Endangered Animal Book!

In class, we read “Squirm” by Carl Hiaasen. It’s a story about a boy named Billy, and his journey. One of the main themes is animals and protecting them, so after reading the book we got to do an activity where we wrote stories from the point of view of an endangered animal. I chose a Bengal tiger, because it seemed cool! After we finished writing and revising our stories we made a book using paper, paint, and collaging. We got to paint with bright colors, make patterns on the paper, then cut it and collage it into our book! It was messy, and hard, but so, so, fun! They were the shortest classes we were having so much fun, and when every minute was worth it! Our result was a beautiful book. Now, I’ll let you have a look at my story:

Bengal Tiger

By Elizabeth

CRASH! The forest floor shook. I dug my sharp claws into the quivering mossy ground as the tree collapsed to the forest floor with a shuddering breath. I ducked down, my gold pelt shining underneath the canopy. I am a Bengal tiger, a panthara tigris tigris. A noble, beautiful animal. A mighty hunter. A nurturing mother. A fierce protector. The water buffalo that I had two days ago seemed like it was forever. Hunger was clawing at the inside of my stomach, howling for food. The no-pelts came, with their monsters spewing smoke and oozing oil, scaring off prey. The main thing threatening my species is habitat loss. It makes it hard to find prey and shelter. Stalking through the jungle wearily, trying to find something to satisfy my complaining stomach.

The sun is a beacon at this hour as it rests high in the sky, making the water flicker and shimmer as if it were sending liquid light through the small waves. They lap and gently tug at my fur as I drift through the river. I am gliding through the lake gracefully and silently, my eyes searching the horizon for a flicker of movement. I see the no-pelts downriver, poking sticks in the water. God help them, these ones look a bit slow. Not all of them are, though. Some are dangerous. I remember, as a cub, one day my mother smelled iron and fire, and something else she didn’t want me to hear. Her eyes narrowed, and her posture went rigid. Her claws unsheathed, and she grabbed me. Not in her usual, gentle, lazy way, but in a way that made me look back. What could have scared my mother? My invincible, beautiful, powerful protector? “BANG!” My ears ring and my eyes water, terrified. My mother was sprinting through the undergrowth faster, desperately, until we were safe. I hadn’t understood then how dangerous they could be. Have you ever run from somewhere and wondered if it would be the last thing you would ever see?

This evening, when I finally ambush a boar and kill it, I feel content as I lean down to admire my kill. My eyes feel like they have searched for days, and my paws feel as if they have run for miles for this food. I scarf down hungry bites. You never know how long it will be until you eat again. When I’m finished, I move on. That night, I found a small mossy hollow to sleep in. The Indian jungle is wet, mossy, and humid. Which makes it hard to get to sleep sometimes, it’s a good thing I don’t mind being wet. Swimming is actually one of my favorite things to do. The cool water feels wonderful after a long, hard day. I hunt in the water sometimes, but most of the time I just want to cool off. I remember once I was swimming, minding my own business, when a bunch of no-pelts saw me and started SCREAMING. Shrieking like they were being hunted by something. You have never heard anything like it. I left at once to get far, far, away from the violent screaming animals. No, thank you. I wonder what set them off.

A way the no-pelts could help my species is by making sure to preserve our habitat. I’m bewildered how the no-pelts could take something beautiful, gushing with life and magic. And they crush it beneath their feet just for being in the way. Doesn’t your world have enough shopping malls and McDonald’s? Why should lives be in danger because of no-pelts greedy nature? Why should we have to suffer? They’ve ripped away so many beautiful things on this earth. And we’re asking them to save one. We’re not asking them to change much. Just develop a conscience. Let the creatures of our earth not have to fear iron and fire; let us see that you will not stand by while everything we have ever loved is severed. Just like that, gone. Could a no-pelt even imagine? I don’t think so. But some part of me still has hope. I hope that one day enough no-pelts will care. Silly dream, I know. But still, I have to hope they can change, because the no-pelts are our only chance. Can’t they see that?