It's Sam's fifth birthday and he's been crying all morning.

"Ah, Sam, says his mother, as she cuddles him, 
"You have to go to school!"
"Who ever heard of a fish going to school? No one from our family ever went to school! You're a horrible Mummy. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

How Sam wished his big, strong, Dad was there. Dad went out one morning and never came back. They didn't know that he was in a glass case, over the fireplace in The Angler's Rest. The brass plate read:
"Specimen trout, 8 pounds 12 ounces."

So, at precisely five minutes to nine, on that September morning, Sam and his Mum entered the classroom. Standing at the door was Mrs. Botty. Mrs. Botty, Sam's teacher. Her hair is in a bun and she has two big, red cheeks. She is a very kind person. 
All the boys and girls are painting and colouring or playing with blocks. They lool very happy. All the Mums and Dads are crying.

When the other children see Sam they begin to laugh. They laugh and laugh till they have pains in their stomachs and tears in their eyes.

Sam goes all red with shame and looks like his distant cousin, Seamus "Red" Snapper.


"Now, children," says Mrs. Botty, "you must not laugh at any pupil just because they look different". 
She makes them promise not to laugh at him any more. But as soon as Sam sits on the seat, he just slithers to the floor. He goes under the other children's legs and shoots like a bullet to the front of the class. He stops at Mrs. Botty's feet.
The children laugh louder than before. 
Poor Sam.
He feels he isn't like them and never can be. He is already hating school more than he hates anything in his life. He can't wait to leave them and  their silly laughter. It doesn't help matters when the teacher ties Sam to the desk to stop him from slipping.

When they have all settled down again, Mrs. Botty asks if they would like to learn a new poem.
She then begins reciting a poem about a cat sitting on a mat. Or was it a dog running in the bog? Or, maybe it was a fish making a wish. Anyway, Sam thinks it is a very silly poem

She then tells them the story about how Mary plays football and Bill loves his dollies - after all, this is the new politically correct school curriculum.

Things are now going kind of alright for Sam. At small break, he takes out his worm butter and dragon-fly jam sandwiches which his Mum made for him. That's when they begin laughing at him again. 
"Are you going to have fish fingers for big break?" says Petunia McIntyre.
"You should be called Ray, not Sam!" sneers Rodney McNicholas.
"You're only an old cod!" says Tom Ryan, who would grow up to be a bully because his Dad is one.

Mrs Botty tells Sam not to mind them but Daphne White says they're not letting him off the hook that easily.
"I'm going to batter you the first chance I get", said Cedric McDonald.
"You must come home and meet Tom, my cat; I'm sure he'd love you. Ha, Ha, Ha!" said Priscilla Jordan. She isn't normally unkind but her biggest fear is to be left out of the gang.

It all gets too much for poor Sam. Slithering out of his seat, he half skids, half runs, straight out the door. The tears sting his eyes so much that he doesn't see Sergeant O'Hare on his bike. 
The Sergeant avoids crashing into Sam by crashing into a hole left by the Council. For the tenth time that  year, they are digging up the same stretch of road. 
"Now look what you've done! You stupid, careless .... HADDOCK!" 

Now Sam could understand the Sergeant calling him stupid and careless, given the circumstances, but he would not put up with being called a haddock. 
"Brown Trout" he says, correcting the Sergeant. 
"I'll give you Brown Trout" says the Sergeant! 
"Just what do you mean by running down the middle of the main street during the busiest time of the day! You could have been killed. I could have been killed!!" 
Sam starts to tell him what happened at school but he begins to sob again.

"OK, OK, OK!" says the Sergeant.
"Here - blow your nose". 
There follows a huge honking sound, not unlike that made by the Canadian Snow Goose with a bad dose of the flu. Eventually Sam calms down and tells the Sergeant the whole, painful, story. The Sergeant listens and doesn't interrupt him once. 
"Well," says the Sergeant, "that's a terrible morning altogether. I'll tell you what, why don't you come down to the station with me for some nice beetle and ant sandwiches seeing as you didn't have your small break". 
So, the Sergeant puts Sam inside his jacket with only his tiny head and big eyes peeping out, and soon they arrive at the station.
"I'd like to go home now please, Sergeant", says Sam having eaten his sandwiches. 
"Alright, Sam, I'll give you a lift".
It's a bright, lovely, September morning as the two of them speed towards the bridge and the river. Two fields away, Charlie Rafter is in his big, red and yellow combine harvester. He is cutting the corn. Sam likes Charlie. One day when Charlie was fishing, he caught Sam but gently let him back in the river. 

The Sergeant is a clever man so instead of taking him directly to the brook, he decides that first he'll take Sam on a little tour of the town.
"Do you see that fella over there?" says the Sergeant, pointing to a paunchy greyhound, standing up on crossed hind legs, his back leaning against the bookmaker's window. With his front paws he holds the Racing Post. A cigarette dangles from his lips. 
"Morning, Gerry."
"Morning Sarge", said Gerry. 

"Spends all his time in the bookies", whispers the Sergeant. 
"He never bets on horses or dogs, though; he only bets on humans - running, that sort of thing. He says it wouldn't be right to exploit his fellow animals. He belongs to Ger Lynch who's had him since he was a pup. Ger would send him off to school in the morning but he wouldn't go. He'd go off with the other dogs chasing cattle on Darby's Hill or running after the deer in the Phoenix Park.

"He showed great promise as a pup and nearly won the Irish Derby at his first attempt. Then he began smoking and drinking. He does nothing now but go around all day, rooting in bins. 

"Some days he'll call into the butchers in Tesco asking for a bone for the cat! Sure everyone knows he doesn't own a cat; but the butcher is a kind man. He would never allow Gerry go hungry."

So, on they ride that lovely, warm, sunny morning. Soon, they pass Ryan's Garage. Then they turn left, down the Mill Road. 
"Theres someone else I'd like you to meet, Sam. She's over there", said the Sargeant, pointing towards a field. 

Sam can't see anyone. There's nothing but a big muddy pool. But on looking closer he can make out the shape of something lying down in the mud. The creature is all mud - mud on its back, mud on its ears, mud in its ears, mud on its nose, even the mud had mud. And there it lay, baking in the sun. 
"Morning, Henrietta", said the Sergeant.
Henrietta grunts in reply. 
"She gives herself a mud bath to keep the flies away. When the mud hardens the flies and insects can't bite her.
"Henrietta loved school and is a very intelligent pig. She wanted more out of life than ending up sharing a breakfast plate with a free range egg and two slices of toast.
"What she really wanted most, in all the world, was to be a ballet dancer. She loved dancing and had bought some beautiful tutus, which, after some slight alterations, fitted her perfectly. But when she told her friends about this, they all laughed. 
'The only dancing you'll ever do is on a frying pan,' they would tease her. 
'You'll be too busy frying to be dancing! Hahaha!'
"Others would tell her that she was going to end up like all her brothers and sisters - mild cure bacon or gold medal sausages or black and white pudding.

"Now, she didn't mind them at first. But, over the years, it gradually wore her down and she began to doubt if she really was good enough. 

"After all, no one from her family had ever been a ballerina, or a firewoman or a train driver or explored jungles in Africa or went down in submarines to see the Titanic or slept in a tent on the side of a mountain or walked inside a volcano or did a gig at the Albert Hall.

"So, gradually, she became discouraged. She quit school. She didn't see the point in it. She began to think that people were right when they told her she'd never be a ballet dancer."
"But why does she just lie there in the mud?", asked Sam.
"Because she cares too much about what people think of her," said the Sergeant.
"She thinks that if she does nothing, then no one can laugh at her or hurt her. So, she does nothing."
"Goodbye, Henrietta", says the Sergeant.
She grunts a muddy reply.
On they cycle on the dusty road for another mile. Soon they reach the green woods. Just before Manley's field they leave the road and start down a narrow, blackberry-lined, path.
"There's one last person I'd like you to meet, Sam." He leans the bike against a huge beech tree.
"Cyril! Hello Cyril! Are you home? Cyyyyyyriiiiiiiil!"
Gradually, the black head of Cyril Crowe peeps over the edge of a nest, fifty feet in the branches.
"That you, Sarge?"
"Yes Cyril, it's me, ok."
"You bring anything, Sarge?"
"I'm sending it up to you right now."
For the first time, Sam notices a bucket with a rope attached to it. The other end of the rope is slung over a branch and stopps about three feet from the ground.

The Sergeant opens a brown bag and takes out a hamburger, fries and a coke. He places them in the bucket and pulls the rope. The bucket rises up and up and doesn't stop 'til it reaches Cyril's nest.
"Sarge, ah Sarge, what would I do without you."
Probably starve, the Sergeant thinks, but he's too kind to say it.

"I haven't eaten for four days and I'm faintin' with the hunger. You're a great man for bringing it all the way out here. Blessins o' God on you."

Sam watches Cyril devouring the burger, gobbling the chips and slurping the coke. Every now and then, he lets out a big BURRRP.
"What a feed. What a feed!"
"While he's eating that, I'll tell you his story. Cyril, as you can see, is a crow. He does all the other things that other crows do. Except for one thing - he won't fly. He lies in that old nest all day. Only for me and his family he'd probably starve, or die of thirst. Or both. 

"But he wasn't always like that. When he was a young crow he went to flying school. He was a top gun. He could do things no other crow could do: he could fly as high as an eagle, as fast as a hawk and as far as a swallow; he was the only bird ever known who could fly on one wing. He could fly backwards and upside down while singing 'Ground Control to Major Tom'. For a crow, he had a very musical voice.

"Then it all changed. This particular day, he was showing off in front of this very beautiful girl crow - I think her name was Carrie Ann. He wanted to take her to the school tree dance.
"He was doing all his usual tricks like one wing flying, dive bombing, hang gliding and his favourite - moon walking. One of his best tricks was to fly straight up to a huge height, fold in his wings and drop feet first; then he'd begin the Riverdance dance and finish it just before he reached the ground.

"On this particular day he felt so good that he did an extra couple of taps. He couldn't stop in time. He landed on the ground with a terrible bang and nearly killed himself.

"Did you ever hear two hundred crows laughing? They could be heard miles away. Cyril was dazed. His wings and bum were very sore. Even Carrie Ann Crowe was laughing at him. Since that day, he hasn't left the tree."

"Good bye, Cyril, might see you tomorrow."
"Oh, right, Sarge, and thanks for the grub. Just one thing, Sarge - if you come tomorrow, can you bring us a Double Whopper with cheese and chips, and a Sprite Zero just for a change. Oh, and don't forget the ketchup."

"I'll see what I can do, Cyril", says the Sergeant over his shoulder as he and Sam cycle the narrow path back to the main road.

"Well, Sam, I'll let you off here, beside the river and you can swim home.

But at that moment Sam has made up his mind.
"Take me back to school, Sergeant, will you?"
"Why, Sam?"
"Because not going to school seems a lot worse than going. And not all the children are naughty."

He remembers Lolita Brennan who gave him her last Rolo; then there's Nellie White who shared her chips; and especially Josephine Tyrrell who put her arms around him and gave him a big hug when he was crying and she told the others not to be making fun of him.

When Sam's Mum comes to collect him that afternoon, she finds him in the classroom surrounded by all the other children. Sam is telling them about the time he was nearly eaten by a giant water rat and how he had to hide in the rushes.

Then he tells them about the time he was practising his back stroke and crashes into Winnie Waterhen's nest and cracks one of her eggs. The egg is taken on an egg stretcher to the egg ambulance which takes it to the eggpital.
"But that's another story," says Sam. "If you don't mind, I'll tell it another time."
Sam walks across the school yard holding his Mum's fin.

"You know what Mum? I don't really, really, really, hate you. I really, really, really, love you. And I can't wait to go to school tomorrow."

His Mum laughs and says, "well, that makes two of us, Sam; that makes two of us!"