It seemed like a good idea at the time.
This is my refrain when I’m faced with the fallout from one of those that’s-not-quite-what-I-was-expecting moments.
Take the time my sister Poppy and I were planning a birthday surprise for this girl at school. Her name was Suzi—short for Susanne, a name that everyone seemed to fancy except Suzi herself.
Anyway, Suzi had definite opinions about things she liked and didn’t like. So, as her eleventh birthday approached, she let it be known that she would like to have a dog.
Suzi’s parents weren’t exactly hot on the idea. In fact, they had three cats and the thought of a dog upsetting their calm and quiet kitty clan was not appealing.
Suzi implored us to help her out with a plan to win over her parents, which Poppy and I agreed to do.
Part of the plan consisted of presenting—at her birthday party—a dog with such an agreeable personality that her parents couldn’t possibly say no.
The other part of the plan—the part we didn’t tell Suzi—was how we planned to come by said puppy. Going to the local pet store just wouldn’t do. Oh no, we had a more clever idea than that.
It had been a little over a year since our discovery of a Magic that allowed us to create little creatures. With this experience, we thought it would be no problem if we turned our creative endeavors toward designing the perfect dog—one that was small, cute and didn’t mind hanging with cats.
The first thing that went wrong was that the dog, we had so casually conjured, didn’t show up in the confines of our bedroom, nor in the general vicinity of the Gypsy Grove (as we had been hoping for), but running around in downtown Cratersville.
It was only the quick thinking of our friend Bluesy that saved the frolicking pooch from a quick trip to the pound.
After that, we spent an entire week playing find and tackle with a hairy Houdini.
When we finally showed up on Suzi’s doorstep, we were wondering if our creation was going to be present long enough to become the present it was meant to be.
We put on our bubbliest personalities for Suzi’s parents as they greeted us at the door. Any trepidation they had had upon seeing the unexpected canine, quickly vanished as they warmed to the dog’s amiable personality.
Suzi was in puppy heaven.
Everything seemed to be going as planned.
Until, the dog saw the cats.
In a moment, Poppy and I realized what we had so obviously overlooked—a dog chasing after cats in the spirit of friendship doesn’t look much different than a dog chasing after cats in a state of agitation.
In both cases, the dog goes hyper, while the cats hiss, turn tail and split.
At that point, a game of chase ensued, and it didn’t stop until the guests were scattered, the fruit punch was splattered and the birthday cake was in tatters.
By the time the dog and cats finally settled down, the party was ruined.
Poppy and I skipped out while no one was looking.
We spent the rest of the evening drawing in our Creation Books.
The following year when Suzi decided she wanted a horse, she knew better than to call us.
—Jellybean Reds, Creator of Little Creatures