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.”