The Weewoo who found his name

     One fateful morning, as the sun rose over Krawk Island and the flocks of Parakeet and Pawkeets started their cacophony of daily songs, each one clamouring to be louder their neighbours, a small Weewoo gently stirred from his sleep. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched his tail feathers, then peered out from his cosy nest in the Little Nippers Shop. Today would be a good day he decided, perhaps the day his lifelong friend would come in and pick him up, they would buy him his very own bed and toys to play with, and they would travel together to exciting places. So he fluffed his feathers up and gave a loud chirrup as he turned to watch the door.

     Many customers came in, many different species from Acaras to Xweetoks had a wander around the shop, but none glanced twice at the Weewoo. The hours passed, but the little Weewoo remained cheery: every hour that passed was an hour sooner that he would find his best friend! Eventually, as the sun was descending over the sea and hauntingly beautiful Wee-woo melodies started to sing out over the Island, one of the customers came over and picked up the little Weewoo. “Yarr! I’ll be taking this one and I’ll thank-ee kindly.” Growled the Krawk.

     Oh joy! Picked finally and going home with my very new friend! Thought the Weewoo. He bobbed up and down in excitement, wee-wooing delightedly as he was unceremoniously stuffed into a coat pocket as the Krawk left the shop. He stood on his tip-toes and peeped out of the pocket at all the amazing sights they passed. The noises from the taverns and the smells from The Golden Dubloon filled his senses with amazement and wonder. He had never imagined anything could be just so busy. He let out small ‘peep’s of enthusiasm at every new sight or smell. They wandered down the dock and into a row boat, before rowing towards a large ship. Once the Krawk had climbed aboard, the Weewoo still in his pocket, he shouted to his crewmates and headed down below decks to his hammock. He pulled the Weewoo out and plonked him onto the crate. “Ye be mine now,” he told the Weewoo, “Ye be called Barry, and ye’ll be me good luck charm. My name is Pug. Don’t wander off now, it ain’t safe for little petpets to be alone on a ship. Ye might be gettin’ lost, or worse, washed overboard!” Pug fetched out some crumbs for Barry before yawning and getting into his hammock. Barry watched Pug as he fell asleep, then ate some of the crumbs and Wee-wooed sadly. This isn’t how he imagined it would be. It was very early though, so perhaps tomorrow would be a better day as they got to know each other more? He fluffed himself down onto the crate and tried to get used to the rolling rhythm of the boat as he drifted off to sleep.

     The ship left the harbour with a favourable tide as the sun rose. For better or for worse, the little Weewoo was now a crew member. After a breakfast of hard biscuits he returned to Pug’s pocket and observed life onboard as the crew were busy setting the sails, making the deck shipshape and scrubbing the rails. When Pug had to climb the rigging, he gave out a shrill whistle in alarm as they got higher and higher but he was brusquely told to “Be quiet and don’t distract me!” so he hunkered down, deep in the pocket and shivered. The wind was really very cold up at the top of the mast and it whipped up foam from the sea to make everything damp. This really wasn’t how he imagined life would be at all.

     Later that night, as he tried to dry off whilst Pug slept, he chirruped a little song:

     You have called me Barry,

     So Barry I will be,

     But that is not the name,

     My mother gave to me.

     If you could look deeper,

     And gaze into my eyes,

     Perhaps you will see me:

     That is where my truth lies.

     Dawn broke and another cold hard day lay ahead. None of the petpets on the boat strayed far from their owners, perhaps having been given the same warning as Barry. Barry was very sad and felt very alone. This was supposed to be the happiest time he had had – with his new best friend forever. But It didn’t feel like Pug wanted to be his friend at all. Barry was confused.

     After 5 days of rough sailing the ship pulled into harbour off the coast of Brightvale. All the crew were given a few days of shore leave while the ship was restocked and business deals were made. So Barry and Pug wandered into town, Barry was very excited to see an entirely new place, but couldn’t shake off the sadness which had come upon him on board the ship, so what should have been a feeling of wonder and joy was tainted and slightly turned grey in his mind. After heading down some less salubrious streets Pug entered a dingy tavern with his friends and a long, noisy night started. After several hours in the same place, Pug had lost a significant amount of neopoints playing cards and owed more than he had. He grew angry and hoisted Barry from his pocket saying “Fine, take this petpet and be gone with you.” He stormed out, leaving the little Weewoo shivering uncontrollably on the table, in amongst dubloons, neopoints and other shiny things.

     A fierce-looking Skeith pulled the pile on the table towards himself, laughing. He lifted the Weewoo up and brought him close to his face. “Well aren’t you the littlest thing.” He laughed again. “Well well, I will have to give you a name.” The Weewoo stood on one leg and said ‘peep!’ Maybe this time everything would work out right, maybe the jolly Skeith would be his bestest of all best friends! “Hmmm. Harold? No, that doesn’t sound right. Something smaller than a Harold. Hmmm. Tom? No. Jelly? No. Poppet? Hmmm yes. Poppet sounds about right. That will do for now I suppose.” He chuckled again as he filled his pockets with his winnings, then picked up Poppet and put him on his shoulder. “Hang on tight, little one!”

     Poppet dug his claws in tight to the Skeith’s shoulder in order to not fall off on each step. It required quite a lot of balance and he supposed he would get used to it in a few days, but it was a very disconcerting feeling overall. He sniffed and let out a quiet wee-woo. As the Skeith wandered home he greeted many others, it seemed like he knew the whole town thought Poppet. They walked past many cosy looking houses until they reached their destination, a small white cottage with green window frames and a green door which looked almost too small to fit the Skeith through. Upon entering the house, there was an outburst of tweets, yowls and snuffles. There were petpets everywhere. Poppet couldn’t believe his eyes, he didn’t know how many different petpets there could be! And all in different colours too! It was very overwhelming. The Skeith put him down onto the arm of a battered looking armchair before wandering off, careful not to step onto any of his skittering petpets. Poppet bobbed uncertainly and wiggled his ears. The once the other petpets had been fed they soon turned their attention on the newcomer. Poppet let out a ‘wee-woo’ as the petpets clambered around him, sniffing and poking and snuffling. Eventually they decided he wasn’t particularly scary or interesting and went back to fighting over toys and the remains of their dinner. “Wee-woo?” Poppet turned around, another Weewoo looked at him with his head on one side. Poppet tilted his head too and returned “Wee-woo.”

     “Aha! You’ve found a friend!” said the Skeith. “Good night little ones.” He turned off the light and left the room. All the petpets raced into their beds, with Poppet not moving from the armchair. It was all too noisy and chaotic. He really wasn’t very sure, how could one person be the best friend to all of these petpets? They had to share toys and beds which was fine, but not really what he wanted to do. He sighed and sang softly to himself:

     You have called me Poppet,

     So Poppet I will be,

     But that is not the name,

     My mother gave to me.

     If you could look deeper,

     And gaze into my eyes,

     Perhaps you will see me:

     That is where my truth lies.

     The sun rose brightly the following day, and the petpets were soon up and awake, chasing around the room. They were fed and let out into the large garden where they quickly raced around and around in games. Poppet sat in the corner nervously, too scared of the rough and tumble nature of the braver petpets to want to join in. Every so often the Skeith would show another Neopet around the garden, and this Neopet would take a petpet. This was a black market petpet shop Poppet realised! The Skeith wasn’t their best friend, he was selling them off. Poppet bobbed up and down. He wasn’t at all sure whether this was good news or bad news.

     After a few weeks in the chaos Poppet noticed that sometimes the Skeith would take a petpet for a day and return with a different coloured petpet, this confused him – how was this possible? He was getting more used to the noise and pandemonium that started at daybreak and continued until dark, but he still didn’t really like to join in. It was all a bit too much for him, he wanted a quiet home with one best friend to play with and maybe he could meet the petpets his friends had.

     As the sun reached its zenith on an unremarkable autumn day, sending the leaves into bursts of colour, an elderly Kyrii approached. After exchanging words and money with the Skeith he gently picked up the little Weewoo. “Hello there my dear,” the Kyrii said, “haven’t you got the loveliest feathers? My name is Doris. We have a quite a long journey I’m afraid, before we get to my home, but I hope we will be able to get to know each other on the way.”

     The little Weewoo gave a merry dance and said ‘Peep!’ Doris kept the Weewoo in her hands as she walked, oh so slowly, down the road to the carriage stop. She pointed out all the interesting things they passed and that passed them by and taught the Weewoo all the names of the different species and colours of pets that they saw along their journey.

     After a long day in the carriage, they reached the outskirts of Meridell. They walked up to a small thatched cottage, with flowers in pots around the door. It was the loveliest house the little Weewoo thought he had ever seen. As they entered he saw everything was neat and tidy, there was a warm feeling inside him. “These are for you,” said Doris, showing the Weewoo a small selection of petpet-sized toys, and a little bed beside the fireplace. He gave out a shrill whistle of happiness and bobbed up and down. “There, there.” Doris crooned. “Don’t overexcite yourself. I’m afraid this might not be the most exciting place for you, but it is warm and full of love. I am ever so lonely now I am alone here as my grandchildren live very far away in Neopia Central. I hope you will be a good friend for me.” She sighed and put the kettle on the stove. “I do hope you will be happy here.”

     The Weewoo let out several contented ‘wee-woos’ and blinked at her.

     Once Doris had settled down into her armchair with a cup of tea and a biscuit which she shared with the Weewoo, she looked at him long and hard. “Well now, you’ll be needing a name I suppose. Let me see. How do you like the name Ed?” The Weewoo shivered uncontrollably. “Hmm no, not Ed then. How about Peter?” The Weewoo licked his lips. “Ok, well then, I think I have a good one. How about Jasper?” The little Weewoo was so excited he did a merry dance and let out a shrill whistle! “Ahaha so Jasper is your name. Well it is a lovely name Jasper. It is very nice to meet you.”

     As the afternoon wore on Jasper played with his new toys and explored the house from top to bottom. He had a delicious dinner and cuddled up in his bed by the warm embers as Doris went to her bedroom. He softly sang:

     You have called me Jasper,

     And given me a home,

     And I am warm and comfortable

     And neither of us alone.

     Now we have each other,

     Until the very end,

     We will be the happiest

     And the very best of friends.

      The End.