RIF's "I Love Animals" Writing Contest

 
Grand Prize Winner:
Isabella K.
Age 7
Grenada, MS

Bobo

It all started when I fell out of my nest on a cool autumn day. All my brothers and sisters were pushing and shoving, I tried to hold on but I could not hold on anymore. Plop! There I was, a helpless, tiny flying squirrel out in the cold, dangerous forest, all alone. I needed help from my mom, bad.  But before you could count to five in Roman numerals, I was in the warm hands of a little long-haired lady.  She must have been about seven in human years. 

"His eyes are as big as the world" she said. "His fur is as soft as a cloud". Then she took me to her home and placed me in a little blue plastic spaceship with warm blankets inside. "You're going to like living here, Bobo," she said. "Yo!" I thought, "I love that name, Bobo! But,  I'm hungry".  The next thing I knew, the little long haired lady fed me some warm formula from a bottle. That was groovy, man. Humans must not sleep much, because she was feeding me every two hours. At night she filled a hot-water bottle for me to keep me warm while I slept. 

I can't get any bigger now. I'm all grown up. And I'm faster than lightning! My little long-haired lady gives me fruit, yogurt and nuts, which I love. When I hide a pecan I bury it so no one can find it. I glide through the night, swooping behind the cookbooks and crawl behind the computer. "He runs on me like I'm a tree" says my lady. 

Living here makes me want to sing. Now listen to this:

 Hey! They call me BoBo.
When I heard that name, I said, "Yo."
I like it a lot.
I'm a flying squirrel and I live in a spaceship.
I get out at night and I jump around.
I’m nocturnal, yeah, I sleep all day.
I always get my way.
So I say, "Yay!"
 
Hey! My name is Bobo.
I hide behind the cookbooks.
I say, "Give me a nut,"  and she does.
Whenever she calls, I come to see what's going on.
I got a good life.
Yes, I do.
She's a little girl and she loves me too.
What!
She's mine, yeah, cuz she's mine."

I love my little long-haired lady. That's a fact, not fiction. So I didn’t mean any harm the time I chewed up her poem she had written for school. I saw her smile when she said, "That's a good excuse! My flying squirrel ate my homework." 

The End 

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