Puddles (right) hopes for valentines. (Photo courtesy Katherine Dunn)
“Mrs. Dunn! We need more red paper and paint!” said Pickles.
“And glue!” said Puddles.
I was minding my own business, stacking some firewood near the barn.
Glue, I thought. Heaven, if you’re listening, please help us.
The last time glue was used by the barnyard it involved glitter and cotton balls. They were trying to make a float for the Fourth of July parade. Pickles managed to glue herself to Puddles.
I entered the barnyard to find a bunch of busy goofballs, ripping up red paper.
“It would be a lot better if we had scissors,” said little Hannah.
“You know there is a no-scissor rule in the barn,” I said, which was followed by lots of sighs and eye rolling.
Puddles appeared with some cardboard and old boxes.
“I’m in charge of making everyone their own valentine mailbox,” he said proudly. “I sure hope I get some valentines this year,” he said, as everyone grew quiet, still carrying on with their work.
Last year, it was an upsetting Valentine’s Day party for Puddles. He only had one valentine, from Earnest the pig. Earnest never leaves anyone out. But you see, Puddles is a bit of a bully, and his valentine box was not stuffed full of red hearts like everyone else.
“When I was in kindergarten, each child got a valentine from everybody,” I said loudly, trying to make a point.
“You were in kindergarten, Mrs. Dunn?” asked little Hannah in amazement. “Did you know George Washington?”
“Only in paintings,” I said.
“The point is, you should share valentines with everyone, so nobody gets hurt feelings,” I said.
Days later, Puddles excitingly ran up to me, “All the valentine boxes are done now, Mrs. Dunn!” I followed him to the barn to see all his ramshackle little boxes sitting about the barn, each with a name of one of the animals.
“You did a fine job, Puddles,” I said, and I tried to give him a hug, but he rolled his eyes and ran off.
The morning of love had arrived. When I got to the barn, everyone was excitedly opening their valentine boxes.
“Thank you for the card, Earnest,” Puddles said, and he tossed his box to the ground and headed outside.
Suddenly, everyone grew quiet.
“I think somebody is very hurt,” I said. “Now what are we going to do about it?”
Little Hannah started to cry, “I shouldn’t have eaten so many of them!”
“You ate some of his valentines?” Earnest the pig asked.
“Yes, they were made from the paper that held the cracked corn, especially delicious!” she said.
“Exactly how many did you consume?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” and she stretched her arms out about 6 inches, “this many!”
Solemnly, we all walked over to Puddles. I poked Hannah.
“Your valentines were delicious, Puddles,” said Hannah.
“You mean there were valentines in my box?” asked Puddles.
“Thousands!” said Hannah.
I was able to give a quick hug to Puddles, and I whispered in his ear, “I love you, Puddles.”
“Oh geez, Mrs. Dunn,” and he ran off.
And then everyone followed him, singing, “Puddles and Mrs. Dunn, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”
(Katherine Dunn, of Apifera Farm in Bremen, is an artist and writer. Apifera, a nonprofit, takes in elderly and special-needs animals and shares them with elder people. Learn more at katherinedunn.us.)
