Mr Taylor Probably a polar bear was not a good choice for my first attempt at whittling. A hamster would have been simpler and avoided the multiple leg fractures.. “Don’t worry girl, no problem”, Mr Taylor said, when I showed it to him. “Leave it to me. Bit o plastic wood, That’ll soon sort it” and it did. The tail was more challenging. But all was not lost, just the tail, and I managed to convince the Examiner that polar bears don’t have tails. Maybe they don’t. I’m no expert. I progressed slowly, and probably a rocking elephant was not the best choice for my Final Piece. There was a lot to cut out, a lot of curvy bits. The huge electric saw bench loomed ominously in the corner. “Don’t you go near that, girl” cried Mr Taylor if I glanced in it’s direction. “Here, give it here, Leave it to me. There you are. Now just a bit o plastic wood...” And then disaster! Someone stole the rockers. Who the fuck would steal my rockers? They never rocked very well, but even so, they we