Reuben’s Trabel Journal – Entry #5

Reuben’s Trabel Journal – Entry #5
Location: Just outside Saint-Baguette-sur-Lune
Date: The Day Dougie Flew
Dear Journal,
Today, Dougie flew. Not on purpose.
We were cruising fru the French countryside, wind in our ears and baguette crumbs on our shirts, when a loose cobblestone leapt up and sent our Vespa into a wild zig-zag.
My paws clenched the handlebars like they were made ob glue. I swerbed. I squeaked. I fought for control wiff all the strength in my tiny arms. Somehow, I got us back on course. I was just starting to breathe again when—
I heard it.
A wail. A soft, high-pitched, baby-elephant-who-is-no-longer-on-the-scooter kind of wail.
I looked back just in time to see Dougie—ears flapping, trunk trailing—flying through the air like a fuzzy dumpling fired from a cannon.
My heart actually stopped. Teddy fainted in the sidecar. And Dougie was flying.
And then—he landed. Right in a fruit cart.
A beautiful, wobbly, oberstuffed fruit cart just outside a little roadside stand. He landed in a splash of grapes and rolled into a pile of apples. An orange bounced dramatically into the air and hit a nearby turnip.
He popped his head up between a carrot and a grape bunch, looking mildly surprised but mostly okay.
The cart owner—an elderly badger—gasped, then declared him “un miracle moelleux,” which means “a soft miracle.” She even gabe him a fruit kabob for the road.
I ran to him and hugged him so hard we squished a kumquat. He said the landing was “a little juicy,” but otherwise fine. Teddy has recobered. The Vespa is unscratched.
Dougie is now referring to himself as The Flying Trunk.
Adventure rating: 12/10. Would recommend. Maybe pack a parachute next time.
More soon,—Reuben xoxo



