Stories by Miles Venison
The little piglet spent another rainy night in the sty, sheltering alone and cold under the water trough. Before daybreak the chief rooster crowed, but Henry didn't go to the big round hill to watch the dawn. The sun rose unnoticed behind a blanket of grey. As morning continued, the rain stopped, and sunbeams began... Continue Reading →
Mr McGinley stooped down and tried to catch Henry, but the piglet was too fast. He darted in and out between the donkey's legs, back and forward and around in circles, squealing the whole time. It was only when he tripped and fell that Mr McGinley pounced and caught him, gathering him up in his... Continue Reading →
"Please," said the Clydesdale, her eyes to the ground. "Samson is my friend. Please, just let him be. Fergus, go back to the henhouse. Winston, please forgive the cattle dog's ignorance." "Forgive me?" said Fergus. "I won't have a chicken lord it over me!" The young hen pecked her head forward at Fergus. She clucked... Continue Reading →
A blanket covered the donkey from his shoulders to his tail, and in front of him lay a small pile of straw and two carrots, untouched. Henry approached slowly. "Samson? Did you stay here all night? I missed you at the hill this morning." After waiting a silent minute, the piglet wandered around. He inspected... Continue Reading →
Atop of the hill, Henry sat and finished his apple core and waited. He looked up the paddock, toward the stables; there was no movement at first, but soon the horses wandered out. No donkey. Henry paced back and forth; he took a long, probing look at the willow tree; he turned and looked up... Continue Reading →
Until Henry jumped in the water, the cattle dog never quite believed his practical joke would succeed. Fergus was a resentful newcomer to Butterberry Farm (Mr McGinley having recently bought him from a neighbour), but now he felt he would enjoy his new home. His jubilation, however, was interrupted by a splash and a gasp... Continue Reading →
"The best thing to do," said Fergus, "is go to the far side of the dam and jump in from the bank, where the ground is high." Henry looked doubtful. "To make it convincing," Fergus said. "Convincing?" "Yes. You want Samson to believe you need his help, right? Well, then you can't just wade in... Continue Reading →
Samson stood up and resumed eating grass. Henry stood alongside him, stretching his head up to see how tall he stood compared to the donkey. Not even to his knee. Henry sighed. "You can't run," he said. "That's okay. I can't swim." Samson looked down at the piglet. "I've never been in deep water," said... Continue Reading →
The hill at the north end of Butterberry Farm was a long, steady ascent right up to ancient wire fence, behind which trees and shrubs grew wild. The ground was uneven and overgrown in parts, so far proving unfruitful for crops. At night, small rodents darted through the grass; hares would sometimes sneak in under... Continue Reading →
That afternoon, Henry roamed around to the front of the farmhouse to see the cattle dog, whom he considered his best friend. The cattle dog considered the young runt something of a plaything, similar to how the cat would view a dead mouse. Beneath the eaves at the front of the farmhouse was a narrow... Continue Reading →
In Search of Lost Marbles 