Iris carefully stepped in, she loved looking at water, studying it at times but the thought of falling in, well that was just horrible, she was frightened of it and even bath time filled her with worries. She placed her paintbrush next to Thula on the bench.
‘Keep an eye on it, if we loose the brush we wont be able to get back’
Thula put her nose up in the air and looked the other way, she didn’t like being told what to do even if it was by her favourite human in all of the worlds.
‘Oh come on Thulie Bulie’ she tickled her soft white fur under her chin and then picked up the oars and started to row the boat.
Off they went, Iris and Thula afloat in a purple boat. An idyllic scene but like every tale of adventure there is sure to be some trouble ahead or on this journey take a look behind them.
With every stroke in the water they could feel a heavy beat, a heron flew above, ginormous grey wings and yellow beak. As he flew down beside them his graceful neck was shaped like an ‘S’, so close Iris could almost touch the white feathers streaked with black.
Iris looked at Thula, her ears were flat back, she turned to see water skiing geese as they landed into the water one after another ‘whoosh’. Then it became clear why Thula was upset, the noise, the unbearable hinking and honking. ‘Row faster’ Thula called out. Iris couldn’t think straight, the noise seemed to cloud everything, ‘look at me, focus’ Iris looked into her green eyes outlined with black, her perfect patterned tabby coat shone in the light and she pulled at the oars. The geese became a distant sound and soon they couldn’t hear them at all.
‘Always at your service’ Thula said with a little bow. As both their heads lowered they noticed at once that something was missing.
‘The brush!’ they said in unison.
‘where has it gone, oh no Thula this is awful, what shall we do ?’
Thula looked up with a thoughtful look upon her face, ‘It can’t just vanish it’s never done that before. Someone must have taken it.’
‘but who, we are the only ones on the boat’
‘there was one other, he was flying right beside us, I always thought you can’t trust a heron, the way they stalk about, those legs, did you see those legs, scaly not like my beauties.’ Thula looked down at her legs and raised one up.
‘concentrate Thula, they are very beautiful, perfect but that’s not the point, the brush !’
‘Ah yes, the brush, we need to find the heron, then we will find the brush. Someone must have seen where he flew to.’
Part 2 of Arabella’s short story for Iris, more from this next time.