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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "Look, Grandma! I can see them! You were right! They do steal!" I jumped up and down in all excitement. Grandma grabbed the binoculars from me, pressing it as close as she possibly could to her round global specy frame and peered hard. Had she her way, she would have thrust the spectacles into her sockets, I'm sure. Her pantings increased and she huffed and snorted so aloud that I thought it was from a red hot dragon. She pointed her long forefinger through the old bulging gauged window to the two little boys gathering the fallen twigs under the outstretched hands of the banyan tree. Scratching her nostril she yelled, "Thieves! Come, Pinkalee! Follow me!' She picked her wooden stick from the brass stand with which she shooed the dogs away, banged open the bungalow door, shouting at her highest pitch, running out holding her skirt in the other, into the little forestry behind. I ran after her with my frock flying, holding onto my precious binoculars, not wanting to miss a single frame as, after all, nothing would have been sighted without my binoculars. How else would grandma have run such a marathon today? Bonzo, hearing all the excitement, woke up from his nap, unruffled himself and started chasing me like he were to catch his prized rat. The bungalow resonated with grandma's orders, "Stop! Stop! I've caught you red handed! Dare you to steal my fire-wood!" The two little boys shocked and pale, dropped their hand full of twigs in utter confusion. Seeing Bonzo chasing, they yelled and ran at their highest speed. Bonzo charged at them, as if his tail were on fire and gallantly obstructed their way. They tripped over him and banged into the stony garage wall where grandma caught hold of their scruffs, smiling down with a victorious triumph. "We weren't stealing", they sobbed and breathed heavily, red faced in the summer heat. "We were merely collecting firewood for your evening meal", the elder spoke weakly. "Mine or yours?", grandma roared as Bonzo woofed looking from one to the other, wondering who the thief was. He was a trained bull-terrier who understood the word 'thief'. "Mother had told us to collect it as she was tired". "O. K! O. K.! But remember you must not steal. Only thieves steal", she whimpered like Bonzo had been scolded. "Now you can collect the firewood!". "Pinkalee let's see if the custard apples have ripened?" I called out to Bonzo who followed limply since he had lost his catch of the day. We walked back in proper protocol-Grandma in the lead, I behind grandma, and Bonzo behind me. "Pinkalee, don't you think the birds eat too much of our fruit? Who is that climbing my mango tree? Pinkalee, binoculars!" May 6, 2016
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