A new arrival from across the pond.
Sam, a large male polar bear, lay in his cage thinking of
the cub whom he’d last seen being thrown over a fence by his former mate. Sam himself, had been shipped to
Sam dreamt he was flying to the weather he wanted so much to experience. He could feel the effort he had to make to breathe the slightly oxygen depleted air in an aircraft, as he’d had to do when going to Florida. Sam tried to wake fully, but couldn’t. Letting go totally, Sam let sleep overcome him again, wondering if the dream would return. The next thing Sam knew was the feel of something soft and warm beneath his paws, a warm blanket or quilt Sam thought, and a scent, a scent he knew well which brought tears to his eyes. Still drugged with sleep, Sam reached out with both forepaws to gather a tiny cub to him. The cub snuggled up to Sam, recognising him instantly.
“My cub, “ Sam whispered, embracing the tiny cub tightly.
Arki woke suddenly. The scent of a male polar bear in the room made her fur bristle. She’d had trouble with male polar bears, and didn’t want trouble from this one. Looking round, she saw a large male polar bear hugging her cub. Launching herself at the newcomer, Arki walloped him with all her force! This woke the male polar bear, who looked at her through his tears. Arki hadn’t realised the huge male bear had been crying even before she’d hit him.
“Let go of my cub!” Arki yelled.
“Your cub?” The male polar bear sniffed, “she’s my cub,”
“I’m looking after her now,” Arki replied crossly, “now give her to me!”
“She’s my cub,” The polar bear sobbed, “My previous mate threw out one of her cubs, and now I find the cub here,” The bear replied.
“He’s my sire mum,” the cub yawned, waking slowly.
“Where did you come from?” Arki asked.
“I was born in the UK, then shipped to America,” the bear replied, “now I’m back home.”
“You and your cub, my cub I should say, do look similar,” Arki said, “so what’s your name?”
“They called me Sam,” Sam replied.
“Well Sam, you’re safe here,” Arki said.
The furball spat at Sam.
“You’re disgusting!” Tigger yelled at the furball.
“Who’s that?” Sam asked, waving a paw at the furball.
Oh him,” Arki said, “that’s the furball, he’s lusting after me, hates your cub, and wants me to have his. He’s a horrid individual, as miserable as sin and has no appeal to me what so ever.” The furball glared at Arki.
“One day Arki,” he said, “one day you will have my cubs!” Sam looked at his cub, then at Arki, and realised the two loved each other dearly. The furball was threatening Arki, he wasn’t expressing a wish for her to have his cubs, he was close to forcing her.
“Can I help you look after the cub?” Sam asked Arki. Arki was about to reply when Isaac crawled into the room, spotted Sam and asked who he was, and what the hell he was doing hugging his and Arki’s cub. Arki quickly explained, Isaac still hostile to the whole idea.
“So this cub has three guardians now?” He asked.
“Our cub has about thirty to forty guardians,” Arki said, “every animal will look out for her. Well, almost every one.” The furball snarled at Sam, who cuffed him hard across the nose.
“You do anything to upset or harm Arki, her cub, Isaac, or anyone here, I’ll personally break your paws!” Sam warned. The furball subsided into angry silence.
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Martin Wilsher © 2010
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