Taffy and Skippy: The Story of a Girl Who Paid the Pound

One morning, Marie Moyer’s twin poodles escaped into the neighbor’s garden. Marie was sure that old Mrs. Carter would call the pound. The dogs dug so hard in the ground that the dirt flew over the fence. Tulips popped out of the mulch like flying hats. 

“TAFFY! SKIPPY!” shouted seven-year-old Marie Moyer, racing after them. She made them sit beside the hole while she apologized to the neighbor. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Carter.”

“This better not happen again,” Mrs. Maybeline Carter said, the screen door banging shut behind her. Her mint green and cream home had perfectly trimmed hedges. “If those dogs get into any more mischief, I’m calling Mr. Higgins with the Dog Pound van.”

Marie could spot the Dog Pound van anywhere. It was big and gray, with peeling letters on the side that said DOG POUND. Its back doors rattled when it stopped, and metal cages clanked inside like they were full of secrets. The man who drove it wore a cap and carried a long net over his shoulder. Marie avoided that vehicle at all costs. 

Despite her best efforts, the very next day, the twins wriggled free and charged into the street, barking at a passing bus. Cars honked, and Marie grabbed their leashes just in time.

“No more walking without rules,” Marie said firmly, tying the leashes extra short.

But even that didn’t stop them. When the mailman came, Taffy snatched an envelope, and Skippy chewed it to pieces before Marie could blink.

Marie made the poodles sit on the porch while she taped the letter back together. She sighed, shook her head, and said, “You are the naughtiest dogs in town.”

She still loved them anyway, both the same amount. Taffy had curly black fur and seemed to think he was the cuter one, while Skippy had fluffy white fur.

“Sit!” Marie would say to the twins, who stood in defiance of her instructions. 

She hoped that they would soon learn to obey her commands. Obedience school was expensive, but she considered that she might have to find a way to pay the tuition. 

Every time she washed their fluffy coats, she gave them tasty dog food and even human food to keep them calm, but they made such a mess in the bathtub that it almost was not worth it. 

Then, one day, when she was walking them around the block, they pulled so hard that the leather leashes flew from Marie’s hands.

Since Taffy and Skippy were faster than Marie, she couldn’t catch them on foot. The dogs dug under a white picket fence and ran off into downtown.

“Oh no!” Marie cried, grabbing her red bicycle with a metal bell and wide white tires, and pedaling after her twin poodles. 

A radio hummed from an open window as Marie pedaled past. Her dress fluttered as she went faster. 

“Stop!” she yelled at the poodles as they almost got hit by a boxy car with rounded fenders. Its chrome bumper gleamed in the sun. Behind it, a milk truck rattled down the street across the painted crosswalks.

Marie pedaled as fast as she could, only to hear the siren from the Dog Pound van. She watched in fear as Mr. Higgins descended from the driver’s seat with his net.

“Wait!” Marie said. “My poodles! Don’t take them! Stop! The leashes slipped from my hand! I’m sorry!”

Before Marie could get to her dogs, Mr. Higgins caught the poodles with his net and scooped them up. 

“These two are coming with me,” Mr. Higgins said. He threw the poodles in the back of his van, slammed the door shut, and drove off. 

Marie felt like sobbing. 

She wished she had found a way to pay for obedience school after all.

“Now I have to pay the pound!” Marie said, pedaling back to her home to get her piggy bank. When Marie arrived at her house, she grabbed a hammer from her dad’s workbench. She took it into her bedroom and slammed it on the top of her piggy bank. 

The piggy bank fell apart into many pieces and out came $23.00. She shoved the money into her pocket and pedaled to the Dog Pound as fast as she could. When she got to the Dog Pound, a crooked sign hung on the wall saying: “$12.50 per Dog.”

She counted her money again. Twenty-three dollars—two dollars short.

“I need two dollars fast!” Marie said, scratching her head and wondering where to get the money. “The Tooth Fairy to the rescue!” Marie said, remembering how the Tooth Fairy brings one dollar a tooth. “The good news is that I have a few loose teeth!”

When she got back to her house, she threw her bike on the driveway and ran into the bathroom. She wiggled her two front teeth as hard as she could, back-and-forth and back-and-forth. When she finally got the teeth free from her mouth, she ran to her dad and smiled. 

“What happened to your teeth?” he said, holding her face with shock. 

“I have to get Taffy and Skippy from the pound!” Marie said, showing her dad her teeth.

“Why didn’t you just ask me for the money?” the father said, staring at her toothless smile.

“I thought I’d ask the Tooth Fairy,” Marie said. “He pays a dollar a tooth.”

“The Tooth Fairy!” the father said. “Here’s $25. Go get those crazy poodles!”

Marie looked at her front teeth in her hand and felt silly for pulling them out. 

“Thanks Dad,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I should have asked you first.”

Marie ran out the front door with her father’s money to get Taffy and Skippy from the Pound. She hoped people would understand why she was missing her front teeth when she smiled so big. Surely someone must have asked the Tooth Fairy for money in emergencies other than Marie.

When she got to the pound, her poodles were howling at the top of their lungs. 

“Your dogs are so out of hand that I’m almost considering giving you $25 to take them away from here,” Mr. Higgins said, “but that would be breaking the rules.”

“Don’t worry, my father gave me the money to get the dogs back,” Marie said with a smile. She grinned so big that her missing teeth made a huge gap in her mouth. 

“What happened to your teeth?” Mr. Higgins said. Even Taffy and Skippy were quiet for a moment. 

“I was desperate for my dogs,” Marie said. “I was going to put my teeth under my pillow for the Tooth Fairy to give me money. My dad decided that was a crazy plan.”

Shaking his head, Mr. Higgins took the $25 from Marie. He counted the bills carefully, then folded them into his pocket.

“I could really make a lot of money off of you and your dogs,” Mr. Higgins said.

Mr. Higgins shook his head and unlocked the cage.

“Next time,” he said, “try asking your father before the Tooth Fairy.”

“Yes, sir,” Marie said, as her dogs ran into her arms. “I need to keep my teeth—especially if I’m going to train these two.”

Taffy and Skippy pressed against Marie’s legs and, for once, didn’t wriggle or pull away. Their tails wagged slowly, as if they knew they had caused trouble.

“Sit,” Marie said softly. To her surprise, both poodles sat. Marie hugged Taffy and Skippy tight. 

“We’re going to do better,” she whispered. 

The poodles wagged their tails, as if they agreed. Their fur smelled like the Dog Pound, but Marie didn’t care.

As Marie led the poodles home, she waved at Mrs. Carter, who paused mid-hedge-trimming and nodded once. Marie ran into her kitchen with the dogs close at her heels. 

A ticking clock chimed on the wall. She had a sneaky suspicion that she might need more help than obedience school to charm her dogs. 

 

Copyright 2015 Jennifer Waters

Dedicated to my mother, Darlene Waters, and her dogs Taffy and Skippy.

LOGLINE

When a seven-year-old girl’s mischievous twin poodles land in the Dog Pound, she hatches a wildly impractical plan to rescue them—learning that loving your pets means taking responsibility and knowing when to ask for help.

 

PITCH

Seven-year-old Marie Moyer loves her twin poodles, Taffy and Skippy—but the mischievous pair can’t seem to stay out of trouble. After destroying a neighbor’s garden, dodging traffic, and chewing up the mail, the poodles finally push their luck too far and are scooped up by the Dog Pound. Desperate to get them back, Marie smashes her piggy bank, only to discover she’s two dollars short of the fee. Convinced she’s found the perfect solution, Marie turns to the Tooth Fairy—until her father steps in with a wiser plan. When Marie finally reunites with her dogs, she realizes that loving pets means more than rescuing them—it means learning how to care for them responsibly, together.

The Sandbox Giant: The Story of a Sister and Brother Who Wanted to Build Castles

Once there was a sister and brother named Debbie and Billy who loved to play in the sandbox their father built in the backyard. Debbie loved her brother more than anyone in the world. On most afternoons in Willow Hollow, Virginia, sunlight spilled over the grass, and the little wooden sandbox rested beneath the shade of an apple tree. The sand glimmered like tiny dunes as they built castles and sculptures with their shovels and pails.

Even if he played pranks on her and put sand in her hair, she always protected him from bullies in the neighborhood. She knew he was safe with her when they played in the sandbox together. Anytime Debbie built something that collapsed, Billy helped her rebuild it. 

One dark night, a thunderstorm came that was worse than any other thunderstorm. It shook the house, and the lights went out; there was no electricity for hours. Their parents, Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher, lit candles and placed them around the house. After blowing out the candles, the mother told the children: “We should go to sleep early tonight. The sun will show its face tomorrow.”

“I’ll try to sleep,” eight-year-old Debbie said. She crawled into bed and counted backward from one hundred. Even though her brother tried to go to sleep, he was too scared by the storm to rest. He cuddled up on the couch with his stuffed animals and a blanket. 

The storm raged outside Debbie’s window, lightning cracking again. She couldn’t stand the thunder anymore. The windows rattled. Barefoot, she ran down the hall to wake her brother on the couch. 

“Something’s not right! What should we do?” she said to Billy, who was two years younger than she was.

“What? It’s only a storm. Go back to your room,” he said, squashing his pillow into her. As lightning struck, he shook in fear and rolled over on the couch. He pulled his blanket over his head. She realized he was just as scared as she was. 

So, Debbie walked back to her room with goosebumps and climbed back into her bed. She wished the storm would end. When morning finally came, sunlight poured through her curtains. The storm was gone — the world sparkled as if nothing had happened. Like many other days, the two children headed to the sandbox with their shovels and pails.

“Where did these come from?” Debbie asked, looking at large sandy footprints in the grass. They looked enormous and strange. Each print pressed deep into the earth. “What’s all this sand doing here?”

“Oh, it was just the storm last night,” Billy said. He filled up his pail with moist sand. He sat down in the sandbox and began to build a castle. 

As Debbie was about to step into the sandbox, a fierce wind blew through the tree behind her. She wondered if it was just her imagination. The sky turned black, and thunder cracked across the heavens. The sand began to swirl and whirl, pulling Billy down. Debbie screamed. Then, the sand grew — rising taller and taller — until a towering figure of sand stood where her brother had been. Debbie stood in the grass in utter fear.  

Out of the sandbox rose a towering monster, woven from grains and wind. It roared, its face shaped like her brother’s—but hollow, wrong, not him at all. Every step left behind perfect footprints that crumbled into ordinary sand a moment later. The creature loomed high above the sandbox and knocked down the nearby apple tree. 

“What did you do with my baby brother? I want him back!” Debbie yelled.

The Sandbox Giant reached for Debbie, but she escaped his grasp by throwing a pail of water on him. For a moment, the monster bubbled, but then grew in size again. 

“Momma, come quick!” she yelled. But her mother was inside cleaning the house, unaware. Debbie threw her shovel at the monster. 

“You took what was mine!” the monster growled. “All things return to dust. You build, and I unmake what you build.”

Debbie could not believe such horrible words came from a giant that looked like her brother — but clearly wasn’t him. 

“You don’t live here! My father built this sandbox!” Debbie yelled. 

From the corner of her eye, Debbie found the garden hose in the bushes. She dove to grab the hose, hoping she could melt the Sandbox Giant with a stream of water. As she turned on the hose, the monster lunged for her and almost caught her. Before he could catch her, she sprayed the water in his face. The Sandbox Giant tried to shield himself from the stream of water, but his face started to come off, and his hands dissolved. 

“No!” the monster screamed as the sand bubbled away and his shape began to melt.

“Take that! Disappear! I want my brother back!” Debbie yelled.

“Debbie, why are you yelling?” the mother called from the kitchen window.

“Billy is missing,” Debbie yelled to her mother, still spraying the monster with water.

“Oh, he’s just hiding,” her mother said. “Come out, come out wherever you are...”

When Debbie turned back around, her brother was sitting in the sandbox, building a castle as if nothing had happened. Her hands trembled on the hose. Debbie knew what she saw.  

“What happened to you?” she said. “I always defended you from bullies, but this was the worst one ever.”

“What are you talking about?” Billy said as Debbie curled the garden hose into a pile. Debbie shook her head, knowing that she could never explain to anyone what she saw.

She hoped never to see the Sandbox Giant again. Yet on every stormy night after that, she listened for the wind and kept the garden hose nearby — just in case.

Copyright 2015 Jennifer Waters 

Tiny Tina and the Magnificent Elephant: The Story of A Very Large Grocery Bill

Everyone in the little town of Cloverfield, Indiana, said the town had a touch of magic— a place where fireflies stayed out past bedtime and the cornfields hummed lullabies in the dark. Tiny Tina never saw anything too magical herself, but that was before the circus came to town. Posters on the fence promised elephants, acrobats, and magic under a big striped tent. 

When the circus posters went up all over Cloverfield, Tiny Tina decided she had to meet an elephant. Tina could hardly think about anything else. She’d never met an elephant before—only dreamed about their curly trunks and thunderous feet. Of all the animals, she thought they would be the most fun. 

All week, posters flapped on fence posts and telephone poles—THE GRAND GOLDEN CIRCUS!—promising dancing horses and the biggest elephant in the world. Farmers stopped plowing just to read the fine print. Her mom had already bought them two tickets for Sunday night, but Tina didn’t want to wait until then to meet an elephant. 

At eight years old, Tina was three inches shorter than her classmates—and it bothered her. Sometimes, she felt so small, and she thought she needed a big friend. She decided if she had an elephant for a friend, then she would feel better about herself and not as self-conscious.

So, her plan was to befriend the largest elephant in the circus. Certainly, her mother would understand. Her mom knew that she was obsessed with elephants.

Later in the week, when the elephants arrived at the train yard, Tina’s mom made sure to tell her. It was within walking distance from the house, and Tina knew it was her big chance. She wanted to go alone though, just in case she could bring an elephant home. 

She waited until late the next night, crawled out her yellow farmhouse window, and headed for the train tracks. She insisted on having a large bedroom window so she could see the world more clearly. 

Crickets chirped like tiny violins as Tina tiptoed across the backyard. The moon hung low over the cornfields, lighting the way to the old train yard. 

As she approached the train yard, she noticed a very small opening in the broken fence. Most people wouldn’t have been small enough to fit through the opening. Not “Tiny” Tina—she was about as big as a peanut that elephants ate with their curly trunks. She slipped through the tiny opening and ran to the elephants. No one even noticed her.

As Tina approached the train car, she saw a purple tail sticking out the door. She climbed up the steps on the train car and petted the tail until the elephant woke up. She didn’t know that elephants could be purple. She thought they were only gray. It must have been circus magic.

“Come home with me!” Tina whispered to the elephant. “We could go for walks through the fields in the day, and you could lift me to pick apples from the trees.”

“Do you have a big backyard?” the elephant asked in a deep voice. 

Tina blinked. She also didn’t know elephants could talk—maybe only the magnificent ones could, like the purple one before her. 

“Yes, in fact we have a whole acre where we could play!” Tina said. “I bet you’re tired of the large crowds or standing on your head! I’m much nicer than the Circus Trainer who cracks his whip.”

The elephant roared and stamped his feet on the train car, shaking the entire train on the tracks.

“Yeah! Hooray!” Tina said, curling the elephant’s tail around her arm. “I think I will name you Charley, the Magnificent Elephant! We’ll be best friends!”

Charley smashed open the train door with his trunk and lifted Tina on his back. He stomped out of the train car onto the ground, waking up all the other animals. The purple elephant looked left and then right, and the Circus Trainer was nowhere to be seen. 

Then, the magnificent purple beast trotted down the road, but in the wrong direction.

“Where are you going?” Tina said, grabbing Charley’s flying ears. “My home is the other way!”

Abruptly, the elephant stopped and headed back toward the train. 

“The rest of the circus animals are coming with us, too!” Charley said. “I can’t leave them here, especially the other elephants.”

“Well, I’m not sure what my mom is going to say, but I guess it’s okay,” Tina said. “This is even better than seeing the circus on Sunday night!”

One by one, Charley shook loose the rest of the animals on the train, and Tina held on tight. By the end of the night, behind Charley came elephants, lions, and tigers, giraffes and kangaroos, monkeys and macaws—a parade of paws, tails, and wings! 

“I wonder how I’m going to feed all of you!” Tina said. “And I hope you behave! Don’t attack any of the neighbors, please.”

When the circus reached Tina’s house, all the animals except Charley crept quietly into the backyard. Instead, Charley slipped through Tina’s bedroom window and landed right on her bed. It crumbled and triggered a crack in the wall. Tina didn’t care. She crawled through the window and climbed on Charley’s back—he was softer than a pillow. 

Tina held her breath. Maybe she’d gone too far this time. But Charley’s purple eyes sparkled, and she knew she wouldn’t regret it.

“What’s going on in here?” Tina’s mother ran into the bedroom, gasping. “Oh my gosh! There’s a purple elephant in the room! Where did he come from? Did you roll him in paint?”

Tina was so concerned that she might get in big trouble. She had such a big heart, even if she was a small girl, and she didn’t always think things through. Then, Tina’s mother peered out the bedroom window to see the animals munching on her vegetable garden.

“Can we keep the circus animals for the week while they’re in town? Please? They really need a home with a nice family instead of their cages,” Tina said. 

She hugged her new elephant friend tightly around the neck and kissed him.

“Oh, I suppose . . . I should have never told you the circus was coming to town,” Tina’s mother sighed. “Maybe we could sell tickets for the town to visit the animals and get our money back because it’s going to be a very large grocery bill.”

Tina grinned and hugged Charley’s soft purple neck. Outside, the moon shimmered on the backyard full of circus animals. For the first time, Tiny Tina felt just the right size.

 

Copyright 2015 Jennifer Waters

Time Capsule: The Story of a Girl Who Built a Treasure Chest

Once there was a girl who wanted to send a magical note to the future. She picked up her quill pen and dipped it in ink, but the words didn’t feel big enough. A note could be lost or forgotten. What she really wanted was something more—something like a treasure chest. So, she decided to make a time capsule.

She chose a large jewelry box, smooth and shiny, and opened it carefully. She planned to bury it in her backyard. Instead of gold or jewels, she placed a small swatch of her braided hair inside. It felt strange to leave a piece of herself behind, but it also felt right. This box would hold her memories.

Next, she pressed a flower inside her favorite book of poems about roses and daisies. She closed the pages gently and laid the book at the bottom of the box. On top of it, she placed her grandfather’s pocket watch, its golden chain curling like a sleepy snake. She liked to imagine it ticking away, even when no one was listening.

Then, she added sheet music to a song she had written all by herself, one note at a time. She wrapped her quill pen and slid it into an empty corner. The feather had come from an eagle she once saw near its nest, and she believed it gave the pen a quiet kind of magic.

Last, she picked up her tiny teddy bear, Freddie. He wore one of her socks as a shirt and had been with her for as long as she could remember. She hugged him once before placing him in the box. Maybe someone in the future would need him more than she did. She could sense that even now.

Sometimes the future made her worried and sad, and she felt a strong need to send light into the unknown. Grown-ups talked in low voices these days, and it felt so heavy when they did. 

When everything was inside, she closed the lid. She sealed it with wax and carved the date and her name into the top. Then she wrapped the box in cloth, paper, and twine.

In the backyard, next to the swing set, she dug a hole and buried the time capsule beneath the dirt. As she filled the hole, she wondered who might find it someday. Would they laugh? Would they be curious? Would they understand her?

The afternoon smelled like cut grass and rain. The swing set creaked, moving even though no one was on it.

Before covering the time capsule completely, she smiled, thinking of the picture she had slipped inside—one of herself at fourteen. Time would keep moving forward, changing everything it touched. But deep down, she hoped that some part of her would always stay the same.

She placed a plaque above the capsule that read: TIME STOOD STILL: Open sometime between now and one hundred years from today. Then she drew a treasure map and hid it in another part of the backyard. She didn’t want anyone to miss the plaque.

She packed the dirt down with her hands and brushed the soil from her knees. Then, she rested her palm on the ground, right where the box lay hidden.

And for the first time all day, the future didn’t feel quite so far away.

For a moment, she wondered if she was doing something foolish—burying pieces of herself instead of keeping them close. But the feeling passed.

“I don’t want to forget,” she said softly, as if the box could hear her.

“Wait for the person who needs you,” she whispered.

Many years later, when she was old and gray, she returned to the backyard with a shovel and her grandchildren. She rested her palm on the empty earth again, just as she had done long ago, and felt the warmth rise up to meet her.

Together, they unearthed the time capsule and opened it in the sunlight.

As she lifted each familiar object from the box—the flower, the watch, the tiny bear—memories came rushing back. She smiled, holding them close.

Long ago, she had made the time capsule for someone in the future. She hadn’t known then that she would be the one who needed it most.

The future had been waiting for her all along.

 

Copyright 2015 Jennifer Waters

LOGLINE

A thoughtful girl creates a time capsule filled with the pieces of herself she fears might be lost to time, only to discover years later that the gift she sent to the future was meant for her all along.

 

PITCH

When a young girl feels the weight of an uncertain future, she decides a note is not enough to preserve what matters most. Instead, she builds a time capsule—a quiet treasure chest filled with the objects that define her childhood: a lock of hair, a pressed flower, a beloved book of poems, a pocket watch, a song she has written, and a tiny teddy bear she can barely part with. Buried in her backyard beneath a swing set, the capsule becomes her way of sending light forward in time. Years later, now old and gray, she returns with her grandchildren to unearth what she once left behind and discovers that the memories she preserved were not for a stranger at all, but for the person she would one day become.

Field Trip: The Story of Suzie Q and the Museum Monster

Suzie Q and her fifth-grade class boarded the school bus for their annual field trip. The ugly thick green seat came up to Suzie’s nose, and she could not see beyond it. 

Anne, Suzie’s field trip partner, sat beside her, taking up most of the long seat with her book bag. So, Suzie looked out the window instead, waiting for the bus driver to pull away from the curb. Mrs. Kapp insisted the class go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. She said that the best art in the world was on display, and her students must see it.

“The Museum is a crowded place! Stay with your class partner, and do not get lost!” she said. Ten-year-old Suzie looked at her class partner and shrugged, thinking she was better off alone. Anne was bossy and always acted as though she was better than everyone else. 

Suzie was sure that Anne was bound to be the one who got lost, and Suzie would be blamed. Anne never listened to class directions and always thought she was right about everything. However, she was usually wrong about most things and just wanted her way, like a bully. As the school bus parked outside the Museum, the students walked off the bus.

“Everyone must wait in line! The Museum doesn’t open until 10 o’clock sharp.” Mrs. Kapp said. “Now everyone hold hands as we wait for the doors to open and adventure to begin!”

As Suzie reached for Anne’s hand, she realized that Anne had already disappeared. 

“Oh no! Anne is gone!” Suzie cried, scratching her head underneath her woolen hat.

Mrs. Kapp threw up her hands in disgust, saying: “Can’t anyone listen to me? Is it that hard?” When the doors to the Museum finally opened, Mrs. Kapp marched the class to security. “Which way to ‘Lost and Found’? I need to find a missing student . . .”

The security guard pointed to the left, and Suzie bit her tongue, holding back nasty comments. “This is not my fault,” Suzie said. “I didn’t get lost . . . Anne just wandered off . . .”

“Of course,” Mrs. Kapp said. “If she gets eaten by the Museum Monster, it will be your fault.” When the class arrived at “Lost and Found,” a frazzled woman stepped from behind a pile of junk.

“We need to find Anne,” Suzie announced, hoping that she was safe and sound. 

“Well, if you can find her in this mess, feel free,” the woman said, wiping her brow. “I already have a few students who became separated from their teachers—they’re in the closet.”

Just in case Anne was hiding under the mound of lost things, Suzie dug through the pile. If the Museum Monster was real, Suzie did not want it to find her, simply because Anne got eaten. Everything in the mound was marked “L-O-S-T” with tags—hats, scarfs, bags, and umbrellas. 

“I always stamp the children’s foreheads L-O-S-T, so they can’t get away,” the woman said. 

“Yes, I can see that!” Mrs. Kapp said, pulling Anne from the closet by her ear. 

“L-O-S-T” was clearly stamped across Anne’s head in large blue letters. 

Mrs. Kapp bent over and spoke in Anne’s ear, so she couldn’t misunderstand the directions: “You are now F-O-U-N-D. Stay with the group. You cannot do what you want! I am in charge.”

Suzie sighed in relief, glad that the Museum Monster never found Anne by accident. For the rest of the day, Suzie pulled Anne through the Museum, telling her what to do. 

The students never met the Museum Monster and arrived safely back to their parents. Even if Anne cried like a baby, saying it was a horrible day; Suzie had fun and hoped to return soon. Besides, if Suzie ever lost her umbrella, she would know where to find it without a problem.

 

Copyright 2015 Jennifer Waters