TUESDAY THESAURUS – A Story for the little ones on Christmas Eve

Snow horizonHere is a little story about a tiny white dog, Arthur, who loves walking in the fields in spite of his size. I hope you find time to sit and read it to your little one, in the hope they may calm for a moment on this very exciting day.



Arthur is looking out of the window. There is a tiny bird sitting on a branch, and the wind is blowing the scratchy branch from side-to-side. Its thorns scratch the window pane. ‘Skreeek.’Fluffing up and keeping warm

Arthur does not like the sound. He is waiting. His red lead sits on the table, but his friend has disappeared. Arthur sits down. He sighs. Cocking his head to the side he listens. He can hear the kitchen clock ticking.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

He shuts his eyes, and lies down. The stone floor is cold on his tummy. Then he hears footsteps coming down the stairs.

‘Arthur!’ calls his friend. He jumps up. ‘Walkies!’

‘Woof!’ he replies, ‘Woof! Woof!’ and his little tail curls up over his back.

Outside the wind is blowing hard. The fields are brown and muddy, and the leaves fly about.autumn green

Red berries and shiny brown conkers are scattered along the track. Arthur runs in circles, sniffing the earth.

‘Mud!’ he thinks. ‘Berries and mud,’ he thinks. ‘Berries and mud and something very smelly.’ he thinks.

He stops.

‘Arthur, LEAVE!’ says his friend. But he is not listening. The smelly thing smells very, very interesting.

‘Leave!’ says his friend, again. Arthur looks up at her. She looks straight at him. Then she looks further up the track, over his head,

‘Look, Arthur!’ she says.

Arthur looks. He sees a huge grey dog. The big grey dog is walking away. Its tail is very long and silky. There is a man sitting on top of it.

‘Woof!’ says Arthur. ‘Woof-woof-woof-woof-woof!’ he begins to shriek. The man turns round to look. The big dog stops walking. It puts its head down, and snorts loudly.

‘Snoooort!’ it says.

‘What a handsome horse,’ says his friend, looking at the man. The dog-horse canters away.

Clippety-clop, clippety-clop. Its hooves thud on the dusty path.

Arthur looks back down at the smelly pile, on the earth. He sniffs it, again.

‘Oh. Horse,’ he thinks.

‘Come on Arthur,’ calls his friend, and Arthur trots happily on into the hazy horizon, full of adventures, strange creatures, and wonderful new smells.arthur in the windThe End.

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