I,
Daniel the Dangerous, am a detective.
Today
I do not have a case to solve.
I
slept until the sun was already up.
I
rolled out of bed.
I
stretched.
My
dog Whimper opened one eye.
I
walked to the window.
Whimper
followed.
The
sun was shining.
There
wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
The
birds were singing.
Birds singing drive me nuts.
Whimper hunts singing birds.
Children
were playing in their yards.
A hip-hopopotamous was eating the vegetables out of my garden.
I
do not own a hip-hopopotamous.
Whimper
does not own a hip-hopopotamous.
Whimper
and I rushed through the house.
We
hurtled dolls, a Nintendo and a vaccum.
We
rushed out to the backyard.
The
hip-hopopotamous started to eat a snap pea.
A
bite here.
A
bite there.
He
started to eat a tomato.
(I
did not know hip-hopopotamous’ liked tomatos.)
I,
Dangerous Daniel, like tomatoes.
I,
Dangerous Daniel, like tomatoes a lot.
Whimper
likes the pasta gravy mom makes with tomatoes.
Soon
there would not be any tomatoes to make pasta gravy.
I
stared at the hip-hopopotamous.
He
was small for a hip-hopopotamous.
He
had big ears.
His
ears wiggled when he ate.
He
had a big square mouth.
He
was pink.
Mostly,
he had a big appetite.
My
garden was in danger.
I
knew I must take him away.
But
what would I do with a hip-hopopotamous?
“You
must live somewhere,” I said.
“Do
you have an address?”
He
said nothing.
“Do
you have a phone number?” I tried.
Still,
he said nothing.
“E-Mail?”
I asked again.
But
hip-hopopotamous’ cannot talk.
He
looked at me.
His
eyes were sad.
I
could tell.
Slowly.
Very
slowly,
very,
very slowly
he
began to thump away.
Was
he going home?
No.
He was going to eat my watermelon.
This
hip-hopopotamous was lost.
He
needed the help of Dangerous Daniel
and
his trusty dog Whimper.
“I,
Dangerous Daniel, have never taken
a
case for a pink hip-hopopotamous before.”
I
told him.
“But
you are lost.
I
will help you.”
I
got dressed.
Whimper
got a drink from the toilet.
I
told mom of my new case.
I
found an old dog lease in the garage.
I
also found Whimper’s old collar.
I
carefully caught the hip-hopopotamous.
“I
am taking you home,”
I
said. “I wish I knew where that
was.”
Where
could his home be?
This
hip-hopopotamous was a slow mover.
He
was easy to catch.
Maybe
he did not walk
too
far from home.
I
followed his footsteps out of the garden.
They
ended on the sidewalk in front of my house.
He
knew how to find food.
He
could have been walking for days.
He
could have eaten his way here from Africa.
A
hip-hopopotamous could live anywhere.
I
spoke to Whimper.
“I
don’t think he walked from Africa by himself.
I
think he is someone’s pet.
Who
would own such a strange pet?”
Whimper
barked.
“Of
course!” I answered.
We
headed down the street to Alejandra’s house.
The
hip-hopopotamous slowed us down.
We
walked
up
the front steps.
Whimper
sniffed the steps.
He
was on the trail of something.
I
bent down to see
what
Whimper was sniffing.
I
saw nothing.
I
knocked on the front door.
Alejandra
opened it.
She
was holding two cookies.
Whimper
wagged his tale.
Her
pet hamster and pet gopher
were
eating dropped chunks off of the floor.
Her
pet mouse and pet rat
were
eating the smaller crumbs.
“I
have brought over a lost pet,”
I
said.
“Why
thank you,” Alejandra answered.
She
looked at the end of the leash.
“That
is not a rodent.”
she
said. “It is pink and large.
My
mother will not let me keep it.
Thank
you anyway.”
“It
is not a gift,” I said.
“He
was eating my garden.
I
am looking for his home.
Do
you know anybody who has lost
a
strange pet?”
“I
heard Michael lost something,” Alejandra said.
Whimper
ate the last crumbs of the cookie
Alejandra
fed him.
We
headed to Michael’s.
Michael’s
father was a big game hunter.
He
hunted collectable stores for old games.
He
had them all, Monopoly, Yatzee, Chutes and Ladders.
He
also hunted for the other type of game.
He
hunted for the big, wild animals of Africa --
Lions,
rhinos, elephants and hip-hopopotamous’.
We
turned down Turner Street.
Whimper
caught wind of something.
A
giant footstep.
The
hip-hopopotamous saw it too.
Was
there a tear in his eye?
Whimper
ran ahead.
Another
foot print.
Empty
peanut shells.
The
clues were mounting.
A
small pink, fuzzy, hip-hopopotamous.
A
large foot print.
Empty
peanut shells.
We
turned the next corner.
Michael’s
dad smiled at us.
He
was chewing something.
We
moved closer.
It
was a peanut.
He
threw away the shell.
“Hello,
Danny.”
“It’s
Daniel, sir.” I said. “Dangerous Daniel.”
“On
a case then?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Michael
appeared at his front door.
His
sister was behind him.
She
ran for the hip-hopopotamous.
She
was not afraid.
She
hugged it.
It
hugged her back.
Obviously,
they knew one another.
“Daniel,”
Michael called, “you found Fluffy.”
Fluffy
was a funny name for a fierce African creature.
“Good
work Danny,” his dad added.
“We
just won her at the circus.”
“It
must have fallen off of the stroller,” Michael added.
“Won
her?” I was confused.
I
turned around to look at the hip-hopopotamous.
To
my surprise, it was now a fuzzy stuffed hip-hopopotamous.
Were
my eyes playing tricks on me?
Was
it ever real?
I
thought about this all the way home.
Whimper
and I reached my garden.
There
were nibble marks on all of the vegetables.
“Something
strange just happened here Whimper.”
“Something strange indeed.”
The End
1. Was there really a hip-hopopotamous?
2. What were clues that helped to to discover that the hip-hopopotamous was not real?
3. Who was really eating the garden?
4.
Daniel and the Hip-hopopotamous
needs more pictures please draw tree more pictures and tell where you would put
each.