With apologies to Dr. Seuss…
It
was my favourite story when I was growing up.
Let’s
face it, my imagination just filled in any troubling (ie. frankly impossible) potholes
in the plot.
Still
does, in point of fact.
Ahem…
Horton
was an elephant who lived in the jungle. Friendly and kind-hearted, he was
nearly always the first to offer help when needed—even when said offer may be a
little…complicated.
On
this particular day, Horton happened to be walking past the nest of Mrs. Mayzie,
a bird who lived in the neighbourhood.
Mayzie
had laid an egg and the euphoria of anticipating her ‘blessed event’ had, how
can we say this judiciously?...erm…worn off.
She
was ready for someone else to take over so she could take a well-earned (in her
eyes) break.
An
unfortunate word when talking about an egg, but let’s just go on from there,
shall we?
Now,
I will admit that it took a little convincing, but soon, Mrs. Mayzie (that lazy
bird) was winging her way to Palm Springs ‘for just a day or two’ and Horton—he
of the several lovable tons—was sitting in her tree, gently keeping her egg
warm and comfortable.
Let’s
think about that for a moment, shall we? Firstly: An elephant. In a tree.
And
secondly: Said elephant sitting so gently on a bird’s egg that it wasn’t
crushed into an eggy nothingness.
Now,
I probably don’t have to tell you that five-year-old Diane swallowed this story
whole.
Diane
of later years filled in a lot of potholes (see above).
Back
to my story…
Now
Horton, because he was loving and dependable, or, in his words, "An elephant's faithful, one
hundred percent!" stayed on that Lazy Mayzie’s egg for nearly a
year.
He suffered through storms, ridicule and
finally hunting season and not once did he falter in his task.
I keep wondering what he ate. (Can one order
take-out in a jungle?)
The
hunters who had discovered him during the aforementioned hunting season, rather
than do anything hunter-ish, decided they might make a bit of money off him if
they dug up the tree—elephant, egg and all—and hauled the whole kit and
kaboodle to a circus.
Which
they did.
There
followed an arduous trip through the jungle, over mountains and across heaving
seas.
I
don’t know about you, but when I’m anticipating a ‘blessed event’, the last
thing I want to be doing is crossing heaving seas.
Gulp.
Poor
Horton could do nothing else but endure. And finally, he, his egg, and his tree
reached their new home.
In
the middle of a circus.
Where—you’ve
probably guessed it—they were instant draws.
People
came. They stared. They discussed.
They
marvelled.
Now
this will probably come as no surprise but coincidentally, Lazy Mayzie’s ‘day or
two’ Palm Springs spa was just down the road!
Who
would have guessed?
And
our sweet little mother-to-be just happened to be in the mood for some big-top entertainment.
Imagine
the surprise when she and Horton clapped eyes on each other.
Of
course, Mayzie probably would have simply faded happily back into the audience,
except that, at that very moment, the egg—that very egg Horton had been sitting
on for 51 loooong weeks—started to hatch.
And
Mayzie, now that the work was all done, decided she was ready to be a mom.
Words
were exchanged–well, mostly screamed—and by Mayzie.
And
Horton, he of the perpetually loving nature, backed down the tree and out of his
egg’s life.
And
that’s when things really went sideways.
Well,
for Mayzie, that is.
Because
the bird that hatched from that egg…
Well,
that bird looked remarkably like Horton!
Yep.
Little
trunk and ears and tail.
Of
course, it also had wings and bird feet, but one can’t have everything.
And
everyone—including the ‘chick’—proclaimed Horton the parent.
And
Mayzie had to be content with…nothing.
I
found this so satisfying as a child. I mean, she hadn’t done any of the work.
Why should she get any of the reward?
And
you know what?
I
still think that.
We're so happy you could visit!
Now hurry over and see what my sister writers have been up to this month!
