Be Patient, Little Chick – Little Animal Adventures – by Patricia Jensen – Book Review

This charming picture book tells us about the hatching of an independent-minded and curious little chick. He  boldly sets out to explore the world without his mother. He wants to fly like the robin, swim like the duck, eat bones like the dog,  and face down the big scary rooster. In the end mother hen has to drive off the rooster and the little chick finally excepts her wisdom that growing up takes patience.

The illustrations are realistic but lack any originality or pizzazz. It could have been more humorous.

The story ends with two pages of facts about baby chicks and hens.

This is a good book to teach a child that chickens are more than just meat and egg producers. They are living beings with relationships and personalities. As well, most children can relate to the little chicks impatience at not being able to do everything the grown ups do. It’s suitable for ages 4 to 7.

 This is a good book to stimulate discussion about animals and about maturing at a safe and reasonable  pace.

Buy link https://amzn.to/36ho6jm

 

Chick toy purchase link https://amzn.to/37eCvMg

Bathtime for Biscuit by Alyssa Satin Capucilli. Illustrations by Pat Schories. Book review.

Buy link https://amzn.to/2Vhcgz2

The Biscuit series of books are classed as “I can read!”. They are perfect for very beginning readers. Biscuit is an adorable puppy who does the kinds of things real dogs do. In this story, he resists getting into the bath.

The little girl wants Biscuit to get into that tub but he wants to dig instead. She struggles to manipulate him into the water but, after a short emmersion, he escapes and chases another puppy named Puddles. The two of them dig in the mud and play in the water. Then they roll in the flower bed where the girl tries to catch them with a towel. Both puppies latch on and a tug-of-war ensues. It ends with the little girl falling into the bathtub herself. Children laugh out loud at this ending.

It is difficult to find emergent reading books that have engaging, logical stories children can relate to and enjoy reading. The Biscuit stories are perfect. Capucilli captures the mischievous and endearing nature of puppies while Schories draws them with simplicity and charm.

Highly recommended for emergent readers in Kindergarten and first grade.

I am accepting books for review. For information on how to submit, go here: https://bferrante.wordpress.com/2016/07/09/get-featured-on-my-blog/

Pushball A Game That’s Tasty to Eat! by Thomas Leavey. Illustrated by John Buck. Book review.

 

I procrastinated reviewing this book for quite some time because I was unsure what to  say about it. I read it a few times to my granddaughter and  solicited feedback from others.

The storyline is quite peculiar. A duck tries to get a groundhog to play Pushball with a giant ball. The groundhog dislikes the game and wants to eat the ball. The game does not go very well; the groundhog thinks it is too rough. At the end the groundhog eats the entire ball which swells him to four times his natural size.

The story is written in humorous rhyme abcb. Each page has from 1 to 3 quatrains. Here’s an example.

 The groundhog was puzzled

And stopped in his tracks.

He said, *that’s what I get (sic)

 for playing with quacks!”

 There are 42 quatrains in total which seems more than necessary for such a simple story.

The author explains on the last two pages that the moral of the story is “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again.” Then he explains  each animal’s secret for success.  This felt a little awkward.

However, the other reviews on Amazon  are all five stars. But the people I shared this with felt more like I did. My granddaughter thought it was funny and strange but long and wasn’t interested in subsequent readings.

 The illustrations are great. Vivid, lively and funny.

I have mixed feelings about this book.

Petscapade (Mystery Book Club 1) by Nadishka Aloysius. Book Review.

Buy link https://amzn.to/39o3qrG

Petscapade is the story of four girls and a boy, 9 years old, who form a mystery book club. When a purebred kitten goes missing they decide to use their knowledge to solve the mystery of whether the cat has wandered off or been stolen. The novel starts out quite slowly and the reader needs to show patience as this is a gently paced book. The cover fails to inform or interest the reader.

About a quarter of the way through the novel I discovered it was taking place in Sri Lanka. I’m not sure if I missed that indicator earlier on. It’s important to realize this as the way that children speak is unusually articulate and adult for 9 year olds.

“Yes, it is rather,” agreed Lal, with a grin.

There are several cultural behaviors that may strike North Americans as unusual if they are not aware of the context. For example, the children are not allowed to bring fiction books to school to read and their social interactions are strictly controlled. Once the reader realizes the environment, it becomes quite intriguing to learn new customs and terms.

The story is told in a straightforward manner with little emotion. However, There are moments of humor.

Cara laughed. “If every grumpy person is a criminal, we would all be in jail!”

The author doesn’t shy away from controversial viewpoints.I think this book should launch some interesting discussions about our abysmal treatment of animals such as supporting pet stores, eating meat, and abandoning pets.

I’m not sure political remarks belong in a book for 9 year olds though.

“And she is Tamil…” Amal broke off.

There is one beautiful paragraph that will give food for thought.

“I have taught my son that sometimes, you need to intervene to help others. I don’t believe in sitting on the sidelines watching the world fall apart. Children must be taught to take whatever action they can to make the world a better place.”

The case of the missing cat, which turns out to be cats actually, is resolved positively even though the children are discouraged and sometimes condemned for their actions in trying to locate the missing kitten. The lesson of perseverance is worthwhile.

Cat Rhymes for Kids

Some well-known and unfamiliar rhymes about cats, most with different interpretations.

Cat masks for followup fun. Add elastic. Print on heavy paper about 7 inches wide for a child.

Finger puppet mouse. Glue edges together for front and back. Print 1.5 inches wide.

Read one of my favorite cat books, Nat the Cat Can Sleep Like That,  reviewed here.

https://bferrante.wordpress.com/2017/09/30/nat-the-cat-can-sleep-like-by-victoria-allenby-and-tara-anderson/

Upside Down Babies by Jeanne Willis and Adrian Reynolds. Book Review.

 

The Illustrations in this book are engaging and adorable. The animal’s expressions are priceless.

It begins, “Once when the world jturned upside down”. We see animal babies and human babies spinning through the air wearing concerned expressions. On the next page, piglet lands in a parrot’s nest. On the following, the baby tortoise lands in an otter’s home, the lion cub lands beside a cow, and it continues. The expressions on the faces of the mothers and babies are priceless.

The foster mothers try their best but there are insurmountable odds. The cow cannot provide meat for the lion. The baby elephant can’t jump like the monther kangaroo. This sloth baby cannot keep up with the cheetah.

But then the world goes upside down again and everything returns to as it was. The families are happy to be reunited except for two. My granddaughter and I were disconcerted that the gorilla keeps the human baby and the mother keeps the gorilla baby. There seems to be no reason for this and most children will probably find it funny but there is a undertone of discomfort with the idea. However, children who don’t think too deeply on the subject will just just think it’s silly.

The follow-up to this could be a discussion of new pairings of mothers and babies. Which ones could work and what ones could never be compatible?

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Animal Ring Toss – Toy Review

 

Durability 5 The pieces are made from painted wood and rope. So far they have survived well but I believe that they shouldn’t be thrown or banged together to keep them looking good.

 

Play quality 5 It’s great to have an indoor activity (which could also be used outside) that encourages large motor skills and physical movement. Children learn the names of the animals and the colors as well. If you keep score, children learn how to add higher numbers. With encouragement, they can develop throwing strategies for better accuracy. Children can play alone or with a friend. There are enough rings for four people. It could be a fun center for a children’s birthday party,

 

Safety 5 Children should be encouraged not to run up to the pegs. Although, if they fell on them, they would likely not hurt themselves. The animal pegs have large heads and round edges. There are no stand-alone posts. Even though the pieces interlock like jigsaw puzzles, they would tip over easily if a child fell on them. They are built with safety in mind.

 

Age interest 5 Children 3 years of age and up will love playing this game. Just adjust the starting line closer or farther depending on the child’s development. It’s a game even adults will enjoy.

Storage and portability 5 All the pieces fit easily back in the sturdy box. You may have to reinforce it with some tape if the lid starts to tear.

Price 5 I purchased it on sale for $12 Canadian at Home Sense.I would definitely pay double that for it since it seems to be more safely designed than a lot of Peg Toss games out there.

 

Highly recommended.

Recycled Sundays – Who Has Been Eating the Bird Seed?

I have difficulty saying no to charity canvassers. If I’d known about the great mice hoard, have forced myself.

A gentleman was selling bird seed for a children’s charity. We have a feeder. It was mostly frequented by sparrows who seldom eat sunflower seeds. The gentleman left the bag in my front hallway. Sit stay there until my husband came home. I couldn’t carry it to the shed myself. I couldn’t even drag it across the kitchen floor. The bag weighed more than my oldest child and was almost as tall. She’s twelve.

My husband dropped the bag in a corner of the shed. He added a quarter cup of sunflower seeds to the wild bird mixture in the feeder. At that rate, our children would inherit the remaining seeds. We seldom added to sunflower seeds to the feeder since the birds seldom ate them. One cold March morning, we discovered some other wild creature enjoying the contents of the bag. It looked like it was still full but it was actually full of empty shells.

Mice had been feasting and cleverly disguising the evidence. My husband bought six traps. We thought we’d catch three or four. After the twentieth, I realized there was a Mice Metropolis under our shed. The mouse mayor must have sent out flyers: Come for the best seeds in town.

As time passed, the trapped mice became smaller and younger. I tried not to think of Baby Mice trapped while out searching for their mothers who had already been killed. My children displayed a mixture of sadistic fascination and sympathy for the small defenseless creatures. “Do we have to kill the little ones?” (In six weeks, those little ones are having little ones.) The hardest to accept was that we refused to dig up half the yard for a rodent cemetery.

Some mice, it turns out, are more callus then we are. I think they send the stupid out to die. An unsuspecting fool springs the trap and while he’s gasping his last goodbyes, the others munch safely on the peanut butter bait

Peridocally, my husband caught sight of a huge critter fleeing as he reset the traps. It looked like the same large mouse was often enjoying the benefits of another mouse’s death. This giant may well have started the whole society. More traps were set but he was evasive.

When the count passed forty, I wondered if there any more left in the entire city of Thunder Bay. My husband kept setting up the traps. He hadn’t yet caught old Wiley.

One spring day my husband swept out the shed. Mice don’t clean up after themselves. A few boxes were damaged fortunately the mice had not chewed through the tent. Traps were reset with double doses of peanut butter.

“Wiley’s probably moved out with the good weather,” I said. “Who’d want to stay in a place where everybody gets their heads crushed?”

But the temperature dropped and old Wiley returned for another stab at the peanut butterr. He was the last one caught. He almost deserved a little grave beside the sparrow the cat got and the Bohemian waxwing that hit our neighbor’s window.

There was almost a third grade out there last fall. I discovered my husband was storing bird seed in the shed.

“Are you nuts?” I screeched.

“No problem.It’s in a sealed plastic bucket. They can’t get in.”

That wouldn’t have stopped old Wiley. Come to think of it, rodent teeth can chew through wood so why would plastic be any different? I gave the bird feeder to charity.

 

First published in the Chronicle-Journal/Times-News

Sunday, February 2, 1992

Recycled Sundays – Animal Karma

I am relieved to see that our Canadian animals are not following in the violent footsteps of their Old World Counterparts. I do hear stories of bear and cougar attacks every summer and nod. These animals know we are the enemy. They’ve seen us destroy their homes, clearcutting and pollution being the favored methods. They have watched us trap, poison, and shoot their kin. It’s open warfare.

What scares me is when the attacks come from an unexpected source — hoofed farm animals, for example.

I must admit, though, they were provoked. I had previously thought that inbreeding eliminated that wild eye for an eye, fang for a fang trait. Unfortunately, domestic animals have begun to show their true colors.

For example, in Manganeses de la Polvorosa, Spain, the villagers drop a goat from the church belfry to start a religious festival. My first reaction upon hearing this was, what religion thinks this is a good idea? Is this the Church of the Holy Splattered Ruminants? These people have bats in their belfry. Each year, (I’m not making this up), the townspeople toss a goat from the 14 meter high belfry, catch it in a tarp, and release it, suffering only from vertigo and a new mistrust of crowds. This feat begins the Festival of Saint Vincent, the town’s patron saint. He was famous for his works of charity, especially to the sick, old, and orphaned. He must have had a taste for kid pancakes.

Fortunately, local police force lept to the defense of the goat. Unfortunately, villagers refused to take this butting in. They attacked the police at the last festival, and the journalists for good measure. It seems the only one who walked away unharmed was the goat.

Another hoofed fellow didn’t fare as well. A Romanian farmer in December 1991 wanted to clean the skin from his slaughtered pig. He usually used a vacuum cleaner to inflate the pig and burn straw over the skin to remove the hair. Do you suppose that’s where they got the idea of the giant Miss Piggy as a parade balloon?

The farmer’s vacuum broke so he used bottled gas. The pig went whole hog on revenge, exploding and injuring the farmer who spent three days in the hospital. I wonder whether a man who ignites a gas-filled creature should be allowed to work with sharp garden tools.

This is the kind of behavior I might expect from animals who have been treated as nothing better than a vegetable for consumption. But I didn’t expect vengeance from man’s best friend.

Last winter in Moscow, Gennady Danilov, at the young age of 33, was shot by his dog. His dog got his hind legs caught in a trap while they were out hunting. When Danilov tried to free him, the animal struggled and made the rifle discharge.

So far, these acts of vengeance have not spread to North America. Perhaps they are still to come by the poor unfortunate animals we use and abuse. However, I live with three cats. I would never allow my children to toss them. I lock the felines in the basement whenever I am working with any flammable substances. No firearms are allowed on the premises. But deep down I know this is futile. When they study me with six gleaming yellow eyes, I try not to imagine what kind of revenge they are planning in return for the last trip to the vet.

Originally published in the Chronicle-Journal/Times-News

Sunday, June 14, 1992

What Did I Put in My Mouth? – Recycled Sundays

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After reading a particularly good article on contagious diseases, I provided separate bathroom cups, towels, and face cloths for my husband and myself. I made sure our toothbrushes were always different colors. The segregated cups and towels often fell by the wayside, but the idea of someone else accidentally using my toothbrush was more grotesque than sharing a Q-tip.

When my children arrived bathroom hygiene became trickier. The towel on the floor generally belong to my daughter and the scrunched up one behind the toilet was my son’s. Fortunately, their toothbrushes were smaller than mine, so when mix-up occurred, it was usually between them. Santa helped out by bringing brushes decorated with Muppets and Bugs Bunny cartoon characters. The problem now was who got radical Gonzo and you got stuck with silly Tweety. We muddled along, everyone attempting to keep their own germs. Everyone, that is, except Virgil.

Virgil is a cat. He was named after the chimpanzee in the movie Project X who caused all the trouble at the research lab. Virgil, the chimp, was charming, intelligent and strong willed. My Virgil is charming and strong-willed.

Like most cats, Virgil loves to swat dripping water. With two kids in the house, you can bet there’s always a leaking faucet somewhere. I learned to rinse out the sink and the bathtub before using them.

One day, as I worked on marking, I saw movement in my peripheral vision, (a woman with one husband, two kids, and three cats, and a classroom full of kids develops rabbit vision – able to see in 360°). Virgil slunk by and raced to the basement.

 

“Kids,” I called. “Virgil just got something in his mouth and the way he’s acting, I suspect he shouldn’t have it.”

Let the chase begin.

Gleeful screams of laughter, thumps and crashes followed.

“It’s a toothbrush!” my son squealed.

A snake twisted through my stomach.

“Take it away from him and throw it in the trash,” I shouted.

More gleeful screams of laughter, thumps and crashes.

After supper, I went to brush my teeth. As soon as I finished, I realized no toothbrushes were missing from the container. Four people, four toothbrushes.

I bellowed to my son, “Where is the toothbrush you took from Virgil?”

He smiled proudly and stated, “I got it back.”

“Which one was it?”

Innocent shrug. Yuck! Feeling like Lucy after Snoopy licked her lips, I gargled and rinsed and until my mouth stung. I explained to my son, yet again, the importance of listening to my entire instructions.

Last month we took Virgil to the vet for his yearly check up. He had the beginnings of gum disease.  The cat had to be put under anesthetic to have his teeth scraped. When we picked him up, we were given the dual enzyme cleansing system – a box of animal toothpaste and a tiny toothbrush with a few bristles shaped into a point. If we want to Virgil to stay healthy, we’re supposed to brush his teeth.

Right! I have enough trouble getting my kids to brush. How does a cat swish and spit? Of course, Virgil has no excuse to steal anyone else’s toothbrush now. He has his own red one. Then again, he’s colorblind. Perhaps I should get him one with a picture of Garfield. Now,of course, he doesn’t want anything to do with toothbrushes.

Let the chase begin.