Otter Chaos!

To my big sister, Jackie.

For our adventures along the river.

Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Other Awesome Animal titles available

Copyright

About the Publisher

In the Black corner...

In the Brown corner...

“See you tomorrow, Sooty!” yelled Woody Brown as his furry black friend reached the other side of the river and clambered on to the grassy bank.

“See you tomorrow, Woody!” Sooty Black yelled back, waving both arms at his furry brown friend. Then Sooty dashed along the water’s edge and vanished into the roots of an overhanging tree that concealed his family den.

A tangle of twigs and branches marked the entrance to Woody Brown’s riverside home. Woody dived below the waterline with a tail splash, whooshed through the tunnel entrance and clambered up into a cavern lined with mud, twigs and moss.

The world above had been serene, with humming insects and busy buzzing bees, but down in the den there was a rollicking riot of otter activity!

“What’s going on?” gasped Woody, trying not to get flattened as his entire family scampered out of three narrow tunnels and squeezed into the central chamber. But the only replies he got were an “OUCH!” and an “EEEK!” and an “OI! GET OFF MY HEAD!”

It seemed Papa Brown had summoned everyone for an emergency meeting. This meant three generations of the Brown family had to cram themselves into a very small space and no one had the faintest idea why. Papa did a quick headcount of nine, including his own, and then wriggled through the furry throng and flapped his paws for everyone to be quiet.

“Big families are brilliant!” he said cheerfully, which was met with a wave of groans and grumbles from the tangle of hot, squashed otters. “But I think we can all agree that, living in this tiny den together, things can get a little… er… heated…’

“Do get to the point, dear,” said Mama Brown, fanning Grandma Maple and Grandpa Bruno with her tail. “Or soon there will be two fewer otters to hear your fabulous news.”

“Yes, of course,” said Papa, swiftly trimming a long-winded speech about big families in his head. “When I left the den this morning I thought today would be an ordinary day of fishing and floating and cracking clams on my furry belly. Little did I know that fate had other ideas…”

“An even shorter version than that, my love,” sighed Mama.

“Yes, dear,” said Papa, cutting his dramatic build-up down to the bare essentials. “I was swimming upstream, heading for my usual fishing spot, when I suddenly saw—”

“Oi! Get your tail off my tail!” snapped Nutmeg, prodding her twin brother in the chest.

“It’s not my tail, it must be your tail!” snapped Chestnut, prodding his sister back.

“Actually, I think that’s my tail,” whispered Beanie, wiggling the end of it just to make sure. Beanie was younger than the twins and a little older than Woody. She preferred snacking to swimming and daydreaming to diving, which meant she still had most of her puppy fat.

“That’s one enormous tail!” chuckled the twins.

“Oh, never mind roly-poly Beanie and her chubby club,” scoffed Coco, frantically licking her paws and smoothing them over her head. “My fur is frizzing up in this humid hole!”

“Don’t be so mean to Beanie,” said Woody, standing up for his shy sister, even though Coco was the biggest and he was the smallest. “At least she isn’t a frizzy-furred old stinky bottom!”

“HA! HA!” laughed Chestnut and Nutmeg.

“Ooo, you little…!” shrieked Coco, lunging for her little brother, which proved difficult to do in such a tight space, so she ended up on top of everyone.

The young otters all began squabbling, which they often did, having spent their whole lives sharing one small chamber between the five of them. And they were squabbling so ferociously they missed Papa’s big news. He pressed his paws either side of his whiskers and yelled it again at the top of his voice.

“WE’RE MOVING HOME!” he boomed.

Grandma Maple and Grandpa Bruno snapped awake, while Woody, Beanie, Nutmeg, Chestnut and Coco fell silent for a whole two seconds before they all leapt forward to ask the same question.

“Can I have my own room?” they pleaded. “PLEEEEEEASSSE!”

“Yes,” smiled Papa Brown. “You may have your own chamber.”

“Who?” asked Beanie and Woody, wondering which of their siblings they would no longer have to share with. “Who’s getting their own room?”

“I should get it!” said Chestnut. “Nutmeg snores!”

“I should get it!” said Nutmeg. “Chestnut farts!”

“I should get it!” demanded Coco. “I’m the eldest and by far the prettiest!”

“Actually, all five of you will have your own chambers,” Papa smiled proudly. “And there will be one for me and Mama, and another for Grandma and Grandpa, and one left over!”

Now he had his family’s undivided attention, Papa Brown told everyone about the enormous den he’d found abandoned upstream, waving his paws about as he described the grand scale and sprawling layout of their brand-new home. It was called Cottonwood Lodge and was a mud-caked mansion compared to the cramped conditions they currently lived in. They would be swapping three small chambers with three narrow connecting tunnels for eight large chambers with a network of six wide tunnels, and an indoor splash pool, and mooring pad, and a mudslide and storage galore!

“Who used to live there?” asked Mama Brown, eyes glazing over as she began mentally decorating with sludge, twigs and the finest moss, while allocating chambers and stores for their supplies.

“I found out from a passing river rat that the lodge belonged to a beaver and his wife and their ten little kits,” said Papa. The otters gathered round, bright eyes sparkling as they imagined their new home. “He built extension after extension as his family grew, but eventually there were just too many children to fit, so they had to move on.”

“That was one busy beaver!” said Mama Brown.

“When are we going?” asked Coco. She was keen to have her own room where she could tend to her appearance all day long, away from annoying brothers and sisters who rubbed her fur up the wrong way.

“With prime property like that we don’t want anyone else moving in, so there’s no time to lose,” said Papa. “We will head off first thing in the morning, which means you should all get an early night.”

There was a snuffle from the corner of the chamber where Grandpa Bruno and Grandma Maple had already made a head start, having fallen asleep in a cosy cuddle.

“There’s a lot of packing to do,” said Mama. “So we’ll be relying on you all to be responsible for your own bedding and anything else you want to take with us.”

“Yes, Mama!” the otters said excitedly and dashed off to gather their few belongings before their last night of sharing a chamber. And for the first time ever there were no arguments between the brothers and sisters because they were too excited about the new home. They were all lost in their own thoughts about what their new chambers would be like.

Coco imagined sitting in her room, smoothing her fur dreamily.

Chestnut imagined a room with no Nutmeg and no snoring.

Nutmeg imagined a room with no Chestnut and no farting.

And Beanie imagined daydreaming all day and having midnight feasts on her own.

Woody simply looked forward to having his own space, a place without warring twins or a vain big sister who was always in a mood. Beanie was no trouble at all, but it would be nice to have a room where he could have other pups over to play. He couldn’t wait to tell his best friend—

“Sooty!” gasped Woody, suddenly realising that moving upstream to another section of the river would mean leaving his friend behind. It was hard enough meeting up now with their dens on opposite banks of the river, but the extra distance would make it impossible for the young pups to see each other.

Woody leapt out of bed and hurried to his parents’ chamber, which was empty, so he swam out of the den and up to the surface to find the riverbank full of thin branches and reeds. Mama and Papa were busy building rafts by moonlight.

“I don’t want to move upriver!” he said. “I want to stay here.”

“Why would you want to stay in this tiny den when you can live at Cottonwood Lodge?” asked Papa, bending the thin branches and tying them with riverweed. “Don’t you want to have your own room any more?”

“I do,” sighed Woody, sitting down heavily on the bank. “It’s just that Sooty lives on the other side of the river and I don’t want to leave him behind.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will understand,” said Mama, setting her weaving aside to stroke Woody’s head. “And when we’re all settled you can invite him to come and stay with us. There will be plenty of room in the new place and you can show him around the neighbourhood.”

“Can Sooty really come and stay?” asked Woody, feeling excited again.

“Of course,” said Papa. “The more the merrier!”

“Now hurry off to bed,” said Mama. “We’re all going on a very big adventure tomorrow, but moving home is hard work so everyone needs a good night’s sleep.”

“Yes, Mama!” said Woody.

The young pup dived into the river with a splash and scurried back to his chamber where his siblings were all sleeping soundly. Woody was now more excited than ever about the move because he could explore a whole new section of river with his best friend and have sleepovers too. He could just imagine Sooty’s face when he told him about the indoor splash pool and the mudslide at Cottonwood Lodge. What fun they were going to have together!

“Can I take this rock?” panted Chestnut, heaving a small boulder above the waterline, legs paddling frantically as he fought to stay afloat.

“Like there won’t be rocks where we’re going,” Nutmeg sighed sarcastically, tossing her collection of clamshells on the raft. “What’s so special about that one?”

“It’s my favourite rock for smashing shellfish,” said Chestnut, cradling his rock like a baby and stroking it lovingly. “I really don’t think I can live without it.”

“You can take it if you carry it,” said Papa.

“Never mind,” shrugged Chestnut, and he hurled it over his shoulder.

The rock landed in a puddle on the bank and sent a great muddy SPLASH all over Coco, who had just come to the end of her lengthy morning grooming ritual.

“MY FUR!” she shrieked. “MY BEAUTIFUL, WATERPROOF FUR!” She dived into the water after Chestnut, who raced round in circles until his big sister got tired and gave up the chase.

“Can I ride on the big raft?” asked Beanie, packing the last of her snacks away with the food stores. She then took a handful back to cram in her mouth. “The one with all the bedding on it.”

“That’s for Grandma and Grandpa,” said Papa. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “They’re a bit too old to swim against the current and they keep falling asleep.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my hearing,” said Grandpa Bruno, grey whiskers bristling indignantly. “And for your information I used to swim this river twice a day when I was your age.”

“What are they saying?” asked Grandma Maple, lifting a horn-shaped hearing-shell up to her ear. There was nothing wrong with her hearing either, she just liked to pretend there was so she could eavesdrop more effectively.

“They think we’re too old to swim against the current!” yelled Grandpa Bruno.

“We are too old to swim against the current!” Grandma yelled back, elbowing her husband in the ribs. “Now help me on to that nice big raft with all the comfy bedding. I feel like a nap.”

“Twice a day I’d swim this river,” Grandpa mumbled to himself as he hopped on to the raft piled high with grass and moss and hauled his wife up after him. “Back when I was in training…”

“I know you did,” said Grandma, patting her husband’s paw.

Further along the bank, Woody had finished packing his collection of amusingly shaped pebbles and was helping to load the last of the food stores, while keeping a constant vigil on the opposite bank. He was hoping to catch sight of Sooty before they left because there was no time to cross the river and tell him the news in person.

“I’m sure your friend will understand when you explain that we had to move fast before another family nabbed Cottonwood Lodge,” said Mama, packing down the supplies and tying the rafts together. “And we can send word back by river rat as soon as we get there.”

Woody knew his mama was right and decided to focus on the adventure ahead. The young pup had never moved house before – he’d never even been that far up the river – and he was sure Sooty wouldn’t want him to miss out on all the fun.

“The current is picking up,” yelled Papa, standing on a log with his tail dangling in the water. By wiggling his bottom, he was able to test the exact tug and flow of the river. “It’s now or never, otters!”

Papa dived into the water and pulled up the rock anchors of the rafts so they began to drift out across the river, while Mama swam up and down, organising the moving party. Grandma Maple and Grandpa Bruno were perched on the bedding on the central raft and everyone else was in the water, positioned at different points along the train of smaller rafts.

“Goodbye, old home,” said Beanie. “We will miss you.”

“I won’t miss sharing a room with you lot!” scoffed Coco.

“And I won’t miss snoring sisters!” said Chestnut.

“I definitely won’t miss farting brothers!” said Nutmeg.

“New home, here we come!” yelled Woody.

“HOORAY!” cheered the Browns as they began their journey, all swimming together and pushing the chain of reedy rafts up the river as they headed for a whole new world.

That whole new world and their new home were only some hundred metres upriver. In fact, they could have seen Cottonwood Lodge from their old home if they had stood on a rock and looked in that general direction. Still, it was a huge adventure for the family and everyone was very excited.

Things got even more exciting just a few moments later when the river quickened, the rafts broke their tethers and each of them floated away in a different direction, spinning and bobbing like rubber ducks in a whirlpool.

“HOLD ON TO THE NEAREST RAFT!” yelled Papa, who was gripping the bedding raft with Grandma and Grandpa. He was swimming with all his might to keep it moving upstream and not get carried off by the current.

The smaller store rafts that had spread out were now divided between the Browns. Mama had one, the twins had another and Beanie and Woody shared the third, leaving Coco one all to herself. The otters were swimming hard to push the rafts upstream. All except Coco, who perched on top of hers, busily flattening down her fringe, completely unaware that she was drifting away from her family on the ever-increasing rapids.

“COCO!” yelled Mama. “GET OFF THAT RAFT!”

“I don’t want to get wet,” the otter sighed wearily, and only then looked up to see that she had left the convoy and was floating quickly downstream. Coco perched on the edge of the raft and gazed fearfully into the rushing water.

“JUMP!” cried Mama. “Don’t worry about the supplies!”

“I’m not,” huffed Coco. “But I’ve just dried my fur!”

“JUMP IN RIGHT NOW, YOUNG LADY!” Mama shouted sternly.

Coco rolled her eyes and dived into the water, paws paddling frantically, so it took her no time to catch up with the otter flotilla.

“Is everyone still with us?” asked Papa. He climbed on to the bedding raft, looking out to count heads along the three remaining smaller vessels. Mama and the five young otters were all present and accounted for, and all they had lost was one raft of food.

“HOORAY!” cheered the Browns, who like most otters were generally optimistic and preferred to look on the bright side. Only Beanie still looked fretful and raised a paw to get Papa’s attention.

“It’s OK, Beanie,” Papa said kindly. “We won’t run out of food.”

“I wasn’t thinking about the food,” she frowned, even though she had been thinking about the lost supply raft moments earlier. “I was just wondering where Grandma had gone.”

Everyone looked up at the top of the bedding raft to see Grandpa Bruno fast asleep on his back, who just then snuffled awake and said, “Are we there yet?” Then he stared, wide-eyed, at the empty space beside him.

“Nobody panic; she can’t have gone very far,” said Papa, scratching his head and looking up and down the river. “Now, I don’t think she could have fallen off the raft…”

“I didn’t hear a splash,” said Mama.

“And there are no giant eagles in these parts that might have carried her away,” said Papa, looking at the sky and scratching his chin. “Not that I know of, anyway.”

“Everyone be quiet,” said Grandpa Bruno. “I hear snoring.”

“Are you sure it’s not Nutmeg?” said Chestnut.

“Shut up, farty bottom!” said Nutmeg.

“SHHHH!” hissed everyone else.

The Brown family held their breath as Grandpa Bruno crouched down and pressed his head against the tall heap of bedding. Then he started digging in the wet grass and moss and hauled Grandma Maple back up to the surface, where she continued to snore, not realising that she’d been lost and found again.

“Well, I think we’ve had our quota of bad luck, with runaway rafts and vanishing grannies!” chuckled Papa, standing up on the raft as the streamlined flotilla continued along the river. “So I have every reason to believe it will be plain sailing from now on.”

“HOORAY!” cheered the Browns for the third time that day.

Unfortunately, just as Papa was giving his speech, the raft passed under a low-hanging tree branch. The branch itself was high enough to clear easily, but the bees’ nest dangling from it collided with Papa’s head and joined the otters in their removals upstream. Unlike the otters, the bees rather liked where they were living, and were none too happy to get bashed off their branch on to a heap of wet grass that smelled like fish and elderly otters.

“BZZZZZ!” the bees buzzed angrily, pouring out of the nest. Then they gathered into a swarm and zoomed furiously towards the otters, who all squeaked in alarm and dived deep underwater before fleeing upstream.

With the rafts otter-free, the bees flew back to their branch and set about building a new nest, and without otters to propel them forward, the rafts quietly drifted back downstream too.

When the Browns finally arrived at their new home, they were a lot lighter than when they left, having first lost a raft of food, lost and found Grandma Maple and then lost everything else in a cloud of angry bees. But as they hauled themselves on to the sprawling island of twigs and branches that was Cottonwood Lodge, the family knew it had all been worth it.

“Now, don’t worry about our stuff,” panted Papa, standing at the entrance to the den and looking rather bedraggled. “We will find new bedding and build up our stores again in no time.”

“The important thing is that we made it here in one piece,” added Mama, staggering up to join her husband and wringing out her tail. “Now let’s catch our breath before we explore our new home!”

“HOORAY!” cheered the Browns, and they collapsed in a heap.

Moments later the otter family bustled through the main tunnel of the den in much the same way as they always did, with squeals of “OUCH!” and “EEEK!” and “OI! GET OFF MY HEAD!” But once they had all squeezed through the entrance, Cottonwood Lodge opened up into a spacious reception chamber, with a freshwater pool and mounds of moss for lounging around on. The chamber was lit through gaps in the twigs above and led off into many other tunnels, into which the Browns scampered excitedly to explore.

“Look at the size of these bed chambers!” gasped Mama, dashing with Papa from one room to the next, patting the mud-caked walls as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “The pups really can have one each!”

“I take it we’ll be getting rid of the beaver droppings?” said Grandma Maple, poking her head in after them and frowning at the mess on the floor.

“And there’s a whiff of wee that’s making my eyes water,” said Grandpa Bruno, flapping a paw in front of his nose. “Though it doesn’t smell like any beaver I’ve ever encountered.”

“It does need a good clean, but I think it’s wonderful!” said Mama, kissing Papa on the nose and giving him a cuddle. And because the grandparents were also secretly thrilled despite their gripes and grumbles, they did the same.

The four of them made their way back to the central chamber just as the pups returned from their own explorations. The little ones were wide-eyed and breathless, exhilarated by what they’d discovered.

“There’s a mooring pad and a log slide at the back!” yelled Woody, jumping up and down with excitement.