Read Online Badger the Mystical Mutt and Daydream Drivers by Lyn McNicol - Free Book Online
Authors: Lyn McNicol
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It was two puffs of a dandelion clock to summer. In the lane, noisy clangs and bangs, dings and dongs, rustles and bustles could be heard from Badger the Mystical Mutt’s garden. He was rummaging in his favourite plant pot to find the bits and pieces he needed for a very important spell; a spell to stop screeches and screams in nasty dreams; the all-important spell to conjure up a magnificent Dreamcatcher.
He dug out a rusty old bicycle bell and looked at it thoughtfully.
“Nope, that won’t work, too loud.”
He peered back into the pot and tugged at an old wellie boot and a cricket bat. He shook his head and threw them both aside.
He had another delve, and spotted a shiny basketball ring. “Aha, this is looking better”. Then he spied a ball of string and a tattered feather filled pillow.
“Splendid, these are
exactly
what I need to help Lennie with his nightmares… if I could only remember the spell.”
He scratched his head, closed his eyes, thought really hard and then uttered the magic words:
“Feathers flutter to this ball of string,
Weave your web to the basketball ring.
Tickle the nightmares and give them laughter,
Make them cheery and happy ever after”
Badger stood back and waited. Sparkles of light twinkled around him as the feathers, the string and the basketball ring lifted up, twirled around and headed straight for him.
Out in the lane, the birds were watching their youngsters try to fly, the alley cats were lounging in the shade of the old oak tree, and all was well in the neighbourhood. All except for Lennie, the new leader of the gang. A little further along the lane, Lennie was undergoing a terrifying torture. He was trapped in a murky dungeon and was tied to a strange stretching contraption. His tail was being pulled at one end while a tin watering can drenched his head at the other.
In a dank corner, Pogo Paws and Pickle sniggered as they turned a huge creaky wheel. With each turn, a mallet thumped Lennie’s snout, and his tail was yanked even further.
“Stop, please stop!” whimpered Lennie.
“Not until you admit you’re a rubbish gang leader and resign immediately,” shouted Pickle.
As the mallet struck him one more time, Lennie woke with a start.
He rubbed his nose and tried to wag his tail. All was fine. It had just been another of his horrible nightmares.
That’s it
, he thought.
I need to go and see Badger the Mystical Mutt, and find out if he’s finished my Dreamcatcher
.
As Lennie trotted towards Badger’s garden, he spotted Pogo Paws and Pickle in the distance.
Oh no
, he thought,
I’ve had quite enough of those two already today in that dreadful dream
.
He crouched behind the old oak tree and hid until they had disappeared out of sight. As he let out a huge sigh of relief, his nose caught the distinct whiff of a newly delivered p-mail. He sniffed the trail and read the message.
“Who is the Earl of Doodlepoppington?” he wondered aloud. “And why is he coming to visit Badger?”
He carried on to the famous crack in the fence at the bottom of Badger’s garden, and peered through. He saw his friend in a bit of a fankle.
There were feathers everywhere. Badger was flat on his back with his bottom wedged in the basketball ring, and string strung from all angles.
“Oh, you look a bit tied up, Badger! Let me help,” offered Lennie.
“Ah yes. The spell didn’t quite work, but it’s getting there,” said Badger sheepishly.
With feathers tickling his nose, he wiggled his bottom free of the basketball ring, and shook himself.
Lennie chuckled and said: “I have a message for you. I just picked up a p-mail from the Earl of Doodlepoppington. He’s coming to see you. Do you know him?”
“Doodles?” groaned Badger “Yes, I’m afraid I do. He’s my distant cousin, andthe rogue of the family. I wonder what he wants.”
“Is he posh? He sounds posh?”
“He thinks he is. He lives with his father, the Duke, in a stately kennel in Upper
He dug out a rusty old bicycle bell and looked at it thoughtfully.
“Nope, that won’t work, too loud.”
He peered back into the pot and tugged at an old wellie boot and a cricket bat. He shook his head and threw them both aside.
He had another delve, and spotted a shiny basketball ring. “Aha, this is looking better”. Then he spied a ball of string and a tattered feather filled pillow.
“Splendid, these are
exactly
what I need to help Lennie with his nightmares… if I could only remember the spell.”
He scratched his head, closed his eyes, thought really hard and then uttered the magic words:
“Feathers flutter to this ball of string,
Weave your web to the basketball ring.
Tickle the nightmares and give them laughter,
Make them cheery and happy ever after”
Badger stood back and waited. Sparkles of light twinkled around him as the feathers, the string and the basketball ring lifted up, twirled around and headed straight for him.
Out in the lane, the birds were watching their youngsters try to fly, the alley cats were lounging in the shade of the old oak tree, and all was well in the neighbourhood. All except for Lennie, the new leader of the gang. A little further along the lane, Lennie was undergoing a terrifying torture. He was trapped in a murky dungeon and was tied to a strange stretching contraption. His tail was being pulled at one end while a tin watering can drenched his head at the other.
In a dank corner, Pogo Paws and Pickle sniggered as they turned a huge creaky wheel. With each turn, a mallet thumped Lennie’s snout, and his tail was yanked even further.
“Stop, please stop!” whimpered Lennie.
“Not until you admit you’re a rubbish gang leader and resign immediately,” shouted Pickle.
As the mallet struck him one more time, Lennie woke with a start.
He rubbed his nose and tried to wag his tail. All was fine. It had just been another of his horrible nightmares.
That’s it
, he thought.
I need to go and see Badger the Mystical Mutt, and find out if he’s finished my Dreamcatcher
.
As Lennie trotted towards Badger’s garden, he spotted Pogo Paws and Pickle in the distance.
Oh no
, he thought,
I’ve had quite enough of those two already today in that dreadful dream
.
He crouched behind the old oak tree and hid until they had disappeared out of sight. As he let out a huge sigh of relief, his nose caught the distinct whiff of a newly delivered p-mail. He sniffed the trail and read the message.
“Who is the Earl of Doodlepoppington?” he wondered aloud. “And why is he coming to visit Badger?”
He carried on to the famous crack in the fence at the bottom of Badger’s garden, and peered through. He saw his friend in a bit of a fankle.
There were feathers everywhere. Badger was flat on his back with his bottom wedged in the basketball ring, and string strung from all angles.
“Oh, you look a bit tied up, Badger! Let me help,” offered Lennie.
“Ah yes. The spell didn’t quite work, but it’s getting there,” said Badger sheepishly.
With feathers tickling his nose, he wiggled his bottom free of the basketball ring, and shook himself.
Lennie chuckled and said: “I have a message for you. I just picked up a p-mail from the Earl of Doodlepoppington. He’s coming to see you. Do you know him?”
“Doodles?” groaned Badger “Yes, I’m afraid I do. He’s my distant cousin, andthe rogue of the family. I wonder what he wants.”
“Is he posh? He sounds posh?”
“He thinks he is. He lives with his father, the Duke, in a stately kennel in Upper
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