When the Kingdom of Icytopia falls under siege at the hands of a rowdy band of revolutionaries, it's up to Arthur, the over-fussed pet Jack Russell of Princess Anastasia to flee the palace and save both the lives of his family and the honour of his country. Forced to embark upon a treacherous journey across icy wastelands and unrelenting seas to Great Britain, Arthur is helped along the way by a crew of unforgetable characters such as the wise and solitary Eskimo, Daisy the timid and rather rotund walrus, the onion seller and Lynn, a highly strung Young artist who discovers that she has the ability to read the little dog's mind. Follow this unlikely gang of heroes into a world of intrigue, over elaborate plans and pickled walrus burgers.........
During those intimate moments between you and your pooch, when you’re looking into his eyes and he is looking into yours, have you ever wondered where he came from? Or what his mother and father looked like? Well, I had a moment such as this and fortunately I was lucky to possess a gift, the gift of reading my dog’s mind, and this is what he told me.
The Royal Family portrait was due to be taken in exactly ten minutes time and the only preparation left was the grooming of Arthur, the pet dog who belonged to Anastasia, the Princess of Icytopia. So there the little dog sat, poised on top of his red velvet stool which was situated in front of a vast, golden antique mirror, whilst the princess herself applied the final touch, a dark blue velvet collar, dripping in the finest of diamonds. Being a vain sort of chap, Arthur couldn’t help but gaze at his handsome reflection with deep satisfaction. This little dog was a very famous character in his home country, and he held the grand title of ‘Prince of Jack Russells’ His silky fur which was always cut short and to perfection was on the whole as white as the pure driven snow apart from four bronze-coloured patches on his short muscular body. One large patch hung over each of his eyes and ears which made him look like a blue-blooded highwayman; another sat gallantly on his left shoulder, which he carried like a shining medal; and finally, a ring of golden bronze fur sat at the end of his tail, which stood to attention at all times like a flag at full mast. To top it all, the gleaming diamonds that hung around his elegant neck made Arthur look more than worthy of his royal position: an elegant chap to say the least.
Whilst Arthur was taking time out to reminisce over fond memories
of his friend the Eskimo, the hot lazy sun was working hard at shining
down on him, and for the first time in days he felt warm, dry and very,
very sleepy. The warm comforting breeze, which seemed to relax his
tired body, finally won the battle, and in no time at all Arthur nodded
off to sleep and soaked up the sun’s beautiful warm rays.
Goodness knows how long Arthur had slept, and oh how he had
dreamt about many things: his bed at the palace with its plump feather
mattress, his beautiful mistress, and of course, plates piled high with
all of his favourite food, which certainly did not include walrus meat.
After eleven days of eating nothing but walrus burgers Arthur felt that
he would never be able to face another piece of walrus meat ever again
in his life, whether it be baked, boiled, grilled or fried.
Oh yes, there he was, poor old Arthur, lying flat on his back fast asleep with all four paws pointing straight up into the air whilst the warm soft breeze gently pushed and pulled his by now far-from-regal fur coat.
As time passed lazily along, Arthur began to have the most disturbing dream. In the dream he found himself tumbling down from the sky. Suddenly, Arthur woke with a jolt and realized that he was in fact falling from the clouds, down towards the sea.
Down and down Arthur tumbled with uncontrollable speed. His paws and legs kicked and spun cartwheels as he tried to control his descent, but this was no use at all. Suddenly, with an almighty SPLASH he hit the water,
but unfortunately this was not the end of this horrifying experience because, once again, Arthur carried on falling down into the icy, cold sea. It was at this point that he finally came to his senses. Arthur knew that he had to do something if he wanted to come out of this alive and so, in the midst of the freezing, deep-green sea he threw away the bucket from around his neck and began to kick with all four paws like a mad dog, towards the twinkling surface. By this time, Arthur’s face was as red as a berry as he tried desperately to hold onto the last breath of air left inside his lungs. Fortunately his plan seemed to work and as Arthur continued to kick harder than he had ever kicked in his life he finally broke the surface of the water, shot into the air like a missile, and then fell back down into the waves with another tremendous SPLASH.
At last, Arthur found himself lying on top of the water feeling totally
exhausted and sick to his stomach with dizziness, but just as his head felt like it was going to roll off his shoulders and explode he suddenly
became aware of a strange feeling that he was not alone. Arthur rolled
over so that he was floating in the water on his stomach with just his
eyes peeking out above the surface, the way that a crocodile floats when
he is basking in the sun, but unfortunately Arthur was not happily
basking or enjoying any moment of this strange situation. In fact, his heart was pounding with fear as he tried to look around for whatever was making him feel anxious.
Surely you must sympathize, dear reader, with the way that Arthur was feeling at this particular moment. You know this feeling. When you’re in bed at night and it’s dark and something in your stomach tells you that you are not alone. You try as hard as you can to recognize something, but whatever it is remains lurking in the shadows and by now you are so frightened that you can hear your heart pounding in
your ears and you struggle to breathe quietly, so as not to be noticed.
Well, this is exactly how Arthur felt.
“Something is definitely out there,” he mumbled under his breath.
Luckily, the raft was bobbing up and down not too far away, so quietly and slowly Arthur began to swim towards the safety of his shed.
“If I could just reach Floatovski, I could turn the sail into the wind
and be gone, leaving whatever it is behind.”
Now that he had formulated a plan, Arthur began to edge forward a little bit further and a little bit further still until eventually he had
hold of Floatovski, and with the tiny amount of energy that he had
left he clambered back on board and lay there gasping for air. The
sweet, salty air felt good as it rushed back into his lungs, making Arthur feel alive again, but unfortunately he didn’t have much time to recover because suddenly he heard CRASH, CLUNK, CLONK. The hairs on
the back of Arthur’s neck stood on end and so did his ears. He lay as flat as he could on the deck and strained to hear where the sound was coming from. Finally the penny dropped and Arthur realized that the horrific sounds were coming from his shed. Something was definitely in there.
Arthur’s imagination began to run riot as he imagined all types of creatures to be hidden in his makeshift home. In his mind he conjured up monsters with two heads and eight eyes, and others with one eye and eight arms. Or it could even be….“Oh no, it couldn’t be!”
exclaimed Arthur. “It couldn’t possibly be A GIANT WALRUS!”
Arthur remembered what the Eskimo had told him about giant walruses. “They’ll just smash up the raft and suck the bones out of you.”
Yes, that was definitely what he had said. Well, what was Arthur going to do? Swim for his life and hope that someone out at sea would pick him up? Lie still and pretend to be dead, and just hope that the beast did not eat him? Or go in there with all of his fighting might and chase this thing away? Well, which would you choose, dear reader? Don’t forget that Arthur’s veins were full of royal blue blood. His father and his father’s father had led battles, fighting for the salvation of Icytopia.
It was in his bronze and white genes to fight to the last.
Admittedly, it did take Arthur a long time to come to his decision, and when he did he didn’t exactly go in there with all guns blazing.
Very quietly, he slid on his belly towards the shed and cautiously stuck
one ear to the door and listened. To his dismay his ear was filled with the most horrific sounds of CRASH, CLANK, CLUNK, followed by GULP, GULP,SHUFFLE, SHUFFLE. Gingerly, Arthur put his head
around the door and took a peek at his visitor. Sadly for him, Arthur’s greatest fear had come true. With wide, petrified eyes, he took in the
scene before him. Crashing around in the shed like an enormous titan
was a one-headed, two-eyed, enormously tusked giant walrus!
In a split second it all became clear to Arthur how he had ended up in the water. The walrus must have landed on top of Floatovski and catapulted him into the air whilst he was asleep. Having come to this conclusion, Arthur turned bright red with rage, and with all the courage that he could muster he ran on very wobbly legs to find a
weapon in order to defend himself.
After some desperate searching all that Arthur could find was an
old bucket and a long piece of wood with a spike on the end. Arthur’s
dear friend, the Eskimo, had put the makeshift spear on the raft just in
case Arthur needed to catch fish to eat.
So there the great Icytopian warrior stood; with his bucket on his
head and his pole under his arm, he looked like a demented medieval
knight. Pushing the bucket clear of his eyes, Arthur charged into the
shed with all of his might. The door flew open and Arthur ran straight
for the walrus whilst its back was turned. The great beast was bending
over Arthur’s box of supplies.
“Ahhh,” screamed Arthur, as he spiked the walrus in its fat bottom.