Once upon a time, there was a cow called Moosie-Moo who spent her days happily grazing in Poppy Meadow. Her closest friends were a beautiful fluffy rabbit called Honeybun and a wise old owl called Lennon.
Now Moosie-Moo loved to canter, gambol and kick her heels. She'd race raindrops running down the knobbly oak, she'd race beatles through the long lush grass and sometimes, when the sun was high, she'd even race her own shadow.
Summer turned into autumn. The Harvest Moon rose like a huge blue lantern and Moosie-Moo became suddenly sad. “What's wrong?”, asked Honeybun, bouncing like a rubber ball, eyes shining bright in the moonbeams. A rustle high above in the leaves of the knobbly oak announced the arrival of Lennon who settled on his favourite branch, spectacles perched on his beak. He let out a long “twit twooooo”.
Moosie-Moo sighed and stared at the moon. “It's so beautiful”, she said, “I just want to jump right over it”. Honeybun sat back on her haunches in surprise. “But,” said Moosie-Moo, “I can walk and run and roll on my back but I can't fly like Lennon or jump like you”.
Honeybun considered. Lennon closed both his eyes and seemed to sleep. “Well,” she said, “perhaps you should do some training to practise jumping high enough to reach the moon. Why do you want to go to the moon anyway?”. “That's easy”, said Moosie-Moo. “I've heard that there's a cat who plays the violin, a little laughing dog, a dish and spoon who love each other and it's made of lovely, yummy, creamy cheese! It sounds so much fun!”
Next morning the training session began. Honeybun used her great strong paws to dig a pit filled with warm sandy soil and created a finishing line made from her best carrots at the end of Poppy Meadow. “Moosie-Moo”, she instructed, “run as fast as you can and jump! Jump with all your might!”.
So Moosie-Moo ran the length of the meadow and when she saw the pit and the line of carrots she threw herself into the air but her hooves barely rose higher than the tallest blade of grass and she sank firmly into the pit of sandy soil. “Oh dear”. said Honeybun. Over and over again Moosie-Moo raced the length of the meadow, willing her body to rise into the air. “You make it look so easy, Honeybun” she sighed sadly.
As the moon rose that night, the two friends sat together bathing in the soft moonlight. “I bet it's the best, most creamy cheese you could wish for up there”, said Moosie-Moo. “Have a carrot”, said Honeybun, “you'll see better in the dark”. A swish in the trees announced Lennon's arrival, but he remained silent in the dark canopy of leaves above.
“I have heard”, said Honeybun about a magic device made by a cat named paul”. “I think you mean a catapault”, said Moosie-Moo, “I'm too heavy”. Honeybun thought again. “what about going on that tram with pauline”? “I think you mean a trampoline”, said Moosie-Moo, “I don't think it'd get me high enough”.
Now Lennon could keep quiet no longer. He shook his wings and fluffed out his chest. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “Moosie-Moo”, he said sternly, “the moon is there for all to enjoy. It would be a shame if you were to take dents out of it by eating its lovely soft cheese!”.
“Well,” said Moosie-Moo, “it seems as if I will never get there in any case. I cannot fly and I cannot jump. All I can do is walk and run and roll on my back”.
“Moosie-Moo”, said Lennon, his glasses sliding even further down his beak, “you can walk in the sunshine and run in the rain, you can roll on your back in the mud. You are tall enough to see right across Poppy Meadow. I have to fly in the air and Honeybun has to hop till she's breathless to see the sun setting on the horizon. And your friends the beatles barely get to see above the grass”.
“I suppose I am being rather ungrateful”, said Moosie-Moo.
“We all have our special talents and skills”, said Lennon. “It's what makes Poppy Meadow the wonderful place that it is.”.
Honeybun twitched her nose, gently placing her paw on her old friend's hoof said, “We'll always be friends whether or not you can jump over the moon”.
“Indeed,” said Lennon. “It's not how high you can jump but what makes your heart jump with joy that matters”.
And with that, he closed his great round eyes and went back to sleep, leaving Moosie-Moo and Honeybun to happily continue moonbathing in the peace of Poppy Meadow.
copyright Linda Hobbis 8/8/14