Miss. Mary Margaret’s annual bonfire party was fast approaching, and Tiny’s Storytime-Club chattered excitedly about their plans.
“I can’t wait for treacle toffee!” squealed Woodmint, rubbing his paws in glee.
“I’m excited for roasted hazelnuts!” added Liesel.
“I’m looking forward to soft buttery potatoes all zipped up in their hot crunchy jackets,” Tiny said dreamily, her mouth watering at the thought. It was Tiny’s favourite night of the year, and she was giddy at the thought of fireside stories and writing her name with the sparkle-stick in the cool night air.
It was Mary Margaret’s turn, “Lets write down our hopes and fears and feed them to the fire!” They all agreed it was a wonderful idea. Only Penny-dog was silent. And so they wrote their lists, and folded them neatly into parcels. Penny-dog did not join in.
On the night of the bonfire, Tiny skipped all the way to Mary Margaret’s with a heart full of happiness and a head full of party-poppers. She placed her warm gingerbread stars next to a tray of gleaming candy-apples, as delicious and irresistible as sweet cherry kisses. Outside the friends oohed and aahed at the glittering fireworks that bloomed in the skies above.
Penny-dog sat silently in the corner, until she could bear it no longer.
“I’m sorry,” she thought, “I can’t come outside.”
“Whyever not?” cried Tiny, the last of the party-poppers fizzling out in her mind.
“The truth is Tiny, I’m afraid of the booms!” She hung her head in shame and Tiny’s heart sank; but she knew what she had to do. The little red dog with white gloves and socks watched as Tiny walked outside, fed a paper parcel to the hungry fire and returned without a word. They watched the lightshow from the window until Penny-dog broke the comfortable silence, “What did you hope for Tiny?”
“I hoped that my best friend will never be afraid again,” said Tiny, nuzzling her face against the warm furry shoulder, “Who needs fireworks, when I have you?”