Take Your Pet To School Night: A Little Hedgehog Story

This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. Hang on a second. There is, well, there's a frog on the ledge outside my window. And I know how this is going to sound, but it appears to be trying to get my attention. The frog just knocked on my window. Hello? Is there something you... Oh, well, of course. Yes, come in. This is amazing. I have a guest that I didn't even have to coordinate schedules with. Everyone, please welcome... Sorry, what was your name? Please welcome Ollie the Frog. Ollie, I do hope you'll excuse the clutter in my studio. I was planning to move all those zebra figurines after lunch tomorrow. Hmm? Oh yes, take a seat anywhere. You can just push aside that pile of toothpicks. Oh, is that right? Ollie says he has listened to some of my stories from the other side of the window during his work breaks. But they've been a bit muffled. So here he is, to hear a story clearly for the first time. Oh, what kind of work do you do, Ollie? Huh, that's funny. He says he's a pet sitter. It's a bit of a coincidence, because our story today is about pets. And in fact, as you'll hear, Ollie, there are quite a few ribbits in this story. But there are no... You know what? I shouldn't give that away. You'll just have to listen to the story. Let's hear it. It's called Take Your Pet to School Night. Take it away, Hazel. Remember, there are no pictures. You have to imagine the pictures in your mind. You can imagine them however you want. Okay, here we go! Little Hedgehog and Bebe, her best friend of all time, were in the middle of math class with Ms. Rutabaga. Now, children, if I've collected nine crickets in the wicker basket given to me by my Aunt Iris, and my mother puts five of the crickets in a pie, and the other four crickets hop away, but two of them skip out the window before I can grasp them in my clutches, then how many crickets will... When the intercom crackled to life, drawing everyone's attention, including Ms. Rutabaga's... Hold that thought, children. Up to the speaker in the corner of the classroom ceiling. Attention, students and faculty. This is Principal Petri Dish with a truly informative announcement. All this week, Glow-in-the-Dark Yo-Yos will be on sale at Barnaby's Yo-Yo Palace. Wait a second. Apologies, students and faculty. I seem to have mixed up my clipboards. I'll be just a moment. The students blinked up at the intercom. Little Hedgehog turned to her best friend. BB, what do you think this is all about? Give me the first idea that comes to mind. Perhaps a famed author or poet, such as Lawrence O'Tooling Toad, is visiting the school and will recite one of his award-winning poems, such as my personal favorite, Under Every Log, There Is a Hopeful Toad. That would be so enriching, BB. What's your second guess? Perhaps Principal Petri Dish is stepping down from her post in order to sail across the sea to distant archipelagos, and she will be replaced by Principal Centipede, who will roam the hallways and classrooms, crawling underfoot in an effort to literally keep students on their toes. Oh, that would be so funny. Okay, Bebe, what is your third and final guess? Perhaps. But Bebe didn't have the chance to share her third idea, so we will never know if it was correct, because Principal Petri Dish resumed her announcement. Apologies, I have now located the correct clipboard. We are pleased to announce that after a three-year pause, taken due to completely unforeseen incidents that we will not go into here, we will once again hold Take Your Pet to School Night in one week's time. The classroom erupted in gasps and cheers. A lone voice belonging to Garth, a prairie dog who tended to see the puddle half empty, said, I'm not sure why everyone is celebrating. Taking pets to school is obviously a bad idea. Think of everything that could go wrong. But the class was too exuberant to hear him. And now for an original song from Ms. Swindletooth, your favorite school activities director. Ms. Swindletooth, a rabbit of unusual size with especially prominent ears and front teeth, was known for her interesting and different original songs. The children never quite knew what to expect when she came to the microphone. They stared up at the intercom with questioning expressions. Take your pet to school night. Yes, take your pet to school night. Yes, you heard that right. It's take your pet to school night. It's usually not allowed. No, no, it's usually not allowed. But in this instance, it's take your pet to school night. Yes, take your pet, unless it bites. To school. School. School. This might go on for a while, so it seems like a good time to break in with a bit of history on take your pet to school night. You'd be forgiven for thinking it was the brainchild of our dear Ms. Swindletooth. In fact, Take Your Pet to School Night was dreamed up by a school principal of yesteryear named Mrs. Glenda Goosewilder, a smallish goose with a large-ish personality, who often came up with thrilling plans for the student body without fully considering the consequences. Take, for example, Roller Skate Day. Let the good times roll at our upcoming inaugural Roller Skate Day! Whee! Ow! That was held precisely once. Then there was the time Mrs. Goose Wilder ran a contest for who could read the most books during the school year, which was laudable, of course. But then, for prizes, she gave out fleas. A flea for you, and a flea for you, and you, my dear. You read the most books. You get three fleas to take home. Needless to say, the next few days were on the itchy side. It itches Oh it itches But more than anything else Mrs Goose Wilder truly shining moment in the moonlight was her introduction of Take Your Pet to School Night And, amazingly, it went off without a hitch for several years, despite the fact that no rules were put in place. Anything goes, children. That worked for a time, but reality has a way of catching up. And three years ago, it did just that. Let's just say there were some injuries. My tail! That rat bit off my tail! And a few unfortunate encounters between pets. Fluffy, stop eating that snail! No, Snelson! But the worst incident that ultimately put Take Your Pet to School Night on ice for several years was the evacuation of the entire school, prompted by a young pig named Philbin letting his pet Scorpion out of its tank in the middle of gym class. Space friendly, I promise. Unable to face the consequences of her whimsy, Mrs. Goose Wilder ultimately left education entirely to become a professional candlewick maker. But despite its hazards, take-your-pet-to-school night had become one of the most beloved events of the year. The students clamored for its return the following year, but the new principal, a pragmatist at heart, Principal Petri Dish, held off. Until now. Let's get back to Ms. Dwindletooth's song, shall we? Skoo-oo-oo, skoo-oo-oo night. Students will be bringing you more information closer to the big night, including a lengthy list of rules and prohibited pets. And as a note, we will be offering hermit crab rentals for those students without pets or who have pets on the prohibited list. That's all for now. Enjoy the rest of your night, and take care. It's windy out there. Ms. Rutabaga attempted to proceed with her word problem. Now then, recall we started with nine crickets in my wicker basket given to me by... But the class was electrified with excitement about take your pet to school night. I can't wait to bring my ladybug. His name is Gregorio. Wait till you guys see my pet. He's actually taller than I am. Little Hedgehog and BB were similarly distracted from the lesson. Little guy is going to be so excited, Little Hedgehog said, referring to her darling pet chameleon. Time to break out his tuxedo. I just knew there would be an occasion for it. Bebe was uncharacteristically quiet. Not in a sad way, in a thinking way. Little Hedgehog noticed, of course. Bebe, aren't you so excited to break your... Oh, wait a second. Bebe, are you thinking what I'm thinking? She was. You do not have a pet. It was true. Bebe did not have a pet of her own. It was not for lack of trying. In fact, ever since her mother had given her permission to acquire a pet some months back, Bebe had tried to find the pet of her dreams. But it had yet to materialize. And now she only had one week to get the job done. She obviously did not want to have to rent a hermit crab. So the following night, after school let out, the two friends skipped along the trail beneath the moon to find an acceptable pet for Bebe to bring to take your pet to school night. Little Guy tagged along too, snoring peacefully on Little Hedgehog's shoulder prickles. The wind howled as they skipped along. It had been terribly windy for days, so they were grateful to reach their destination, which was well protected by a cluster of tall trees. The Forest Pet Shop Bebe had been there now and then to check for potential pets, but none of the options were quite right. Though, as the pet shop owner often said, We get new ones in every day. So it didn't hurt to look, but when they neared the well-lit cave of the pet shop, they heard the sound of dozens of frogs and saw the elder possum who ran the shop, dropping a curtain over the entrance. Hello? Greetings. The elder possum shifted the curtain to peek at the small hedgehogs and the chameleon asleep on one of their shoulders. Oh, dear. I'm afraid we're closed. Closed? But we're in dire need of a pet. Everyone is, my dear. Everyone is. But, well, do you hear those sounds coming from my shop? Bebe, would you consider a frog for a pet? Perhaps if... Oh, those aren't frogs. Well, I do have one frog in there. Cavendish, lovely fellow, delightful shade of swamp water. Little Hedgehog and BB exchanged a look, but the rest have come down with the never-ending ribbits. The never-ending ribbits? At this, little guys startled awake and fixed one large eye on the possum. What are the never-ending ribbits? Bibi asked. Oh, they're terrible. Not truly never-ending, of course, but the condition lasts for weeks, months. I heard of a mouse who had the ribbits for three years. Three years? It was awful. He had to quit his mouse choir. They couldn't have a bunch of ribbits punctuating every line of every song. How did the animals acquire the never-ending ribbits? By being elbowed by a frog, of course. That's usually how it starts. Then it just keeps spreading from there. Wow. I didn't even know frogs had elbows. It's a pity. And it's why I must close the shop. They've all got it. All 37 of them. I can only hope my business will, sir. Ribbit. Little Hedgehog and Bebe's eyes went wide, and the elder possum's face turned ashen. Oh, no. Oh, dear. Ribbit. Children, I must go. Ribbit. Take care, children. I'll be fine. I'll see you in a few months. And with that, the elder possum let the curtain fall. The next several nights were fruitless. The one time Bebe thought she might have found a contender, things did not go as expected. An adorable-looking insect was carried on the blustery wind. into her dimly lit burrow and followed her around as she readied for school one evening She decided to interview it for a pet position Would you be open to serving as a loyal companion Sure. We would have to spend a lot of time together. Perfect. It would benefit me greatly to spend time with you. What kind of food do you require? Oh, um, I don't think you have to worry about that. This is not required, only preferred. Would you be able to serve as a protector of the burrow? I think I could drive some animals away. Interesting. But as Bebe ate her breakfast, the insect landed on her paw. And just after it was too late, she discovered that the adorable insect was in fact a mosquito. We need to get better lighting in here. At school the following evening, Little Hedgehog and Bebe were in the middle of math class. Now children, let's say a frog named Mr. Pickleton has baked 17 grasshoppers into a pie. A crow swoops down and plucks three and a half grasshoppers from the pie. Mr. Pickleton's sister shows up unannounced and adds a dollop of mud cream on top of the pie. If Mr. Pickleton cuts the pie into seven equal slices, how many? When the intercom once again crackled to life. Attention, students and faculty. it is I, Principal Petri Dish, with some important reminders regarding our upcoming Take Your Pet to School Night to be held at the end of the week. I can't wait, and neither can my pet and swarm Fred. First, I'd like to review the rules that will ensure this is an enriching, non-life-threatening event for all involved. Rule number one, all pets must be fed a large meal at home prior to attending the evening's festivities. Rule number two, all pets must have taken a bath within the last six months in order to enter the school building. How am I supposed to give my fish a bath? Rule number three. Bebe, dutiful student that she was, had already studied the rules for take your pet to school night. So as Principal Petri Dish went on, she turned to Little Hedgehog with her own important update. Little Hedgehog, I believe I may have found the perfect pet. What? Tell me immediately. Here, take a look. Bibi reached into her vest pocket. Bibi, you mean to tell me you've had a pet in your pocket this whole time? Is it a Japanese garden beetle? Bibi smiled. Unfortunately, no. Although, they are quite destructive. So I suppose I should say, fortunately, no. Bibi withdrew a newspaper from her prickles and unfolded it to reveal an ad in the classifieds section. Little Hedgehog read it, her eyes widening with every word. Delightful hummingbird available for adoption. She loves to perch for nanoseconds at a time. Excellent at hovering, though takes care not to read over your shoulder. Adoption fee, one pouch of walnuts. Dried cranberries also accepted. Location, big tree by the river. Oh, Bebe, I can just imagine you with a darling little hummingbird. I will name her Humbleena. My mother warned me that with classified ads such as this one, it is common for creatures to swoop in at the last second to beat one to the punch. Then let's go right after school. We have to be there first. Indubitably. Later, when the school bell rang, the two friends bolted from their seats and scampered out of the building into the moonlight. They ran, breathless, collecting walnuts in a pouch as they went to the big tree by the river. Beneath the tree, a whimsical-looking raccoon sat with a large book open on her lap and a charming hummingbird circling her head. Bebe, that's Humbelina. She is within our sights. The hedgehogs ran as fast as their little legs could carry them, which was, well, to be honest, it was not that fast. It did not help that the wind was blowing against them as they ran. Still, they made it there in due course. The raccoon looked up, smiling as they neared. The hummingbird seemed to brighten as well. When she was just feet away, Bebe outstretched her paw with the pouch of recently collected walnuts, and, and. A flying squirrel swooped down in a blur, snatched the hummingbird, dropped a pouch of dried cranberries on the raccoon's head and sailed away into the night. Yeehaw! Oh, the raccoon said, grasping the pouch. So sorry. Guess he beat you to the punch. Wow, Bebe, Little Hedgehog said, catching her breath. Your mom was right. She always is. The following night, Little Hedgehog spent several hours working with Little Guy on learning new tricks to perform at Take Your Pet to School night. Okay, little guy. Now, I want you to tie your bow tie. You have 23 seconds. On your mark, get set, go. Meantime, Bebe resorted to trying to capture a pet. Unfortunately, the forest winds had only gotten worse, which made things difficult. Each time she got close to netting a ladybug, for instance, it was carried away in the breeze. Now might be a good time to drop in with a brief message about pet capture. Firstly, do not try it at home. Among people, pet capture is a touchy subject and should never be attempted without a permission slip. Secondly, you must understand that pet capture is extraordinarily commonplace among hedgehogs. In fact, Bebe's Aunt Wilma famously lassoed a poison dart frog and kept it as a pet for three long years, during which she tamed it and trained it to enjoy tea parties without approaching anyone. Hedgehogs often capture crickets and then make quick decisions as to whether to keep them as companions and outfit them with little jackets and top hats or to bake them into muffins. It's a tough call, but someone has to do it. Anyway, hedgehogs capture pets. It's totally normal and makes complete sense if you think about it for even 20 seconds. But we don't have 20 seconds for you to Think about it, because we have to get back to the story. Near dawn, Bebe reluctantly gave up her pet capture efforts after an ant scurried out of her clutches. I mean, paws. Prickle Bear, I do apologize, but I do not wish to be your companion. And she resigned herself to the fact that tomorrow evening she would be renting a hermit crab from the cart She fell asleep inside her burrow and had unsettled dreams At long last it was take your pet to school night Bebe dutifully packed up her things and set off on the trail towards school beneath the moon. Meanwhile, Little Hedgehog helped Little Guy into his tuxedo and placed him on her shoulder prickles. Little Guy, this is gonna be so fun. Yay! But instead of saying yay, Little Guy said, Ribbit. Hmm. The night was exceptionally windy, and Bebe had to brace herself as she slowly made her way forward. She finally made it to the fork in the trail where she and Little Hedgehog often met, and as she stood waiting for her friend, something small and papery crashed into her face. Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm having such trouble hovering in this wind. Bebe could hardly believe her eyes. She held up a paw as an offering to the small creature and it immediately flew into it. Bebe put up her other paw to shield the animal from the wind. There, in her paws, was a delightful hummingbird. Moth? Indeed, it was a beautiful, colorful hummingbird. Moth. Yes, my name is Martha. Martha? Common mistake, Martha. Okay. I'm so sorry I flew into your face. This wind has been just awful. It's been going on for days. I need a break from it to get my bearings. A break? Just for a few hours. If only I could go inside somewhere. Somewhere warm and windless. Perhaps somewhere bursting with laughter and good cheer. I think I know just the place. When our favorite hedgehogs finally made it to take your pet to school night, little hedgehog might have had to rent a hermit crab. Look, Bebe, his name is Mr. Crabapple. Isn't that the perfect name for a dapper hermit crab? I believe it is. And Bebe might have only had a temporary pet for the evening. I enjoy your company greatly, but I am not fit to be a pet. I am a wanderer at heart, you see. But it was just as exciting as they'd hoped it would be. There was a student pet lookalike contest, with participants including a chinchilla with her pet mouse, a turtle with his pet snail, a pig and her pet naked mole rat, and a sloth and his pet moss. No surprise, the sloth and the moss won. There were prizes, such as for Best Web Development. That went to a spider named Quinceley. Best Power Lifter. That went to an ant named Kincaid, who lifted a paperclip more than 18 times his own weight. And Best Poet. That, of course, went to a worm by the name of Rosalind. A fire warms the night. A bird takes flight A giraffe eats There was a bit of a scare when a wombat by the name of Robert opened his pet's cage and as it slithered out, students feared it was on the prohibited pets list. Is that a snake? But it was only a blue-tongued skink, so totally fine. His name's Heinrich. Everything went off without a hitch. Until, during lunch, Little Hedgehog and Bebe's classmate, a rabbit named Glenn, told them about his pet cricket. I just got him from the forest pet shop last week. Check this out, he can ride a unicycle. Wow! Impressive. The cricket wheeled around the surface of the lunch table, did a few figure eights, then leapt off his unicycle, spun in a circle, waited for applause, and said, Ribbit. Little Hedgehog and BB exchanged a significant look. That's weird. I've never heard him say ribbit before. Hmm. Hmm. More ribbits echoed from different spots around the lunchroom, slowly building until it sounded as if the cafeteria was filled with a great frog chorus. Little Hedgehog and Bebe giggled. They both knew this might mean take your pet to school night would possibly be put on ice for another few years. so they enjoyed it while they could. It was a very memorable night. So, Ollie, what did you think of the story? Uh-huh. Oh, I see. Ollie is apparently displeased about several things. For one thing, he says he has pet-sit many crickets and they are notoriously bad at riding unicycles. Also, he was disappointed that Cavendish, the only frog mentioned in the story, had no lines. Okay, he might have said a ribbit or two. Seems like Ollie might want to go back to listening to the stories through the window. so that he won't actually hear them. But thank you for coming. Little Stories for Tiny People is written, performed, and produced by me, Rhea Pector. My in-house tech director, Peter Kay, runs my website and puts my stories on the internet for all of you to enjoy. Thank you to my Little Stories premium subscribers for supporting the show. If you'd like to unlock the full Little Stories library, join or gift a subscription to Little Stories Premium by visiting littlestoriespremium.com. Thank you to Hazel for the super important reminder message at the beginning. And thank you to the many premium subscribers who supplied sound effects used in this story. Thank you to Abel, Nora, Cameron, Theo, Grace, Nicholas, and Samuel. And thank you, as always, for listening in. Thank you.