the antlers. And the rope settled on his long neck.

The moose thought they were playing a game and followed the boy. Such a large animal couldn’t fit through the front door. So Troy led him through the double sliding doors on the patio.

Hooves clumped across the carpet. They THUMPED up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Did you hear anything, dear?" dad called from their room.

"Go back to sleep. You must be dreaming," Troy heard his mom answer.

"You’re right," Troy's father said sleepily. "It sounded like a moose in our house."

Troy jumped into bed, and pulled up the covers. The moose did the same on his side and the bed sagged. It was too short for long legs and moose hooves hung over the end.

At breakfast the moose broke his chair. After all, he weighed more than a ton. The moose needed a napkin, so Troy tied his mom’s large apron around his neck.

His mouth was longer than a loaf of French bread. And two gulps later, both loaves disappeared.

But Troy didn’t laugh. He knew it was not polite. Mom and dad shook their heads. They were used to their son bringing home stray animals.

As the school bus arrived each window filled with eyeball-popping faces and wide-open mouths. Troy stood proudly beside his friend, holding a lead rope.

"It's true!!" Everyone shouted. Troy does have a Moose!!"

The moose couldn't squeeze through the door. So Troy went around the bus passing his rope through an open window.

Then he held on tightly from inside. It wouldn’t do to have his moose run away after all the work getting him here.

Children laughed and pointed to the moose trotting beside the bus. Troy didn't laugh since that would be rude. Besides, he was proud of his Moose. He didn’t get angry or anything.

It wasn’t long before he found out there was a problem. “No animals in school,” said the Principal, “especially a moose.”

“But…But,” Troy stammered.

"Rules are rules," the Principal said, looking up at the animal’s face.

“But, he’s special!” everyone howled. “He’s friendly.”

“Well, alright,” the Principal finally said, with a shake of his head. “He can stay outside for this morning only.”

Troy opened the classroom window, pulled his lasso through, and tied an end to his desk.

At recess one boy pulled the moose’s flap of skin that hung beneath his throat.

“It’s called a ‘bell,’ said Troy.

Everyone wrestled in the lineup for a ride on the moose. Some children did chin-ups on his antlers. Others slid down his sides. He was almost eight feet tall.

Finally it was time to go home for lunch. Troy climbed out the school window to get his moose. He tried to pull him to the school bus already filled with students.

The moose began to trot, then picked up speed, dragging Troy behind him. The animal rushed past startled people on the sidewalk. Troy hung onto the rope like a kite in the wind.

The moose didn’t stop running until he arrived at Troy’s house. He headed for the backyard pond, knowing a meal of leaves and twigs were waiting.

Finally, there was peace and quiet. No more laughing children. No more jokes. And no pointing fingers at his tail, or his bell, or his wide antlers.

There were only trees, a pond and Troy listening to the moose give a happy grunt. He climbed up the maple tree, then reached over and removed the lasso.

His moose waded into the pond. After snacking, he looked back at Troy before strolling into the deeper woods.

Troy was certain he would come back. And he was sure of something else.

Now everyone knew about Troy’s Moose.

* * *

© Richard & Esther Provencher 2009