Beauteous Munch, Popular Show Dog

One
night long ago in a once-upon-a-time world there was a little lost dog in a
faraway forest. The dog was alone and hungry, and it was a bitter winter in the
forest. The little dog was settling into the cold den he had burrowed for himself
in the snow around the roots of a tree, and as he curled up there in the
darkness he heard the distant shimmer of bells and, a moment later, voices
carrying in the forest, a great many voices joined in some happy song. The dog
had never known anyone to pass through the faraway forest, not once in his lost
time in that cold and lonely place had he heard voices like these, or the
beautiful and wondrous stamping of bells.

The
little dog crept to the edge of his den and sniffed, peering, in the direction of
the music. A moment later, light from the many torches of the travelers crept
dimly into the clearing outside the den, then chased completely the darkness
before them, becoming full, woofing light. The dog watched in wonder as the
brightly clad travelers paraded into view, a moving cloud of steam and smoke
rising above them, carrying within it much laughter and song.

There
were many tiny acrobats and a great thin fellow toddling upon stilts and
several laughing jugglers. There were five shy horses pulling bright clattering
wagons, and interspersed amongst the parade were dozens of chattering clowns.
At the very end of this colorful parade, lagging almost outside the very last
of the torchlight, there was a small and limping sad-faced clown, leading an old
and slow donkey. As the dog crept from his hiding place in the snow and the
roots of the giant tree, the happy songs and jangling bells of the travelers
were already fading away into the distance and the darkness of the faraway
forest.

The
dog trotted along after the parade and soon found himself beside the limping
clown and the old donkey. When finally the sad-faced clown became aware of the
dog’s presence, a look of surprise and happiness came over his face and he let
out a cry that startled the little dog. The clown crouched in the snow
alongside the donkey and clapped his hands and called out, and when the dog
came into the clown’s arms the little clown began to laugh and the small, laughing clown held the dog in his arms, rocking him gently.

The
clown carried the little dog in his arms -murmuring and giggling happily all
the while-as they brought up the rear of the noisy and colorful and clanking
parade.

They
traveled that night until the torches had all burned down to darkness, and then
they stopped and set up their camp alongside a frozen river. It had grown quite
cold, and the travelers bundled together under their blankets beside roaring
fires, with the horses and the donkey huddled stamping and steaming just
outside the circle of jugglers, acrobats, and clowns.

The
clown had swaddled the lost dog in an old wool blanket, and he held the dog in
his arms and rocked him as the others told stories and laughed and gradually
drifted into silence and sleep.

The
limping little clown’s name was Munch, or so he was known to his fellow
travelers, and now he whispered to the dog in his arms, "I shall call you
Beauteous Munch." Together they sat up until the bonfire had died away to
embers, and together they saw a sky above them where there was no darkness at
all, where there were millions upon millions of bright stars. The clown sang
quiet lullabies and interrupted himself at one point to say, "Look, there goes
a shooting star! Sweet dreams,
Beauteous Munch."

And
that night, as he lay curled up beneath the blankets with the little clown,
Beauteous Munch was warm and slept without shivering for the first time since
the long ago day when he had first found himself lost in the faraway forest.

There
had been a time when Beauteous Munch was a puppy living contentedly with his
mother and his brothers and sisters in a wooden box in a small town. One day an
old man and woman had come to take him away to live with them in their house.
They were loud and unhappy people, and try as he might Beauteous Munch could
not make them any less unhappy. The old man was impatient with Beauteous Munch
and shouted at him often.

All
day Beauteous Munch would sit at the window staring out at the children playing
in the street and passing by his house. Then one day when the nights were
beginning to get cold, the old man put Beauteous Munch outside and it was
raining very hard, and cry as he might and scratch at the door as he did,
Beauteous Munch could not get the old man or woman to open the door for him so
he could come in out of the rain. Beauteous Munch sat on the steps of the house
for a long time that night, until he saw the lamp in the front room
extinguished and it was dark up and down the street and the rain was beginning
to turn to snow. That was the night Beauteous Munch wandered away and
eventually found himself exhausted and lost in the faraway forest.

The
first night in the faraway forest Beauteous Munch tried to sleep, but he was
wet and cold and lonely. He was a sad little dog, and he missed his long ago
once-upon-a-time life. He peered up through the big, wet snowflakes that were
cart-wheeling out of the sky and he found a star there barely twinkling, a
little star that looked lost and distant and alone. And as Beauteous Munch
closed his eyes he wished upon that lost and distant star, wished that
somewhere there was another wish lost and longing for a dog, and that attached
to that wish was someone special with quiet magic in his hands and a soft voice
and a smile that could wag a little dog’s tail.

That
same night, far away from the faraway forest, Munch the clown was bundled up in
a blanket next to his donkey, listening to the laughter and the songs of his
traveling companions. He was stout and not as graceful as any of the others,
nor as skilled. Even as a clown his only real role was to lead the donkey and
the horses around the ring, and to assist some of the others with their stunts.
He could not sing, and because he spoke with a slight stutter he was the
quietest of the troupe, and tended to settle by himself into the background,
talking quietly with the donkey and the horses.

And
so it was that that very same night the little clown looked up into the
sky and wished upon a small and distant star; Munch the clown closed his eyes
and showed his crooked little teeth to the moon and offered only the simplest
and most humble of wishes: Please, he
whispered, Something Nice. Something happy. A small, happy thing.

And
now Beauteous Munch and the little clown were together, and that first night as
they curled up together beside the fire and Beauteous Munch was warm and happy
for the first time in a great many days, the little clown saw the beautiful
shooting star tumble all the way down the sky and he thought to himself, So that is what happens when two wishes
collide with one another: An old star
is freed from the heavens and falls into a distant sea where it becomes a
thousand bright and shimmering fishes. A wish come true is a gift that sets the
stars free.

So
that is the story of how Beauteous Munch came to live with Munch the sad-faced
clown. Together they learned many tremendous and difficult tricks and Beauteous
Munch learned to ride on the old donkey’s back and walk across a rope and leap
into the arms of Munch the clown, and all the signs the performers took around
and posted in the towns and villages now said "BEAUTEOUS MUNCH -POPULAR SHOW
DOG!" He was very popular indeed, and people everywhere would come from far and
wide to see the little clown and his astonishing dog.

And
on clear nights, as Beauteous Munch and his friend the clown
curled up and drifted off to sleep, they would stare into the sky above them
and watch with drowsy wonder as star after star tumbled through the darkness
and somewhere, they knew, wishes came true.