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Archibald at the Wonder Down Under My favorite country is Australia. But it’s not my favorite continent. I like Antarctica better. There’s no people there, so it’s not stressful like it is here, with all the noises around my apartment. Like Mrs. Trumplebaum above me. She’s always cooking something and the blender she uses is really old and goes gurgle-gurgle-bzzzzz-gurgle for half the night. There are no blenders in Antarctica, far as I can tell. Except its kinda cold there. I’d forgotten about that. I’m not a fan of cold. I’m wearing a big fleece blanket right now, actually. So maybe I don’t like Antarctica that much. But that’s okay, that’s what Australia is for. I visited the land down under once. I’m not really sure why they call it that, actually. They’re not really under anything. Except the sun, so I guess that counts. Well I was in Australia and I saw this real big sign for a circus. It was covered in glitter and lights, which made me real excited. I’m a big fan of shiny things. So, of course, I had to go. I mean, seriously, who could ignore such an enticing sign? Plus, I’m not gonna lie, the promise of a kangaroo tamer had me jumping out of my chair to get to that circus. Except not really, since I wasn’t sitting down. But you got my meaning, I hope. (If you don’t, well, that’s life.) When I got to the circus there were tents everywhere. I looked around for a chartreuse one, but there really wasn’t one. It made me kinda sad, cause I thought chartreuse was mandatory for every color scheme. That’s what my friend at the committee of the interior design of color and fashion that should or should not be fashionably fashionable told me. And he would know. He works at the United States Department of the Interiors of Places, not to be confused with the Department of the Interior. Last I heard that has something to do with trees. There were no trees in the area around the circus, actually. It was like they cut them all down just for this Australian Circus. And I like Australia and all, but I’m not a big fan of cutting down trees. Then again, I don’t really remember seeing any trees on the way there, so maybe there just aren’t trees in Australia. That makes more sense. Anyway, back to the Wonder Down Under-that’s the name of the circus by the way. It sounds real cool in the Aussie accent. All rhyming and such. I think something like Ole Dusty’s Big Top would be more appropriate, cause dust is all I could see and smell and feel and breathe. Well since I couldn’t find a chartreuse tent, I went to a green one instead. It wasn’t a very pretty green. It kind of looked like a bug after you squash it. Not all bugs look green though. Some look brown. But we won’t pay attention to those. I walked past this guy named Renaldo. He was a fire eater. He kind of scared me, though. So I walked by real quick. I have a childhood fear of fire eaters. But we’ll not get into that. All I’ll say is it had something to do with a door handle, a bowling ball and a dead hamster. So it goes. I heard a big thunder of applause, and so I headed in that direction. I asked the man on stilts what the act was. He was real tall and I had to tilt my head up crazy high to talk to him. My neighbor Suziana is a stilt-person too. I once talked to her for an hour and a half, and then couldn’t look down for a week. It wasn’t so much fun. “That’s (super loud applause) our resident kangaroo tamer,” he explained to me. The clapping covered up the kangaroo tamer’s name, which I really wanted to know. But my neck was starting to cramp, so I went and found a seat behind this bald guy. His head was real shiny. I’m not sure how he got it that way. It was kind of cool. The kangaroo man stepped inside a cage with this real big kangaroo. I really wanted to see what happened next, but I got hit in the eye with a piece of popcorn. It was tragic! I stood up and started yelling. “Owww! Ow! Ow! Owey! Ahhhhhhhh!” The bald man also stood up and then turned around. I was distracted by the shiny head, but only for a second. Then the pain came back. The bald man squinted at me. “What’s wrong with you, kid?” I resented being called a kid, (I was, after all 98 dog years old), but ignored that fact due to the stinging in my eye. “Where are your parents?” continued the bald man. I was beginning to dislike him. “At the convention downtown-Ow! Owey! Ow! Help me! I need the nurse!” “Would you shut up?” another woman yelled. “I’m trying to watch the show.” “I need a band aid” I yelped. “Preferably a unicorn one. They have special healing powers.” “A unicorn band aid? What’s a unicorn band aid?” another man asked. “They have unicorns on them. We always keep them at my house.” “Listen, buddy,” the bald man said. “There is no nurse. There are no band aids. Can we please just watch the show?” Just then a piece of popcorn hit my other eye. If I had to guess, I think the lady in the purple threw it. Purple is a very suspicious color. This is why I don’t like popcorn. You know what never hits you in the eye? Pineapples. I like pineapples. |
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