Browsing articles in "The Guinea Pig Children’s Stories written and illustrated by Caroline Whittle"

The Flying Carpet – The Guinea Pig Children’s Stories written and illustrated by Caroline Whittle

Flying Carpet

 

A little guinea pig sits all alone in the noisy pet shop. No one has come to

 

 give him a forever home, although a lot of people have stared at him and

 

 eager fingers tried to catch him, because he is very handsome. He hears

 

 loud voices proclaiming him ‘wild’ and ‘untameable’ and the people go away.

 

 

 

He spends his days looking out of a window where he can see the birds

 

 landing on a table and feeding, then flying away again. He wishes he could

 

 fly. He would leave this place and be free.

 

 

 

That night, when all is quiet and dark and even the parrots have gone to

 

 sleep, the guinea pig is captivated by the bright light of the moon in the

 

 inky sky. He makes a wish to the moon that he will grow wings from his

 

 long, silken hair and be able to fly.

 

 

The following morning, his day begins as usual. The sounds of disruption

 

 shatter the peace; cages being cleaned and food being prepared,

 

 squawking and screeching. When it is his turn, there are shocked sounds

 

 and he is pulled from his bed of hay. It is then that he realises he feels

 

 different. All of the long hair on his body has gone! He’s just left with his

 

 long head locks and a fine silky fuzz everywhere else.

 

 

 

 

The humans in the pet shop think that he has chewed off his own hair as a

 

 sign of disturbed behaviour, or worse; that he has some awful illness. He is

 

 moved to the attic so that he is quarantined from everyone else. A visit to

 

 the Vet finds nothing amiss, so the pet shop owners despair at ever selling

 

 him without hair and decide to keep him out of sight.

 

 

 

That night, having had nothing to amuse him and make his lonely day pass,

 

 the guinea pig feels utter despair. He knows nothing of life, he doesn’t even

 

 have a name. And now, he doesn’t even have his glorious coat of hair. Did

 

 he wish this on himself by asking for wings? He then starts to cry. He cries

 

 for the mother he hardly remembers and he cries for his wasted life.

 

 

 

When he finally sleeps, he dreams. He dreams that magical light beings

 

 come to him and dry his tears. They tell him that he is too special to be an

 

 ordinary guinea pig and that they had heard his wish. It was they who had

 

 taken his hair, they said, to weave into a very special carpet. They were

 

 sorry it had taken so long, but it was a lengthy process, full of loving

 

 intention and a little bit of his own being. ‘So go well, little guinea pig’ they

 

 say as they float away, ‘and follow your dreams’.

 

 

 

When he wakes up, it is still dark. He feels the sadness of realising the

 

 lovely dream was just that. He shuffles over to his food bowl, brightly lit

 

 again from the full moon. To his astonishment, there, propped in the

 

 corner of his cage is a rolled up, shimmery, almost breathing small carpet.

 

 Hanging next to it is a silken costume of waistcoat, loose trousers and some

 

 golden shoes. Just then, he notices a breeze on his whiskers and sees that

 

 the window of the attic is open. Little bursts of energy, like tiny fireworks

 

 are happening around the window and on the carpet. It unfurls and waits.

 

 The guinea pig puts on the clothes and sits on the rich softness of his own

 

 hair, dyed beautiful colours and skillfully woven. He then feels that his

 

 heart and the carpet seem to be as one and they rise up from this lonely

 

 place and follow the sparkling lights out through the window.

 

 

 

The mystery of the unwanted guinea pig was never solved. All that was left

 

 in his cage were a few little scorch marks, as if the sun had shone really

 

 brightly on his hay. But that guinea pig with no name is living his dream, he

 

 can fly. He has visited the whole world and if you look carefully, you might

 

 see him when he passes over you on his shimmering, glittering carpet.

 

The End  for now . . .