By now I expect you all know, or have heard, that the cow jumped over the Moon.

I know, you know, we all know. We know about the cat and his fiddle, how the little dog laughed, and even how the dish ran away with the spoon. And yet if I were to ask you who first landed on the Moon you would say ‘Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin’.

Why?

Why is it that we talk about the first man on the moon and not the first cow? History sure has a peculiar way of picking and choosing the stories it wants us to believe.

Well, this is the story of that REAL first Moon landing. It’s the story of a little dog, a cat and yes,
even a dish and a spoon. It all began on a quiet farm on the very edge of Storyland.

On this farm, there was a cow and e-i-e-i-oh I almost forgot… the farm belonged Old MacDonald. Yes. That’s right. It did.

Old MacDonald had a farm and e-i-e-i-oh I forgot something else…

On this farm there was a dog and e-i-e-i-oh I forgot something else…

On this farm there was a cat and e-i-e-i-oh I forgot ANOTHER THING…

On this farm there was a dish and a spoon and…

That was all.

As I said, it was a quiet farm.

There was a moo-moo here and a moo-moo there.

There was a woof-woof here and a woof-woof there.

There was a meow-meow here and a meow-meow there.

There was a… a… well, the dish and the spoon didn’t make much noise, although there may have been a clatter-clatter here and a clatter-clatter there but only in the evening when Old MacDonald wanted to tell everyone that supper was ready. That was their one job: to make a racket. Imagine once being used to hold perfect puddings and sumptuous soups but then being cast outside and used as a drum? They must not have been very happy at all but the truth is that’s all they did. For the rest of the day, the dish and the spoon lay fading outside in the sunshine and watching the cow who liked to lie beneath the old oak tree.

The old oak tree was the only tree on the farm so it was the best place to be during the day. It
was, in fact, the best place to be at any time and the cow never moved from her very comfortable spot beneath it. Nothing could move the cow from this spot. In fact, nothing could MOO-VE her. And so one day, when it was raining especially hard, the cat with the fiddle gazed at the cow and wished oh wished oh WISHED he could have just one little turn under the tree.

To be dry just for a little while, he said quietly to himself. How splendid that would be. He shook
the water from his fur and was just about to find somewhere else to rest when he heard a voice.

You should make her move, the voice said.

And another voice agreed.

Oh yes, it’s not fair—her taking up the best spot on the farm.

The cat with the fiddle looked around but there was nobody to be seen.

I wonder how I could move the cow, he said out loud. Not that I would. Oh no not I. But if only it would rain and rain, the rain might wash the cow away—just like Incy Wincy Spider.

No, thought the Cat, I should leave the cow. She’s happy where she is and I can find somewhere else to rest.

Which is exactly what he did.

Now it just so happened that the next day, when it was far too hot, the little dog gazed at the cow and wished oh wished oh WISHED he could have just one little turn under the tree. To be cool and shaded just for a little while, he said quietly to himself. How splendid that would be. He
drank the last few drops of rainwater collected in the dish and was just about to find somewhere else to rest when he heard a voice.

You should make her move, the voice said.

And another voice agreed.

Oh yes, it’s not fair—her taking up the best spot on the farm.

The little dog looked around but couldn’t see anyone.

I wonder how I could move the cow, he said out loud. Not that I would. Oh no not I. But if only I could huff and puff and other stuff – just like the Big Bad Wolf.

No, thought the Dog, I should leave the cow. She’s happy where she is and I can find somewhere else to rest.

Which is exactly what he did.

The next day it was neither too hot not too wet but the wind was out and as the cat with the fiddle gazed at the cow sheltering beneath the old oak tree he found himself saying, I wish the cow would just move for a while.

The little dog was walking past and heard what the cat with the fiddle had said. I couldn’t agree more, said the little dog. You and I could sit there quite comfortably if only she would move.

I thought I might ask the rain to wash her away, said the cat with the fiddle.

That’s a good idea, said a voice that did not sound exactly like the little dog’s.

It was an awful idea, said the cat with the fiddle.

I thought about asking the wolf to huff and puff her away, said the little dog.

That’s a brilliant idea! said a voice that was definitely not the cat’s.

It was an awful idea, said the little dog.

The cat and the little dog gazed longingly at the cow sat beneath the tree but neither creature had any idea of how to make her move. They were about to leave the whole thing alone when a pair of voices that were neither the cat nor the dog’s shouted, FIDDLESTICKS! which gave the
cat with his fiddle a brilliant idea.

Now before we go ANY FURTHER let me say this: I don’t mean to lay the blame for this solely at the feet (or rather the paws) of that cat and his fiddle but whilst music has been known to have a powerful effect on all kinds of things it doesn’t usually send cows to the Moon.

Unless it’s the kind of music a cat with a fiddle plays. Cat music, if you haven’t heard it, is awful.

What’s the worst sound you can imagine? Is it the sound of nails on chalkboards, or the sound of balloons being rubbed? Is it the sound of the bell at the end of school when really you want to stay in class learning and learning? Or perhaps it’s the sound of your name, YOUR FULL NAME, being called because you know you are IN TROUBLE?

Well, cat music is like all of these things put into a blender, chopped into bits, then swallowed and spat out again. As I say, cat music is awful.

It’s awful enough to get anyone out of bed and it is certainly awful enough to frighten a cow so much that she jumped out of her skin, back into her skin, and then up and over the Moon.

The cat and the little dog waited until evening after the farmer had called feeding time by banging the spoon against the dish then they crept to where the cow lay sleeping under the old
oak tree and… TWANG! WHINE! SCREECH!

Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle
the cow jumped over the Moon
 the little dog laughed to see such fun
 and…
 THE DISH RAN AWAY WITH THE SPOON.

As the cat with his fiddle and the little dog watched on the cow flew up, up, up into the starry night and from out of nowhere the dish and the spoon appeared and ran to the spot where she had been sitting.

It’s ours, said the dish and the spoon.

What have we done? said the little dog, when he realised what had happened.

We have been tricked by the dish and the spoon and now the poor cow has jumped over the Moon, said the cat.

Only the poor cow hadn’t quite jumped OVER the Moon because as they looked up into the starry night they saw that the poor cow was stuck on the pointy part of the crescent Moon.

We must get her down, said the little dog.

The little dog and the cat both thought hard until the cat had another brilliant idea!

Let’s sing to her, he said.

The cat picked up his fiddle.

Not the fiddle, said the little dog.

The cat put down his fiddle.

And together they sang …

Rock-a-bye baby
You seem to be stuck
as our song goes
your cradle will rock.

As they sang (and the cat thankfully mimed because his singing was as awful as his fiddle playing) the Moon began to gently rock, first one way and then the other but neither the Little Dog or the Cat had thought how the song would finish.

When our song ends
your cradle will fall,
 then down you will come
 moonbeams and all.

The Moon rocked one way and then the other and then rocked itself out of the sky and down to the ground it came with a…

CRUNCH!

Oh dear, said the little dog.

The cow was sound asleep snuggled down in the crook of the Moon which now lay upon a broken old dish and a broken old spoon and beneath the old oak tree.

Look, said the cat. The moon on a spoon.

So that’s it, the real true story of the first moon landing and of course the cow, the cat and the dog all lived happily ever after but as the cat and the dog skipped off into the farmhouse leaving the cow sitting under the old oak tree they sang one last song and it went like this..

Old MacDonald had a farm e-i-e-i-o
with a screech screech here and a screech screech there,
a moo moo here and a moo moo there
a crunch crunch here and a crunch crunch there
e-i-e-i-o!!!!

If you enjoyed this and would like to support my work then please…

This story was written for an extraordinary storyteller called John Kirk. John asked me to write something about nursery rhymes and space and that got me thinking about the cow jumping over the moon. I’ve seen John perform this story and it is amazing to watch him bring it to life and make it so much more than I ever could. You can visit John’s website here: http://www.john-kirk.co.uk/ and I really do hope you get to watch him perform in your school or library (or living room).