I pulled the covers well over my head, but couldn’t relax. My thoughts kept going back to what had happened earlier in the day. I could still hear a "grunt, grunt" from the pig that was stuck in the top of the apple tree outside my bedroom window.

The September weather was warm, the sun was shining, and it was difficult to concentrate on doing the washing up. At the point, Gisle*, the pig, came in. He is pink with black spots. I like Gisle because he is funny and he follows me around.
[* editor’s note – Gisle is a Norwegian boy’s name, and as it happens the name of a boy in Katie’s class]

I rescued Gisle last year from the next-door farm, when the farmer was going to shoot him because he was too little and no-one thought he would survive. I gave him some oats from the cupboard, which he gobbled up. Then he tried to chase me outside to play. "No, Gisle", I said, "I have to finish washing up". But he wouldn’t wait and pushed me towards the door. Eventually I gave up, dried my hands and followed him to the door. "I can finish the washing up later", I thought.

We played football for a while with an apple that was lying on the floor. It was fun. But then the apple suddenly vanished. Gisle was chewing something. "No Gisle", I said, "you mustn’t eat the ball". But it was too late. So we went over to the trampline to jump. Gisle enjoys this, but mostly because I do.

But then it happened. I landed on the trampoline just at the same moment as Gisle did and he flew into the air. And didn’t come down again. "Gisle", I called, "where are you?". "Grunt", he said from the roof. I think he thought it was funny, but I was worried.

I went to the garage and got the ladder. I put the ladder against the house wall and started climbing. "Gisle", I said, "come down here at once!". Gisle enjoys playing and began climbing further up the roof. I had to follow. It was fun on the roof. I could see all the way down to the lake. I could also see Mum driving her car home from work, but she was going to collect some milk from Gaute before she got home. I had about 20 minutes left to rescue Gisle and do the washing up.

But I didn’t have a lot of time to look around because Gisle was on the other side of the roof, looking at something. I had no idea what it was, but Gisle thought it was exciting, which I thought could not be good news. “What is it, Gisle?", I asked. But then I understood. It was the apple tree, full of juicy apples. With one big jump Gisle was in the tree and would not come down. Mum came home, the washing up was not done and Gisle was stuck up a tree, but I wasn’t stupid enough to mention that. I could rescue Gisle later.

But then it was bedtime. I lay there thinking about how I could get Gisle down from the tree tomorrow. There is an axe in the garage ...

Katie's original text

Den gongen eg hadde dårleg samvit

Eg drog dyna godt over hovudet, men eg klarte ikkje slappe av. Tankene gjekk heile tida tilbake til det som hadde hendt tidligare i dag. Eg kunne fremdeles høre ein "nuff, nuff" frå grisen som satt fast i toppen av epletreet utenfor vinduet mitt .

Det septemberværet var varmt, solen skinte, og det var vanskeleg å konsentrere seg på å gjere oppvasken. Då kom grisen Gisle inn. Han er rosa med svarte prikker. Eg liker Gisle fordi han er morsom og følger meg omkring.

Eg reddet Gisle i fjor fra nabogården, da bonden ville skyte han fordi han var for liten og ingen trodde at han ville overleve. Eg gav han noe havre frå skåpet, som han snufset i seg. Då prøvde han å jage meg ut for å leke. "Nei Gisle", sa eg, "eg må bli ferdig med å vaske opp". Men han ville ikkje vente og dyttet meg mot døra. Til slutt gav eg opp, tørket hendene og følgte han mot døra. "Eg kan gjøre ferdig oppvasken etterpå", tenkte eg.

Vi lekte fotball en stund med et eple som låg på gulvet. Det var moro. Men da forsvant plutseleg eplet. Gisle tygget på noe. "Nei Gisle", sa eg, "du må ikkje ete ballen". Men det var for sent. Då gjekk vi mot trampolinen for å hoppe. Gisle likte dette, men mest fordi eg gjorde det.

Men da skjedde det. Eg landet på trampolinen akkurat samen med at Gisle gjorde det og han fløy opp i lufta. Og kom ikkje ned igjen. "Gisle", ropte eg, "kor er du?". "Nuff", sa han fra hustaket. Eg tror han syntes det var gøy, men eg var bekymret.

Eg gjekk i garasjen og hentet stigen. Eg satte stigen opp mot husveggen og begynte å klatre. "Gisle", sa eg, "kom hit med en gang!". Gisle liker godt å leke og begynte å klatre lengre opp i taket. Då måtte eg følge etter. Det var gøy på taket. Eg kunne se heilt ned til vatenet og bilen til Mor som kom heim frå jobb, men ho skulle hente noe mjølk frå Gaute for ho kom heim.Eg hadde kun cirka 20 minutt å redde Gisle og gjøre oppvasken.

Men eg hadde ikkje mykkje tid å sjå på det som var rundt meg fordi Gisle var på den andre siden av taket og kunne sjå noko. Eg ante ikkje kva det var, men Gisle syntes det var spennende, og eg syntes dette ikkje var gode nyheter. "Kva er det, Gisle?" spurde eg. Men da skjønte eg. Det var epletreet, fullt av deilige epler. Med ein stor hopp var Gisle i treet og ville ikkje komme ned. Mor kom heim, oppvasken var ikkje ren og Gisle var i treet, men eg var ikkje dum nok å sie om det. Gisle kunne eg redde senere.

Men da var det leggetid. Eg låg og tenkte hvordan eg kunne få Gisle ned fra treet i morgen. Det ligger jo ein øks i garasjen ...