Chapter 12

The Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs

*

Dorothy was awakened by a cold wet nose nuzzling her arm. She heard a voice say, "Move over please, move over." The nose and the voice belonged to a round, bright yellow furry ball with huge round dark brown liquid eyes.

"Who are you?" inquired Dorothy.

"The name of my species," replied the animal tartly, "is Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug. Would you move over please? You're blocking the entrance to my home."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Dorothy, sitting up.

"That's quite all right," said the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug. "No harm done." The Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug promptly disappeared into a hole under a large clump of grass. He reappeared a moment later and looked quizzically at Dorothy. "Would you care to have tea with me? It's not too often that I have a guest for tea."

"Why thank you. I'd love to," replied Dorothy. "But I'm afraid I'm too big."

"Oh, dear," said the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug. "I hadn't thought of that. Well," he said brightly, "we'll soon take care of that problem. Just stay right where you are." He disappeared again, and this time returned with a bright yellow tablecloth and a bright yellow picnic basket. He then laid out the tablecloth on the grass, opened up the picnic basket, and handed Dorothy a bright yellow cup and saucer. He then returned to his hole and reappeared promptly with a bright yellow teapot on a bright yellow tray. "Would you care for milk and sugar?" he asked as he poured her tea.

"Just a little of each, thank you," replied Dorothy, helping herself from a bright yellow milk jug and a bright yellow sugar bowl. "My, you certainly like yellow," said Dorothy as she sipped her tea.

"Of course," replied the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug without explaining further.

"I'm surprised that you don't make your home in Colorland in the Yellow Belt," said Dorothy. "I would think you'd be right at home there."

"Oh, no," answered the little creature emphatically. "That would be too much for us Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs, but we do visit there twice each week. You see," he explained, "we Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs must absorb a great deal of yellow if we are to keep our pretty yellow fur. Otherwise it would fade very quickly to a dirty brown color like the other animals. We are very proud of our color; we surround ourselves with yellow so that we constantly absorb it."

"I see," said Dorothy thoughtfully. "Well, I must admit it is a very bright happy cheerful color."

"Yes indeed," replied the little creature. "That is why we Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs have such bright, happy cheerful dispositions -- which is just as well, I might add. You see, some of the other animals don't like us; they are quite jealous of our bright yellow color, and can be quite hurtful at times."

"I'm so sorry," said Dorothy. "But you are so nice, why would anyone want to be hurtful?"

"Well, unfortunately, they only see our color; they don't see the person. We are personalities just like them, but they don't choose to see beyond our color, so they won't have much to do with us. Why, just the other day, my little girl was playing at school with a little brown girl bear she had become friends with, when the other bigger brown bears took the little girl brown bear aside and said, 'Why are you playing with that Yellow Wogglebug?' My little girl's friend said, 'Because she's very nice to me, and we're friends.' 'Well, don't mix with those Yellow Wogglebugs,' they told her. 'Play with your own kind.' So now the little brown girl bear and my little girl are quite sad and, needless to say, lonely, because they liked each other more than anyone else at school."

"You know," said Dorothy, "the bigger brown bears that told the little girl brown bear not to play with your little girl are the ones I feel sorry for."

"Sorry for them?" exclaimed the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug in surprise. "Why would you be sorry for them?"

"Well, they are the real losers," said Dorothy, "for they must go through life with all that hatred and resentment inside them. Not very conducive to becoming a happy well-adjusted person."

"You show great insight for one so young," said the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug. "What you say is so true. Yet many people fail to see it."

"It seems to me they don't want to," said Dorothy.

"But why not?" asked the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug. "Do they prefer to be miserable?"

"It appears that way, doesn't it? I was just discussing this with my friends. People are often their own worst enemy. They are at the mercy of their thoughts, so to speak. They do not make a concentrated effort to control their thoughts, so their thoughts control them."

"You talk as if thoughts have a mind of their own," said the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug.

"In a way they do," replied Dorothy. "Of course, people's thoughts revolve around themselves a great deal, since our main concerns are to do with our own physical comfort. After all, everyone wants to be warm and dry, and to be well fed and secure. So our thoughts, quite naturally, center on our own feelings. But as a consequence, we can become self-centered, even selfish. Some people can take selfishness to the point of depriving others of their basic needs so they can acquire more for themselves. A good example of this is a Dictator of a country amassing for himself a fortune, while the majority of his people are starving to death. Or a business which is not satisfied with a reasonable rate of return, but extracts an exorbitantly high profit at the expense of people who are struggling to make ends meet. Now, there is nothing wrong with using one's own talents to make a pleasant life for one's self; to acquire a nice home, and to have an abundant life, for we are meant to enjoy life. But this abundant and joyous life cannot come by taking from others what is not rightfully ours to take; but can only come by maintaining a fair exchange of each other's goods and services, and by leaving the element of greed out of all transactions. Thoughts that are greedy thoughts are our mortal enemy."

"Do you know," said the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug, "that thoughts have shapes?"

"They do?" said Dorothy in surprise. "That I didn't know."

"Oh yes, as a matter of fact, the area around the Wicked Witch's castle is called /'Negativethoughtland./' Negative thoughts are, as you know, the worst kind of thoughts there are; so you can imagine what monstrous thoughts must dwell around that castle, just laying in wait for unsuspecting travelers."

"You mean you can see them?" asked Dorothy, her eyes getting big.

"Oh, yes," answered the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug. "You see, every thought you think is a new creation, so it has to go somewhere and do something. Now, if it is a good thought, like, say...."

"Like I'm thinking right now," said Dorothy. "That I love my Aunt Em, and that I wish I was with her."

"Yes," said the Wogglebug. "That thought is a thought of love and will go right to your Aunt Em and help to make her feel good."

"What does that thought look like?" asked Dorothy.

"It looks like a soft crimson projectile like a comet. When it hits your Aunt Em, it will burst and shower her with little explosions of pure love."

"That sounds beautiful," said Dorothy. "Can you tell me the shapes of some other thoughts and what their effects are?"

"When you go to Negativethoughtland, you will see some awful shapes; they are visible to everyone there."

"Can they hurt me?" asked Dorothy anxiously.

"They cannot come near light," said the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug. "In fact, light dissolves them. But if you have a lot of negative thoughts yourself, you will attract them to you and they will make you more negative; so you must think positive thoughts. Be happy, optimistic and cheerful; loving and kind. And as long as you do that, these negative thoughts will never come near you -- for they cannot stand the light that positive thoughts are made of. So when you go through Negativethoughtland, visualize light all around you -- this will protect you. Learn to do that every day as you walk to school. Put light around your house in Kansas every night. Be enthusiastic. Face each day with determination and know that you can master any problem that the day may bring. As you go through life you will face many difficulties ... but everything's not going to happen to you all at once. So just take one day at a time and do the best you can with that day -- that's all that is expected of you. Each day that you live, you can be earning your way to a better place -- a better life. But you must do the earning yourself; you must do the work. No one else can do it for you."

"What you are saying makes a lot of sense," said Dorothy. "When I get back to Kansas, they're going to see a new me."

"Well," said the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug, "that's very commendable; but don't set too high a standard for yourself. Don't say, 'I'm going to be perfect,' or 'I'll never lose my temper again,' or 'I'll never do this or that again.' Just say 'I'm going to do my best; but if I make a mistake, I'll try to do better next time.' At least you will be trying to control your thoughts and emotions, and that's half the battle right there."

"You know, Mr. Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug," smiled Dorothy, "you may not have much of an education, but you have a great deal of wisdom and understanding. Some educated people don't have that."

"Why thank you, Dorothy," replied the Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug. "I suppose I do try to compensate for my lack of education by thinking about things. It's good to think, don't you agree?"

"Oh, yes," answered Dorothy. "One should always take the time to quietly think about things. By the way, may I ask you a question?"

"You may indeed," replied the Wogglebug.

"Well, this is sort of a personal question," said Dorothy.

"That's quite all right," replied the Wogglebug. "What is it?"

"Well, it's about your name," answered Dorothy.

"What about my name? Don't you like it?" asked the Wogglebug kindly.

"Oh, yes I do," replied Dorothy. "I love your name. But I just wondered what /Woggle/ meant. And you are not a bug, exactly."

"Oh, that's easy to explain," said the Wogglebug. "You see, in ancient times, the Oz word for work was woggle; and in those days, we were the workhorses of Oz, so to speak. We worked mainly in the fields. We harvested the wheat and the corn, the rye, et cetera. Our daily pay was six pennies and a pocket full of rye or wheat -- whatever we were harvesting at the time (of course, money is no longer necessary in Oz, as you know) and you're right, we're not bugs at all. We're animals; anyway, we came to be known as Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs and that name is now our official title. Also, we are on good terms with the commonly-known Wogglebug insects, and consider it an honor to share the name with those industrious creatures. Would you like to hear the famous Wogglebug song? We used to sing it in the fields while we worked, and it's still very popular today."

"Oh, I'd love to hear it," replied Dorothy enthusiastically.

The Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug cleared his throat and said, "It goes like this." He began to sing in a beautiful, rich baritone voice:

"I'm a Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug, I woggle all day long, I woggle in the morning, at night I sing my song. I sing a song of sixpence, with a pocket full of rye, I'm a Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug, I'll woggle 'til I die. I'm a Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebug, I'll woggle 'til I die -- hey!"

As he finished the last line, about fifty Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs came out of their little mounds and started to sing and dance:

"We're Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs, we woggle all day long, We woggle in the morning, at night we sing our song. We sing a song of sixpence with a pocket full of rye, We're Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs, we'll woggle 'til we die. We're Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs, we'll woggle 'til we die -- Hey!"

When the other yellow Wogglebugs finished singing, they all turned to Dorothy, and said shyly, "Nice to have met you, Dorothy." Then they all disappeared back into their little mounds. Dorothy turned to her little Wogglebug friend, but he had disappeared, too. She bent down and tapped at his little door. The door opened, and the yellow wogglebug's face appeared.

"I didn't mean to be rude, Dorothy. But I must get recharged. My yellow is beginning to fade, and I wouldn't want you to see me without my yellow. I'd just be plain old ordinary brown."

"Oh, that's all right," said Dorothy. "I'd love you just as much -- no matter what your color. It's you I love, you know."

"I know," said the Wogglebug. "But I wouldn't feel myself without my yellow color."

"I understand," sighed Dorothy. "Well, it's been a great pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again very soon."

"Thank you, Dorothy," said the little creature. "I hope so, too. Very much." He reached up and kissed Dorothy on the nose; then disappeared inside his house.

*