A Whimsical Wombat Tale

Once upon a time, not so very long ago and not so very far away, there lived a whimsical wombat named Wiggle. As one might expect, Wiggle was often given to bouts of waggish whimsy. This was indeed the case on this day when Wiggle threw open the front door of his house and launched himself across the threshold, intending to skip all the way to wherever he was going (he had not thought of a destination just yet).

However, Wiggle's jolly jaunt was abruptly cut short when he found himself flat on his face. "Ow!" Wiggle said to no one in particular. "That isn't how skipping normally goes!"

He stood up and shook the grass and dirt out of his fur and turned around to see who had tripped him. As it turns out, it was not a who but a what--it was a box. It wasn't a particularly interesting box, so it was no wonder that it had gone unnoticed by Wiggle (who was not at all prone to noticing things). It was the dull, drab color of mud (the brownish kind), and it was just the right size for a wombat to trip over.

Wiggle wasn't one to pause and think for very long, so he snatched up the lackluster box and carried it with him on his way to nowhere in particular. As he hummed and skipped his way down the road through the forest, he quickly forgot all about the brown box.

Wiggle was humming and skipping so triumphantly that he didn't notice another animal in his path until he landed on the pokey parts of a pretentious porcupine named Pendleton.

"Ow!" Wiggle cried, for the second time that day. "That smarts!"

Pendleton was not the sort of fellow to be easily amused (pretentious folks generally aren't). In fact, it would be quite fair to say that this porcupine was annoyed at being bowled over by a wombat, especially a whimsical one.

Pendelton pointed his nose in a generally upwards direction and said, "Wiggle, you really must watch where you are going! Look what you've done, I am short a few quills now!"

Wiggle was very much aware of this fact since the aforementioned quills were currently protruding from his backside. "Sorry, Pendleton! I didn't mean to land on you. I am very sorry that I did, and I would love to give you back your quills."

So they worked together to remove the quills, and once they had finished, Pendleton noticed the box tucked under Wiggle's arm. "What is this?" he asked.

Wiggle replied, "Oh! I had forgotten all about it! It is a box, and a rather rude sort of box at that--it tripped me this morning."

Pendleton sighed, as one does when such an obvious answer is given, and said, "Yes, Wiggle, I can see that it is a box, but what is it for? What is inside?"

Wiggle twitched his wombatty nose, holding out the box and turning it all around in his paws. "I don't know. I just found it on my doorstep. It was quite unexpected."

Pendleton eyed the box as one does a particularly suspicious character, and said, "Well, it is obviously not something your should be carrying around with you. The mysterious nature of this brown-papered box tells anyone with a lick of sense that they should stay well away from it. Who knows what is in it? Something terrible, most likely." Pretentiously prideful folks like Pendleton often know just about everything there is to know and are often quite generous in sharing their knowledge

Wiggled frowned in a way that only wombats can and considered this. But he didn't think about it for very long, for that was not his nature. "I'll take it under consideration," he said to the porcupine (not planning on considering anything at all). Then he bid Pendleton farewell and began skipping away along the forest path with the unexpected, suspicious, mysterious, brown-papered box tucked up under his arm.

Wiggle waggled his way through the forest until he came upon a bear. This was not any bear, but it was his good friend Grizzle.

Grizzle was quite large. He was—in fact—a grizzly bear. As was his custom, Grizzle was napping in the shade. Wiggle waddled up to Grizzle and set down his mysterious box in front of Grizzle’s nose.

Wiggle wasn’t the patient sort of wombat, so he climbed up on top of the big brown bear and started bouncing up and down. After a number of bounces, Grizzle began to stir and growl. Most animals would be frightened of Grizzle’s growl, but not Wiggle. He was amused. He bounced higher and higher until Grizzle began wake, saying, “Grrrr, leave me be. I’m hibernating.”

“Grizzle!” Wiggle exclaimed. “I need your help! Wake up! Wake up!“

“Wha...What?” The sleepy bear mumbled. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll eat you?”

“Eat me? Ha!” exclaimed Wiggle. “I’m far too fuzzy for eating.”

Grizzle sat up, causing Wiggle to tumble off and land with an “Oof!”

Grizzle stared at the box in front of him. “Is this a present? Is it for me?”

Wiggle waggled over in front of the large bear. “I’m not sure. This strange package found its way to my front steps this morning.”

They both stared the plain brown box. Then Grizzle wisely suggested, “Maybe we should open it.”

Wiggle waggled with excitement. “That’s a stupendous suggestion, Grizzle! I should have thought of that!”

Wiggles waddled over to the brown box and started tearing off the brown paper. Grizzle sat and watched this, wondering at what might be inside.

Once Wiggle has removed the brown paper, he saw that there was a simple brown box underneath. He looked up at the bear. “What do you think is inside?”

Grizzle frowned, deep in thought. “Maybe it’s something to eat. It could be berries or honey.”

“Well let’s see!” said the excited wombat.

Wiggle tore open the box, and peered inside. He reached inside and pulled out a small pot. “It’s tussocky snow grass!” He exclaimed! My favorite!” Then he promptly began to shove mouthfuls into his furry face.

“Happy birthday, Wiggle!” Grizzle exclaimed, donning a party hat.

“Birthday! I had forgotten it was my birthday!” Wiggle said, as he finished off the delectable wombat delecacy.

“You silly wombat. Of course it’s your birthday.” Grizzle growled, amused. “I told you yesterday that I had a lovely surprise for you!”

“Oh!” said Wiggle. “I had quite forgotten!”