Tag Archives: The Largest Rabbit

The Winter Hare – Book Launch 27th September 2018!

It’s taken a while but the sequel to The Largest Rabbit will be out on the 27th September and is now available to Pre-Order through our website HERE.  We are currently awaiting proof copies but have set a date and venue for the book launch – 27th September 2018 at the Greyhound Rescue Wales Shop on the Kingsway in Swansea, from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. (ish!).  Come along and meet the author, have your copy signed and dedicated and also meet Penny the Crafty Dog herself!  Here is the cover of the book – artwork by Allison Rees/Coppertop Crafts.

Celtic Magic, Winter Hare, Rubbish, Finn, Greyhound, Deerhound

The Winter Hare

This book takes up the story after the Christmas adventure which gave the Maid and the Butler the ability to understand the animals, and for Rubbish, Finn and Jeffrey to be understood by humans too.  It is a cold winter that does not seem to end, and there is thick snow on the ground.  The rabbits find huge footprints in the snow, with specks of red nearby.  Whose prints are they?  As they examine them, they are being watched by a small figure hiding at the edge of the trees.  Who is the mysterious Winter Hare?  In the fields not far away there are two hunters with guns and vicious dogs – are they after the Winter Hare?  Can Finn, Rubbish and Jeffrey protect the hare and get her safely home?  What will happen if she never gets home?  Will this winter ever end?

As all this is going on, deep underground something is stirring; a black and white army is gathering and preparing to march…

Finn, Deerhound, Deerhounds, Magig, Mighty Finn

The Mighty Finn

This is a tale of dark villains and hairy heroes; of ancient magic, bravery, and of a marmalade cat with attitude, arthritis,and more than a hint of anchovies! Once again, the Mighty Finn the deerhound and Rubbish the abandoned greyhound who now protects the rabbits are called on to rally the friends and try to save the day.  And Jeffrey the cat does his bit too!

It is a children’s book aimed at the 8-12 age group but like The Largest Rabbit it has proved popular with all ages (from 8-80 would really cover it!).  All sales through the webshop will generate a donation of £1 a copy for Greyhound Rescue Wales.

Rubbish the Rabbit Hound!

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Children’s Halloween Story – The Wychwood

Here is the new Halloween Story 2016 with characters from The Largest Rabbit book.  Tom, the youngest but bravest rabbit in the warren, is walking through the deepest and darkest part of the forest.  He knows he’s alone yet feels that someone is watching him.   Why is he there?   Who is cutting down trees?   Who’s living in the pretty cottage in the middle of the forest?  And what’s that overwhelming pong of pilchards and garlic?

The Wychwood

As Tom wandered further and deeper into the ancient wood it seemed to get darker and darker.  He stopped and turned, looking back along the path he had walked and it seemed to him that the brambles had started to grow across it.  It was ok, he told himself, he was a brave rabbit.  He couldn’t go back – he would have to go on.  Forward he trotted, whistling a tune to keep his spirits up….perhaps spirits was the wrong word, considering he was in the old Wychwood and it was All Hallows Eve.  But, he told himself firmly, he was not afraid.           

The Wychwood Tree

There was a scream which made the little rabbit’s blood freeze and stopped him  in his tracks – it sounded like a Barn Owl!  They love to eat rabbits.  He held his breath – nothing happened.  He whistled a little bit quieter when he started again.  The path weaved between the trees, their creaking, scratching aged branches meeting overhead like brown bony arms.  He swore that he could almost make out faces in the bark of some of the older, gnarlier trunks.

The autumn storm that had blown through the woods a few days before must have blasted most of the leaves off, which left twiggy sticks that looked like talons – they reminded him of the owl.  Tom halted again and listened.  It was odd – there was not a sound, as if he was the only thing alive in the forest.  The air despite the seasonal cold was heavy and oppressive, like being smothered in a thick woollen blanket.

Something moved.  He was sure of it – away to his left.  He peered into the woody gloom.  No, it was nothing.  He told himself again that he was not afraid…..but he was a little bit wary.  Tom walked faster; the path must come out somewhere.  He tried to whistle again but his lips had gone dry.

There it was again!  Something was definitely over there to his left.  “Hello?” he called.  There was no reply.  He drew his torch out and shone it towards where he had seen the movement.   There was nothing apart from trees, brambles and a green hat.  What?  The hat was gone.  OK, the rabbit thought, I can either run away….or see what it is.  Is it safe to step off the path?  Tom drew himself to his full height (still only as big as a tiny rabbit on tip-toes) and strode firmly into the bushes.  He pushed through to where he thought he’d seen the hat.  When he got there he looked down – Tom was sure that he could make out footprints.  They were people prints but smaller.  He grinned to himself – there was someone here.  “OK, I know you’re here,” he announced, “You can show yourself.”

It remained still and silent for a while, then a clear voice said, “Good day young Master Rabbit.”  It came from behind him.  Tom turned slowly and there in front of him was a man but he was the size of a small human – a child he thought they were called.  He wore a green jacket, trousers and floppy hat, all trimmed with what looked like oak leaves.  His belt had an acorn on its buckle – even his long boots were the colour of autumn acorns.  His face was dark, and wrinkled, like it had seen many summers and winters, almost like the bark of a tree.  He smiled a kindly smile, as he bowed and took of his hat. “My name is Derwen,” he said.

Tom blushed (as he did not know how to bow) and he mumbled a “How do you do” adding, “My name’s Tom.”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the Wychwood on All Hallow’s Eve?” Derwen asked.

“I was following a butterfly along a path but the butterfly disappeared and there was no path behind me, only in front of me.  I’ kept walking as I think all paths that go into a wood have to come out somewhere.”

Derwen grinned, “A very logical thought, young sir.”

Tom couldn’t help it, “If you don’t mind me asking, Mr Derwen – what are you?”

“I am one of the woodland folk, what you would call a Jack in the Green.  It is our responsibility to look after all things that grow, especially in the forests and hedgerows.  I am here because I am concerned about something going on in the middle of the forest.  Someone has been chopping down trees or parts of trees.”

“That’s terrible,” the little rabbit replied.

“I am going there to put a stop to it – or at least find out what is going on,” he looked at Tom, “You’re a very brave rabbit – would you help?”

“Certainly,” he answered, unsure as to how much help he could be, but determined to do what he could.

“Come on then,” the Green Man said and they strode off down the path into the trees.  He was also whistling and though Tom didn’t know the tune, he found himself joining in.  Derwen drew a little silver flute from his pocket and played the tune that he had been whistling and as he did, the branches that had seemed to be leaning low over them in a rather threatening way lifted by a few metres, and let more light in – where they walked, the oppressive feeling of the forest seemed to change.

They continued for a while (Tom thought it was all really happy and exciting) until suddenly Derwen stopped playing, raised his finger to his lips for Tom to be quiet, and popping the flute in his pocket, slowly crept into the undergrowth.  Tom followed him, keeping close.  The jolly atmosphere had changed as they had reached the edge of a clearing in the trees.  From where they stood they could see that some trees had been hacked at and their lower branches ripped away.  There were piles of twigs and leaves scattered along the edge of the clearing.  In front of them were at least six large tree stumps, and the remains of what had once been oak, elm and ash trees, now just leaves, twigs, wood chips and sawdust.  Beyond that was a cottage.  A strange cottage of pink, blue black and green with a brown roof – Tom could swear that it looked like it was made of…sweets? (He remembered Bob bringing some into the warren once – he had found a bag of them dropped by a human child, which he shared round the young rabbits.)          

The strange cottage

   “Careful, wee rabbit.  This could be dangerous,” Derwen whispered.

As he spoke, the door to the cottage opened, and a human came out.  It was a grey-haired old lady in a cloak, so stooped over that she looked like a hoop.  She appeared ever so sweet and gentle.  Tom could feel himself smiling, and he even felt his feet lifting and starting to take him towards the lady.  Derwen held him by the shoulder, “Careful!” he hissed.  Tom stopped – what had made him move?  The Old woman stared across the clearing, over the fallen trees, into the gloomy undergrowth straight to where they were hiding.

“Is there anyone out there?” she called in a frail, crackling voice.  “I won’t hurt you.  Come into my lovely warm kitchen.”  She peered towards the rabbit and the Jack in the Green.  Could she see them?

She turned on her heel – very quickly, Tom thought, for someone so elderly, “No-one there.” The voice did not sound so crackly or frail either.  She unwound her stoop, standing straighter and taller as she stomped towards the doorway which closed behind her.

Derwen breathed out, as did Tom.  “Who’s that?” he asked.

“I thought as much.  We truly are in a dangerous spot.  That’s not a dear old lady, but one of the dark spirits from the caves to the north.  She is one of the winter witches.  It’s she that’s been cutting down the trees for firewood, probably for her cauldron.  They always have cauldrons,” he grinned at the rabbit.

“Why?” asked Tom, unsure as to what a cauldron was.

“To make up foul smelling potions – or else to cook their lunch in.”

Tom felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickling as he asked, “What do they eat?”

“Anything with meat in, usually but I believe they like rabbits best of all.”

Tom had the sudden urge to run away though he managed to resist it.

Derwen nudged the rabbit and grinned again, “Come on, I’m sure you’re up for an adventure!”  He stepped out of the bushes and keeping as low and as quiet as he could, he crept towards the cottage.  When he got to the building he looked for Tom; the rabbit was right behind him, also pressed tight against the wall.  Above them was the kitchen window – too high for either of them to see through.  “Climb on my shoulders and have a look,” Derwen told him so the rabbit scrambled up.  He peered through the Glass.  What he saw made him gasp.

In the middle of the kitchen was a huge fireplace, on which there stood a large black and greasy-looking cooking pot which he assumed was the cauldron Derwen had mentioned.  It was enormous – large enough for fifty rabbits!  Under it there were twigs, sticks and coal – obviously the makings of a fire to heat it up.  The witch was filling the cauldron with buckets of water which she carried from a large hand-pump on the far side of the kitchen.  In the centre of the floor was an equally enormous wooden table and it was this that had made him gasp; lying across the table, on his side, was a great hairy dog, fast asleep.  It was Finn!  He just lay there sleeping as around him the witch was heating water.  From a drawer she took out some boxes, from which she tipped some plants which she mixed, appeared to talk to, then throw into the cooking pot.  Magic herbs maybe?  She collected a bundle of carrots from a shelf and threw them into the pot too.  All the while she was singing and chanting (Tom couldn’t hear what).  The rabbit scanned around the rest of the room before he climbed down to tell the Jack in the Green.

Derwen shook his head slowly and asked the rabbit some further questions; “Did you see anyone else?  Any signs of other witches?  Was there a cat?”

Tom thought.” I couldn’t see anyone but the far side of the room was hidden by a large chair.  There wasn’t any sign of another witch.”

“We’ll need a diversion,” the Green Man mused.  “How much noise can you make?” He looked the rabbit up and….well, not up very far as he was a very short rabbit.

“More than you think,” Tom answered.

“OK, then here’s my plan,” he whispered his ideas.  As they conferred there was a rustle in the bushes.  Tom felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and Derwen reached for the small wooden club that he carried in his jacket.  From the undergrowth there was mumbling and some rude words and …the overpowering smell of fish – and garlic.  “It’s ok – I know who that is!” Tom beamed.  Out of the bushes fell a short fat ginger shape.  “Jeffrey!” Tom whispered.  The old marmalade cat stood up and waved. “Keep quiet!  There’s a witch!”

Jeffrey performed a silent “Aha!” and slinked (as slinky as a round cat could do) over to the low wall behind which the rabbit and the Jack in the Green were hiding.  Derwen looked at the strange figure that was shaking his hand enthusiastically though quietly.  Here stood a round ginger tom cat with an incredibly toothy smile, practically as broad as he was tall, wearing an old leather flying helmet goggles resting on his round head.  On his back he had a rucksack with various odd things poking out.  What Tom could not get over was the incredible smell of garlic that surrounded the old moggie almost like a cloud.  “How did you find us?” Tom asked.

The cat shook his head, “I wasn’t looking for you chaps – I’m looking for Finn.  It’s been a very strange day.”

Jeffrey outlined to the others what had happened that morning.  Finn had been a bit twitchy since breakfast and actually left some (unheard of).  He was really restless.  He said he had had some strange dreams in the night about an old lady in trouble.  After breakfast they had gone for a walk on the edge of the great wood and when they were walking they saw an old lady gathering kindling.  Finn had run over, and Jeffrey and Rubbish the greyhound had gone too.  The lady was ever so friendly and had offered the three friends a lovely breakfast in her cottage in the woods, if only they would help her carry the sticks that she was gathering for her fire.  Jeffrey was not built to carry, and Rubbish was too slight but Finn being Finn had offered to help.  They had walked into the woods together but as they walked the path got narrower and narrower so that they ended up walking single file.  At one point the undergrowth overhung the path.  The lady led Finn through this almost tunnel, and when Rubbish and Jeffrey went through – there was no-one on the other side.  Finn and the old woman had vanished!  The greyhound and the cat searched briefly but of Finn or the lady there was no sign.  Rubbish and Jeffrey had rushed home and told the Butler who told them that his father had spoken to him when he was a boy about an old lady in the woods who stole young animals that were never seen again.  She was a witch who visited the forest around Halloween every few years.  The Butler had thought it was a fairy story but realised now that it must have been true!  He had taken out the old Landrover and with Rubbish, Flower and some of the other animals they were searching the woods.  However, Jeffrey knew that he was facing something magical and evil so he had come prepared.  Creaking as he turned around, he untied the rucksack and showed the Green Man and the rabbit what he had brought with him,

“Have to be prepared, you know, never know what sort of evil you might encounter!”  Out of the rucksack came some sharpened bits of wood “Stakes in case of vampires,” he muttered, then a large crucifix “Ditto” he said.  From the pockets in his fur (they always amazed everyone) he pulled out handfuls of garlic bulbs “Ditto again”.  There was also a small slingshot and a pair of silver earrings, “In case of werewolves”, he explained.  “I’ve also got a small bottle of Holy Water.  That’s pretty good against most things.”

“Anything specifically for witches?” Derwen asked.

“Hmmm,” came the reply from Jeffrey, rummaging through the rucksack. “A Bible?”

“Should work,” confirmed the Green Man.

“Righto!  So, what do we do – a frontal assault?  Like El Alamein?” Jeffrey enquired enthusiastically.

“I did have a plan, but I think I now have a better one.  But it depends on how brave Tom can be,” Derwen and Jeffrey turned towards the little rabbit.

The Witch tested the water in the great cauldron; Yes, coming to the right temperature.  The carrots and the herbs (thyme, sage and parsley) were smelling nicely – really rustic.  All she needed now was some nice doggy meat to cook slowly in the stew.  She looked down at the enormous deerhound who lay snoring across the wooden table.  She couldn’t believe how gullible he’d been; she’d cast a spell in the night to find a likely dinner date and in her seeing-bowl she had found Finn.  He was so noble and kind – so easy to snare!  The witch gave him a poke in his thigh – oh, he was very meaty but also very soft and tender.  Lovely!  Now she would only need to cut him into chunks to drop into the pot.

Walking over towards the sink, she slid a large meat knife out of the knife-block.  It was heavy, and had obviously seen a lot of action over the years.  She slipped her calloused thumb along its 12 inches of cold metal.  Blast!  It was blunt!  She went in the drawer to take out a sharpening steel.  She began to draw the edge of the blade over the sharpener, and could see it getting sharper and sharper, keener and keener with every drag.  She raised it over the slumbering hound.  No, she told herself, don’t spoil the ship for a happor’th of tar…take time and make sure the knife is properly sharp.  Finn stirred slightly – the witch lifted the knife – but he slept on.  She whistled to herself and continued sharpening.  She stood to her full height now – she had looked like a bent over old woman outside but here in reality she was tall, strong, with thick silver grey hair that hung down her back.  She did have the usual witchly hooked nose with warts, and deep black eyes, as cold as the darkest night.  The water in the cooking pot popped – it was just coming to the boil.  Excellent! And just in time – the knife was now sharp enough too.

Then there was a knock on the door.  She growled, put the knife down and stooped down as she went to the door.  Turning the brass door handle, it creaked open and she peered out.  There was no-one there.  She was about to close the door when a voice below her made her look down, “Hello” said a little rabbit.  “Have you seen a big hairy dog called Finn?”  Tom smiled back up at her.

The Witch returned the smile to the lovely little, tender, sweet chunk of rabbit meat.  “Hello, little one, and what is your name?”

“My name’s Tom.  Please lady, have you seen Finn?”

“Why yes, he’s inside waiting for you.  He is my guest for dinner – maybe you would like to join him?”

“Yes please,” beamed the little rabbit.  All Tom could think was – blimey, isn’t she tall – and what an enormous warty nose!

“Please Miss, my friends are here too,” he said. “Can we wait for them?”

The Witch scowled.  More rabbits – ah well, they’d pack out the stew, “Where are they, my dear?”

“Outside – over there in the woods. They’re a bit shy.  Would you come over and say hello?”

The Witch was now growing to like the idea of rabbit as a starter so she allowed herself to follow him out across the grass.  As she walked she uncurled and got taller and taller until she got to the wall, where she stood and rose to her full height.  She glowered down at the little rabbit.

“I do hope that you’ve not been wasting my time, young Coney!”

As Tom had led the witch across the lawn, Derwen was creeping through the open doorway into the kitchen.  He found the sleeping Finn and climbed up onto the table where he stood over him and began to speak a spell to act against the Witch’s evil enchantment.  The Green Man is a woodland spirit, and has deep and ancient magic of his own.  He tried the first spell, but it didn’t raise Finn.  A second spell made the hound’s eyes quiver, so Derwen knew he was on the right track.  As he chanted the third spell, and crumbled a handful of oak leaves over Finn’s head two things happened.  He heard a scream from outside, and Finn opened his eyes wide.  “Hello,” the Lord of the Glen said.  “And to whom do I owe this honour?”

 

As the Witch grew to her height a ginger figure leapt upon the wall and faced her.  “Not so fast!” shouted the marmalade mousketeer.  The Witch took a step backwards in shock as she stared at Jeffrey.  She was astonished and was for the first time in her life, totally, speechless.  There in front of her stood a round ginger cat in a flying helmet, who peered back at her through goggles.  “Whatever are you?” she asked.

“I am your nemesis!” he replied.

“Fine words for a fat cat! “ she cackled.  “Well be quick – that smell of garlic is making my eyes water!”

“I have everything to defeat your evil ways!” Jeffrey announced as he reached into the rucksack that he’d placed by his feet.  Out came a crucifix which he waved in the Witch’s face.

“Sorry, that does nothing,” she replied.

“Ah, OK,” he rummaged in the bag again and brought out a stake and a mallet.

“I’d have to stand very still and even then, I don’t think that’d work – do you?”  She shook her head,

“Fair enough,” back in the rucksack he went.  “Bible?” he offered.  The Witch shook her head again.  “Silver earrings?”

“I usually wear gold, thank you,” she replied.

“Aha!  Holy Water!” Jeffrey declared.

The Witch stepped back.  “What?”  She looked worried.

Jeffrey was jubilant.  He pulled the glass bottle from the sack and waved it in front of her.  “Holy…” he stopped for a moment.

Tom was tapping him on the leg.  “It’s not Holy Water,” he whispered.

Jeffrey looked.  “Oh dear…” the cat read the bottle, “Wart Remover!”

The Witch screamed loudly with laughter and leaned forward with her long clawed fingers scrabbling to grab the Professor.  Jeffrey said to himself, “Ah well, here goes nothing,” and flung the bottle of wart remover into the Witch’s face.  She screamed and stopped for a second, then screeched with glee as the warts on her nose disappeared.

The Witch shrieked with laughter.  “Thank you, cat, I had been wanting to something about those!  Now cat – how would you prefer to die?”  She moved towards Jeffrey whose eyes closed inside his goggles.  He tensed for a moment.

The Witch screamed a scream of someone in indescribable pain.  Jeffrey opened an eyelid and was amazed at what he saw; the Witch was starting to smoke as the chemical in the wart remover got into her bloodstream.  She stood stock still, her arms dropped to her side and then she started shaking.  As Finn and Derwen ran out of the cottage towards them the Witch suddenly went “BANG!” – And vanished!  She was gone.

“Well bless my soul!” he said.

“Jeffrey to the rescue again, old friend!” Finn smiled as he got to Jeffrey.  The Lord of the Glen bowed to the cat, as did the Green Man.

Jeffrey beamed back, “Of course, had it all worked out!”

“What got her?” asked Derwen.  “Bible?”

Jeffrey blushed deep under his ginger fur, “I thought it was Holy Water – but I’d picked up the wrong bottle.  It was Wart Remover!”

Finn and the Green man laughed.  “As the Witch was made up of so much warty matter, it must have gone into her bloodstream and dissolved all of her.  Amazing!”

Tom clambered over the wall. “But we owe it all to the hero – step forward, Tom!” Derwen cried.  The rabbit smiled a huge smile which stretched from ear to ear.  He felt so proud.  “Young sir, I owe you my life,” Finn told him.  Tom blushed even more.

“Right! “Jeffrey smiled,  “Theres a cauldron in that kitchen with herbs in.  I wonder if anyone fancies some garlic stew?”

Tom held up a sharpened wooden spike, “What goes well with stake?”

Faces in the Bark
Faces in the Bark

Characters and story copyright Chris Dignam/Crafty Dog Cymru 2016.

The Christmas Story – How Rubbish the Rabbit Hound Saved Christmas – Download the whole story!

How Rubbish the Rabbit Hound Saved Christmas

The Whole Story!

Picture4We have had many requests to make the Christmas Story available to download – consider it a Christmas present from Crafty Dog Books!  It can be downloaded as a pdf file for you to read, already set out in book format.

 

Its free for you to download and share but not for publishing generally without our permission.  Click on the text below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas Story How Rubbish Saved Xmas C Dignam

The Christmas Story – How Rubbish the Rabbit Hound saved Christmas – Part 1

The plump man in the red suit groaned as he moved in his upturned seat. He shook snow from his beard and hat. He could hear mumbling and the odd swear word from his companions in English, Lapp and Reindeer. The sleigh was on its side where it had landed in the deep bushes. As he looked back he could see the path of destruction where he had flown through ploughing into the small trees and shrubbery and where they had bounced off a small mound before grinding to a halt where they now lay.
“Well Santa, that was not much of a landin’,” the small figure said as he climbed gingerly from inside an elder bush next to Santa. “And I’ve done me shoulder,” the elf pointed to his left arm with his right. He leaned towards Santa who gave it a twist and popped back in with a plop. That made the elf scowl even more.
Father Christmas tried with the elf’s help to get up onto his feet. His right leg, the one he was lying on, was not pointing the right way and was hurting a lot.
“Hmmph,” the Elf said, “looks broken to me.”
“Think you’re right,” Santa agreed. He could not get up so just tried to make himself comfortable. The miserable elf (whose name was Happy would you believe) wrapped a fur blanket round Santa and handed him a bottle of aspirin.
A hairy nose peered from over the front of the sleigh. “Ay up, how are you doin’ ’” said Prancer. Apart from a black eye he was ok.
“The others alright?” Santa asked. Prancer shook his head. “Blitzen has a concussion and Rudolph a broken nose. It’s even redder than normal,” the reindeer added.
Happy huffed loudly. “Damage check,” he called out. There were replies of “Bruised”, “Bumped” “Twisted ankles” and “Broke an antler” from the reindeer who shook themselves out of the snow. “Where’s Trevor?” asked Happy.
“Up a tree,” Prancer pointed with a bruised hoof to where a gnome dangled from a small tree by his braces. Happy and Dancer went over and coaxed the little elf from the tree who landed in a clump of snow. “I’ve broken a rib,” he squeaked (a strange high pitched voice even for a Gnome). As he spoke his bushy beard trembled.
“All in all”, said Santa,” It could have been a lot worse.”
Happy huffed again, “What do you mean – its 3 days to Christmas, you’ve written off the sleigh, got a broken leg, we’re two reindeer down, and our Santa Nav (that was Trevor’s job) is also unworkable.”
The fat man frowned. “Well putting it that way, we’re in a bit of a pickle.”
Rudolph stuck his head from the bushes, “’Ew could say that,” he replied very nasally, holding a hanky to his very red bloody nose.

 

Rubbish, Largest Rabbit, Greyhound, Brindle

Rubbish the Rabbit Hound. Looks suspiciously like a brindle coloured greyhound….

Rubbish and Scutter had been looking for berries when they first saw (and heard) the strange something flying across the sky towards them. They could make out some of the shapes including a large man in red and two other figures shouting. They appeared to be wrestling and pulling at the thing they were riding, it had flown over their heads and further into the forest. Rubbish’s eyes nearly popped out of his head with amazement as it had shot past. Scutter had ducked even though it had been at over tree height. They had heard the shouting, and then a loud crash as it had come to the ground.

“Wow,” Scutter said. “What was that?”
Rubbish smiled and, scooping the rabbit up onto his back shouted, “Let’s go and find out”. With that he ran along the snowy path into the woods, following the trail of fallen twigs and branches and bits of broken flying machine. After a short while they came upon the scene of destruction. They could see the fat man on his side, the two little people and the funny dogs with antlers.
“Can we help?” Rubbish asked coming carefully across to the gentleman. He looked very familiar but Rubbish could not think from where.
“Thank you, Rubbish,” he said. “I’m a bit stuck here. Broken leg and some of the reindeer are also injured.”
Rubbish was surprised. How did the man in red know who he was?
“Is that Scutter with you?” Santa asked. Scutter nodded in reply, also amazed that he knew who he was.
“How do you know us?” the astonished rabbit-hound asked.
“I know all of you. And that you have been a bit naughty, young Scutter, but mostly nice,” in spite of the pain he was in, Santa smiled.
Rubbish recognised the old man – he was the same as on the cards that the Maid and the Butler put on the mantelpiece at Christmas. “Excuse me sir, but are you Father Claus?”
Santa nodded. “Can you get us some help?”
Rubbish thought for a second and then replied, “I’ll go get Finn and maybe the Maid and Butler who can help get you and the reindeer out.”
Happy coughed loudly, “Not a good idea, involving humans.”
Rubbish looked curious, “Why not?”
“They are not to be trusted, and they don’t believe in Father Christmas,” the grumpy elf replied.
At that Rubbish shook his head, “You can trust the Maid and Butler. They are not like the rest of the People. They are good.”
Santa agreed, “Yes, they are. OK young Rubbish, you may go and get them.”
The reindeer had begun to unclip themselves from their harnesses now and were gathering around the sleigh, apart from Blitzen who was still bit dazed from the bump on his head.
Rubbish turned to head back to the garden.
“I’ll stay and help,” Scutter told him. I can try and get Mr Santa comfortable and get some moss to stop that deer’s nose bleeding.”
“OK called Rubbish as he sped off, “I’ll get help!”
From where Santa lay he could see the greyhound give a stretch and fly off into the woods.
“Ooh, I’m cold” squeaked Trevor.
“Shurrup,” grumbled Happy. With that there was a shlumping sound and a dollop of snow slid from a branch above and landed solidly on his head. ”Thanks for that!”

Finn lay on his chaise longue (an old settee he had made his own) in the conservatory. There was Beethoven on the CD player and the old deerhound was chilling out nicely. He lay there, his shaggy grey coat making him look like a very relaxed old rug that had been laid out over the settee. If it weren’t for the occasional snore you would have been excused for not realising he was alive at all!

“What ho!” a distinctive voice full of polished rounded vowels called, making Finn raise his head. The smell of bad breath, liniment and tuna had already given Finn the clue that it was Jeffery. In walked, joints creaking as he did so, the ancient marmalade cat. “Another wonderful day, old boy!”
Finn stirred. “Morning Jeffery,” he murmured sleepily. “Pull up a chair.”
There was a bit of puffing and wheezing as the old cat clambered up onto the armchair next to the dog.
“Rubbish about?” Jeffrey enquired.
“Out with the rabbits,” Finn answered.

marmalade cat, mighty Finn, Lord of the Glen, The Largest Rabbit

The Mighty Finn and Jeffrey the ancient marmalade cat

These were the three musketeers, the Mighty Finn, the great big hairy deerhound, wise and as gentle as he was strong, Jeffrey the ancient marmalade cat, as brave as a lion but as creaky as a very worn old door, and Rubbish the greyhound, the largest rabbit in the woods. Rubbish had been abandoned and found by the rabbits as a small brindle-coloured puppy and had grown up thinking he was a rabbit as did they. When the rabbits asked his name, he said it must be Rubbish, as that’s what the people who threw him out had called him. Only after he met Finn did Rubbish discover he was in fact a greyhound, and together they had rescued the rabbits from the clutches of an evil old fox and his weaselly villains. Rubbish was declared to be a Rabbit hound and they protected the warren and the other animals in the forest from harm.
“He left a while ago to pick berries with Scutter. They were meeting Bramble and Daisy I think.” These were two of the youngest rabbits who followed Rubbish around adoringly. Jeffrey called them his fan club!
As they sat there, the old friends just enjoying each other’s quiet company (apart from the cat’s wheezing) there was suddenly a flash of activity across the garden. The old green door swung open and a brindle greyhound sped down the red brick path towards them. Finn sat up and Jeffrey clicked upright too. Rubbish skidded to a halt in the doorway.
“Mr Finn, Mr Finn! There’s been an accident. Its Father Claus and the deers, and some elves, he’s broken a leg, the sledge too and things. You gotta come quick!”
Finn shook his head, “Young pup, slow down, take a deep breath and start again.”
The greyhound did indeed take a very deep breath and began to explain all he had seen. Finn and Jeffrey took everything in and exchanged some quick words. “OK. I will get the Maid. Jeffrey, you go back with Rubbish and I shall organise transport and medical help.” Jeffrey reached into a pocket in his fur and pulled out an armband with a red cross on it, “No problem Old Chap – I have my scouting First Aid badge!”
“Rubbish – I’ll meet you at the gate. I’ll just pop home to get my first aid kit.” The moggie trotted out the door and through a gap into the garden next door. By the time Rubbish had taken some more orders from Finn and walked to the garden gate Jeffrey was there with an old leather first aid kit. Jeffrey climbed onto the greyhound’s back and they trotted off down the path back towards the sleigh.

Finn sighed, “OK, here goes. How do I get them to understand me? Lassie time again!” He slid off the settee and walked into the kitchen. The Maid was busy baking and the Butler sat at the table reading the paper whilst waiting expectantly for a Welshcake to come his way.
“Excuse me, you two,” Finn called. They turned towards him. “Just wondered, could we get out the Landrover and take a spin into the woods? Been a bit of an accident and we need transport.”
“Aw,” said the Butler, “He wants a cake! Sorry Finn, they aren’t really for dogs but I’ll see what I can do.”
The Maid smiled and threw him a piece of broken Welshcake that had been cooling on the side. Finn sighed and shook his head, “That’s the problem with me speaking dog and them speaking human. They can be so dim.” He did eat the piece of cake, (well, it was the polite thing to do).
Pantomime time. Finn spun around to get their full attention and did an impression of Father Christmas, a sleigh, then lay on his back waving his paw in the air in a broken and painful way.
“Aw, he’s so clever,” the Butler said. Finn just rolled his eyes. “They really are thick,” he muttered to himself.
It was the Maid who got it, “He wants something,” she said. Finn nodded. “Do you want us to follow you?” Finn nodded again, and then nudged the keys on the hook by the back door. “The Landrover?”
Finn barked. The humans scrambled about to get themselves sorted and within a few minutes they were sitting in the Landrover outside. Finn sat in the passenger seat, the Maid behind and the Butler driving.
“OK, now where,” the Butler asked. Finn barked, “Follow me,” and pointed his paw towards the track leading into the woods.
“Better go where he’s pointing,” the Maid said. So off they drove, two bemused people with a deerhound navigating.

In the forest Happy and Trevor had despite their injuries, managed to get the reindeer together and, using harness as a rope had pulled the sleigh upright. Santa had managed to get clear and was now propped against a tree and looking down at his mangled leg. The magic aspirin provided by the Elf Service was working and he could not feel any pain. Even when Donner (lovely girl, for a Reindeer, bit a bit dim and clumsy) had slid on the snow and fallen over him. Trevor was really concerned that it was so close to the big night and now the Big Man was injured.
“I’ll be ok,” he kept reassuring the others. “I’ll take a few aspirin.”
Happy grumbled, “Don’t be daft! Driving a sleigh whilst under the influence… Not a chance.”
Rubbish and Jeffrey bounced into the clearing, the old cat rolling off and popping up in front of Father Christmas.
“Well bless my soul,” the ginger moggie exclaimed. “Father Christmas himself!”
Santa grinned broadly, “Ah, Mr Jeffrey Jeffrey himself!”
The cat was immensely pleased that the man in red had known his full name. “It is indeed, sir. Now what can we do to help? I have bandages!”
“Bye dose is beeding,” a muffled reindeer voice announced. It was Rudolph with his dripping red nose. Jeffrey went over and unwrapping what seemed like a mile of bandage, found a pad which he applied to the reindeer’s nose. The bleeding soon stopped but it was clear that the reindeer’s nose was broken.
“You won’t be doing any directing,” muttered the happy elf.
Rubbish looked around. “Santa, Finn is on his way, and the Maid and the Butler. They don’t speak animal but you might be able to understand them. They’ll get you back on your feet,” then Rubbish saw the twisted leg. “Or maybe not…”
They could hear the sound of an engine coming, the rough diesel rumbling and crunch of snow and twigs being crushed under wheels. In a few minutes the old green Landrover appeared and made its way up the track.
As Finn guided the Landrover through the snow along the track the Butler and Maid had been amazed by the long line of destruction, with the broken branches and bits of wood from the sleigh, “Whatever happened here?” the Butler asked his wife.
The Maid shook her head, “I’ve no idea but I’d guess it was a small plane. It was incredible that Finn knew and also knew to fetch us.”
Finn grinned. “He’s a clever old boy,” the Maid added, ruffling his head.
There was a low mound ahead and the Landrover climbed it and then dropped into a clearing where the sight made the two humans swear (in an incredulous way). They could not believe their eyes, for in front was a battered sleigh, two little people in what appeared to be fancy dress, five reindeer (one with a bandaged nose) and under a tree next to Rubbish, lay Father Christmas. Or rather someone dressed like him, but with a broken leg.
The Maid stepped out first, and then Finn trotted over to Santa. The Butler came last.
“Oh thank you so very much, Kath, and you Sam. You’re so very kind for helping me,” Santa smiled.
Both Maid and Butler were surprised to hear the old man use their names – they didn’t know him did they?
“What happened?” the Butler asked.
The Maid went across to gather the reindeer and check the one with the broken nose. Jeffrey had bandaged it expertly.
“Test flight of the new sleigh, “Santa explained. “Went really well until we hit turbulence. “
Happy called over from where he stood by the sleigh, “Looks like a duck hit us.” There was a small clump of feathers where a very large bird had clipped the sleigh.
The Butler thought that as hoaxes or tricks went, this was a really good one.
“Looks very realistic,” he told Santa. “The guys at the pub put you up to this?”
Kath was stroking the reindeer who looked remarkably lifelike and real to her, “Sam…?” she replied.
Santa laughed. Finn shook his head and tutted.
“Here, Sam, as sensible as ever. Let me prove to you who I am.” Santa closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath.
Finn looked at the Butler.
“Well?” Sam asked.
Santa smiled. “Just wait,” he answered.
“I don’t see anything old chap,” a voice said.
Sam turned to face Finn, “D..did you just say something Finn?”
Finn looked at Sam, “Yes old chap, as usual. I say a lot but you never understand me,” he said.
“You’re speaking English,” Kath added.
“No, we’re speaking animal,” a younger voice piped in. It was Rubbish.
“How can we understand you?” the two humans were amazed.
“I have given you the gift, as a thank you for helping us. And it will also make things a lot easier to organise if we can all understand each other,” the man in the red suit added. “And it may help make you believe that I am who I say I am.”
It was hard for the Maid and the Butler to believe that this really was Father Christmas, that they were helping with the real flying reindeer and that almost as amazing, their Finn and little Rubbish could talk, and the old cat Jeffrey, who seemed to have an opinion about everything.
“I wouldn’t lift him like that old boy, “Jeffrey said as the Butler got under Santa’s right arm and the Maid under his left. They carefully walked Santa to the Landrover.
“We’ll get you back to our house,” Kath told Santa, “I can look at your leg there and get a doctor,” Santa shook his head at his suggestion, “and we can get the reindeer sorted too.”
“They can rest in the barn,” Finn said.
“Okay,” Santa agreed.
“What about the sleigh?” asked Rubbish.
“I’ll bring a tow rope and drag it back to the farm,” the Butler said. “We’ll take a look at it there and try and sort it out.” He was not so sure about that though – he had no experience of magic machines. Diesel engines he could do, flying sleighs would be a bit trickier.
The reindeer climbed up (some rather gingerly) onto the flat back of the Landrover. Happy and Trevor climbed in with the humans and Santa. Jeffrey sat amongst the deer, Rubbish and Finn trotted home. They were back at the garden before the Landrover and the casualties. They were all unloaded and everyone given a bed, mattress or patch of straw for the night.

  • Will Santa be able to get the presents out?
  • Will Santa even be able to get into his sleigh?
  • Will Christmas have to be postponed?
  • Read Part 2 next week!

 

If you want to read more about Rubbish the Rabbit Hound, and how he became the Largest Rabbit, look out for the book “The Largest Rabbit” available from the Crafty-Dog-Cymru.co.uk website.

All characters copyright Chris Dignam/Crafty Dog Books Cymru, except for The Mighty Finn copyright Kate Standing/World of Finn.

Illustrations copyright Jacs Little Welsh Studio/Crafty Dog Books Cymru

Greyt Expectations 8 – This Weeks South Wales Evening Post Blog – How the Largest Rabbit Escaped into Print!

Getting it Write – from a Rescued Greyhound to the Largest Rabbit

Last week I wrote about how we got our first book to the printers. We pick up the story after the first boxes arrived and we realised we had to sell them to make our money back.

We plugged the book on our Facebook pages which helped, and then we went round the bookshops with bundles of books. Bookshops these days are either massive conglomerates or small shops that are often living hand to mouth. One bookshop purchased some copies outright but most would only take them on a sale or return basis. The large conglomerates were not easy to approach as their local outlets all told us to contact their central office or go through their main buyers. The same applied to pet stores where small ones took copies but the large ones had to refer us to head office which proved to be a roadblock. Either way, being a small publisher is hard. We had no money to advertise the books yet we still needed to get our name out there.

Penny, Armelle and I - Copyright South Wales Evening Post.

Penny, Armelle and I – Copyright South Wales Evening Post.

Animal – especially Greyhound – charities were really helpful, especially Greyhound Rescue Wales, who all sell the book and get a donation themselves, so it benefits everyone. As before, the larger animal charities (whose catalogues are managed by external sales and marketing companies, usually the same one) were very polite but nothing panned out that way. As our name got out, more people approached us about the book and so the number of outlets grew. We offered copies as raffle/competition prize, which was again publicity which also helped charities. We were even approached by an Irish dog charity from Donegal for copies. All reasonable requests accepted!

The book sold at craft fairs, and at library readings too. Local libraries were keen to have a local author visit but neighbouring local authorities were a dead end. Swansea Libraries even purchased copies for their stock. Gradually the books began to sell as our name and reputation grew.

Collecting the money from some of the bookshops proved difficult; one sold them on e-bay then refused to pay us (and never did) and others require a fair bit of prompting. (I must say that Cover to Cover in Oystermouth have been brilliant and an example of how things should be done). Part of the problem is that your books are swallowed up in a sea of other books and without any publicity material or, better still, a book signing/meet and greet your books will be almost invisible.

On the way home from work one evening I had an idea for a character and a new book, this time for children. It had a few twists in the plot to keep it fresh, so within a few days I had sketched out the story and began writing it. The Largest Rabbit just flew off the page. I needed a specific character to fill a role and there was a fabulous deerhound called Finn owned by a friend of ours in Ireland who I thought would fit the bill. So, with Kate’s approval, the Mighty Finn went into the book. I also added a heroic comic character called Jeffrey, an ancient marmalade cat who was my favourite and the most fun to write. After discussions with my business manager, we stumped up the cash and decided to put the book out again ourselves, under the Crafty Dog Books Cymru label. Once more, Jackie did our illustrations, but extra this time as we needed drawings for inside the book.

How did we know that the children it was aimed at would like it? A friend of ours is a deputy head at a primary school so I asked her if some of the guys there would like to read it. Jill replied by asking whether I would like to go and read excerpts at the school. It was a great idea – take Penny, introduce the children to a rescue greyhound, and read some of the book to see what they thought of the characters and the story. We need not have worried, the kids thought it was fabulous and it went down a storm. They were really entranced and it was great to see the way in which they really enjoyed the story and loved the characters. That convinced us that it was worth printing the book, and we could even include some illustrations the children had drawn after the reading.

Brindle Greyhound, Largest Rabbit, Greyhound,

The Adventures of the Strangest Rabbit You Ever Did See!

We were even more excited when we collected the boxes of The Largest Rabbit from the printers in Pontypool. Honestly, the books really took off. Facebook interest was great, and many who had ordered the first book ordered the new one too. Kate Clarke did an article about us and The Largest Rabbit in the South Wales Evening Post and the next week someone shared the link with a greyhound rescue site in the U.S.. We suddenly had orders coming in from across the states! For a week things went nuts – we thought the Crafty-Dog-Cymru.Co UK website would melt – but eventually calmed down again.

Our Crafty Dog Cymru website and webshop have proved very successful; as have the greyhound charities again – Greyhound Rescue Wales even have Chris Dignam Books as a category on their shop! Within 4 months we have even had to begin planning a reprint and the Largest Rabbit has already paid for itself.

If anyone wants a book reading at a school or Library or other group, pop us an e-mail. The only stipulation is that you have to purchase a copy of the book and Penny usually comes along! She is very well behaved though I can’t comment about the rest of us Crafty Dogs…

The Largest Rabbit at Sketty Library!

Come and meet Penny the Crafty Dog and Hear about Rubbish the Rabbithound!

Thursday afternoon next week 31st July, Penny the Crafty Dog will be visiting Sketty Library with Chris Dignam for a book reading of “The Largest Rabbit”.  Not only will you be able to meet Penny, but you will also be able to meet the wonderful chracters in the book; Scvutter and Bownie and the rabbits, the mighty Finn the Scottish Deerhound, Jeffery the ancient marmalade cat and of course Rubbish the largest rabbit of the title.  Meet these heroes, and also the villains of the book, and maybe get a signed copy too!  The library is also running a reading competition.

Anyone wanting any further information, check the Sketty Library page on the City and County of Swansea website, or ring the Library for more information.  We look forward to seeing you all there!

greyt  fair 5

The Largest Rabbit – Visit to Ystalyfera School

On Friday this week, Penny will be coming with us to Ysgol Golwg y Cwm in Ystradgynlais.  They have invited us up to talk about greyhound rescue, abd also to read some extracts from “The Largest Rabbit”.  It’s great fun reading to the guys as they become so involved.

We are all looking forward to it immensely!

The Adventures of the Strangest Rabbit You Have Ever Seen!

The Adventures of the Strangest Rabbit You Ever Did See!