Sierra and Forest

Have you ever heard the nursery rhyme about Old Mother Hubbard? It goes like this,

“Old Mother Hubbard

Went to the cupboard,

To give the poor dog a bone;

But when she came there

The cupboard was bare,

And so the poor dog had none.”

Well, the original poem talks about all the places Old Mother Hubbard went to find food for the dog and all of the crazy things the dog did while she was gone. This story, however, is about where the dog went to look for a bone, and where he ended up finding one.

Old Mother Hubbard’s dog, Martin, felt very hard done by. He had waited all day for Old Mother Hubbard to come home from her craft group, and he had been a very good boy. He didn’t chew on the furniture, even though he really wanted to. He didn’t scare the cat, even though he really enjoyed doing it. He even waited until she got home to go to the toilet, saving Old Mother Hubbard’s beautiful carpet from getting wet. But even though he sat very nicely, even though he put on his best puppy dog eyes, Old Mother Hubbard didn’t have a bone for him! Poor Martin, his stomach rumbled and grumbled.

Old Mother Hubbard looked in lots of different places for a bone but could not find one for her poor dog. So Poor Martin decided he would have to find his own bone.

“If you want something done,” he woofed quietly to himself, “you do it yourself.” But how? Poor Martin couldn’t drive a car, and the last time he had tried to get on the bus they had chased him away. Martin sat quietly in the kitchen, listening to Old Mother Hubbard bustle around upstairs. The last time they had gone to visit her sister, Old Mother Hubbard had taken an aeroplane from the airport. Poor Martin hadn’t known what to expect and it had been very very loud. He had thought he would be sitting on Old Mother Hubbard’s lap the entire way, but they had made him ride in the bottom of the plane.

“If I can sneak into the luggage compartment…” Poor Martin thought. He quickly jumped to his feet and padded quietly to the door. Once outside, he sniffed the air and caught the scent of the airport. Off he trotted, his mind full of images of the perfect bone he hoped to find.

Poor Martin snuck onto the first aeroplane he could find, a smaller plane than he had been on before. In fact, Poor Martin didn’t think it would go very far, and he hoped that meant he would have a bone very soon. The plane took off, and in less than an hour, it touched down again. Poor Martin quickly ran off the plane and began searching the nearby buildings for a bone, but he only found a carrot. It looked roughly the right shape for a bone, but it did not smell like one at all.

This time, Poor Martin decided to try a larger plane. He hoped if he went a little further from home he would find the perfect bone. He snuck into the luggage compartment of the plane just as the men closed the doors and found a comfortable place to curl up. This plane flew longer, at least a couple of hours. Poor Martin began to wish he had eaten the carrot after all. When the plane eventually landed, Poor Martin dashed out as quickly as he could, startling the baggage crew. They yelled after him but Poor Martin ran too quickly for them. He ran out of the airport before they could find him.

Poor Martin roamed the streets sniffing for a bone.

“If I can’t find the perfect bone, just a good one will do,” he thought to himself. Poor Martin’s stomach growled as he caught a familiar scent. Could it be? He raced after the smell and found himself at a dock.

“Mph, fish.” Poor Martin muttered to himself. “I’m not a smelly old cat.” He walked over to the fresh catch the fishermen had hauled onto the dock. He gave the fish one last sniff. They looked roughly bone-shaped, and Poor Martin knew they had bones inside them, but not good bones.

Hanging his head in disappointment, Poor Martin wandered along the dock and laid down at the end watching the sun slowly moving through the sky. Suddenly, he heard what sounded like a plane engine sputtering to life.

“But this is a dock, not an airport,” Poor Martin though, confused. Turning around, he saw a plane sitting on top of the water. Creeping closer, Poor Martin saw this plane had what looked like little boats instead of wheels under it.

“It must be a seaplane!” Poor Martin realised. “From up there I would be able to see all around. I would be able to SNIFF all around too. I haven’t been able to find the perfect bone, or a good bone, or any bone at all, but maybe this seaplane can help me find one.”

The plane started to move when Poor Martin quickly jumped off the dock onto one of the little boat feet. He hung in as tight as he could, scanning the ground for anything that looked like a bone. He sniffed and sniffed but couldn’t smell anything that smelt like a bone. Then finally, just as the sun began to kiss the horizon and make the sky blush, Poor Martin caught the scent of a bone. He couldn’t tell what kind of bone, he could only just smell it. Poor Martin waited until the plane flew close enough to the ground and then jumped. He hit the ground running and followed the scent of the bone.

Poor Martin ran and ran. As the scent grew stronger, he thought for sure it smelt like it might at least be a good bone. The countryside passed like a blur as Poor Martin followed his nose. The smell got even stronger, and he thought this bone could possibly be the perfect bone. It smelled wonderful, it smelled delicious, it smelled….familiar. Suddenly, Poor Martin realised everything smelt familiar. The trees and bushes, the traffic lights, and fire hydrants. Poor Martin closed his eyes, put his nose to the ground, and sniffed deeply. Suddenly, he realised where he was. He barked a joyful bark and raced up the street and around the corner to find himself looking at his own house.

Poor Martin raced into the backyard and sniffed at the ground all around until he found it. He dug and dug and dug until finally, he found the bone! The perfect bone, the one he had travelled all over the country for, had been buried in his own backyard.

So maybe the next time you think you need to go out looking for the perfect bone, the perfect toy, the perfect friend, family, or something else, maybe you should take a moment to stop. Close your eyes, and think about what it is you already have. But perhaps don’t go around sniffing everything, people might think you’re a little weird.