Verona Strauss.comjust because life is fun! …

My friend Buzza with his broken wings

When Daddy was tidying the annexe he saw a bee. He decided to catch it and put it outside. I got my fishing net to catch him.

When I captured him, I realised he could not fly; he could only crawl.

I saw that bits had been torn from his wings and one of his back wings was missing.

I took him down to my Wendy house to take care of him because I knew that if he could only crawl he might die. I called him Buzza

I put some thyme for him to eat and a bit later on, I makde him a bed from wood and some grass in it for him to sleep in. Later in that day I rescued another bee from my swimming pool; I think it was a worker bee.

The worker bee stayed with me for an hour before drying out and flying off.

The next day I checked on Buzza and he was looking better. The day I found him he couldn’t crawl up the sides of his box, but by the second day he could. I felt pleased that he was recovering.

I saw him feed from the thyme plant; he seemed to really enjoy it. He crawled onto a stick at the end of the plant. Then his body slipped and he was left hanging on by one leg.  I was going to get my rubber gloves to help him, but I was laughing so hard I couldn’t get them in time and he fell off. I don’t think he hurt himself because he crawled to the thyme plant again for more food.

I put down some water; very shallow so that he couldn’t drown, and he crawled into it for a drink.

By the third day he was still revovering well. That afternoon I went out to playrangers and Brownies; When I came home, the first thing I did was go and check on Buzza.

What I saw when I first got into the wendy house was Buzza lying dead on his side. I felt really upset and was crying when I told Mummy what had happened.

That evening I decided to bury him. I got an old trowel, a tiny towel about the size of two fingers and a small piece of wood. I dug a hole and called Mummy and Daddy to watch Buzza be buried. I wrapped him up in the towel and put him inside the hole. When I covered him up I told Mummy and Daddy to send good wishes to him.

We all said our good wishes and I put the earth back in and put grass back on top. Afterwards I made a wooden grave to remember him. It said

• ‘Buzza; died on Wednesday. Do not disturb’
  and I drew some hearts on it.

The rain has not yet washed away what I wrote and I hope it never will.

I loved taking care of Buzza. He was friendly towards me and he understood every single thing I showed him. When I made his den I showed him it and he went inside straight away and buried himself in the grass. And when I showed him the water, he crawled straight over and had a drink. That’s what I liked so much about Buzza.

Everything that dies, because I don’t believe in God, turns into a bundle of joy which looks like lots of sparks. A white dove collects the sparks and the animal turns into a new animal in fairyland. Children turn into fairies and animals turn into small fairy animals.