Every Picture Tells a Story

Lost or Strayed by Briton Riviere

What can you see? What do you think is happening?

Are you inspired?

If you have a tale, then tell us your story! It can be as short or as long as you like but no more than 400 words! We will select stories to appear on our website. These will be regularly updated.

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Email your story to artgallery@cheltenham.gov.uk

If you prefer you can send a copy of your story to:
Cheltenham Art Gallery & Museum
Clarence Street, Cheltenham GL50 3JT


Lost or Strayed?

It was a damp winter’s day in 1858 and spying from the crowd I observed pickpockets at work in the busy Cheltenham street. It was market day, carriages carrying rich ladies and horse drawn trams with their passengers were going up and down the street. The gas lamps had just been put out with the first grey light of morning.
My master spotted a gang of pickpockets going towards the carriage of Queen Victoria and letting me off my lead to catch them, I ran towards the leader and grabbed his trouser leg pulling him to the ground. The pickpockets leaped on me and threw me over Queen Victoria’s carriage. I looked around and couldn’t see my master. Was I lost I wondered?

I started looking for my master but I couldn’t see him so I began wandering around feeling scared and lonely. All of a sudden Queen Victoria’s carriage rounded the corner and she got out, picked me up and took me into her warm carriage and took me back to London where she kept me as her pet dog. She took me out for walks every day, fed me very scrumptious food and gave me a very comfortable bed. After a while, I forgot about my master and Cheltenham and I was living happily in the palace and I still live there today.

By Oliver Norris, aged 8. August 2015

One day, on a bright summer’s afternoon, just as the sun was turning a fiery Orange and the first few clouds were turning pink, Casper was curled up like the wind of the Arctic had just hit London. He was preparing for the journey. The journey that would change his life!

He had just finished his last bowl of “Dentist Sticks” when he reached up at the wooden door knob, and quietly turned it. As he stepped out onto the gravel path one more time, he thought about what he was about to do. He hesitated, but left.

As he ran through the Forest that his owner had taken him when he was a helpless puppy, a hint of sadness glittered in his sparkling eye. But he dared on, trying not to look back.

As he got to the busy town of London he saw carriages, sailors and Ladies in fine silk skirts. When he turned round, there was a pack of stray dogs watching him, carefully, with their bright red eyes. All of a sudden the pack of dogs slowly walked towards him about to pounce. Casper started galloping away helplessly. The pack followed. This wasn’t a game of tag, it was a dogfight. Casper’s heart was pounding so hard, that he could hear it over the noisy crowd around him. As Casper turned around the corner and into the crowd, the pack were getting closer and closer, Casper knew that he couldn’t last much longer. Behind him, one of the dogs nearly got a bite of his tail, what could he do? Where could he go? Casper sped up a bit trying to lose the pack, but his legs felt like jelly on a plate. Just then, a familiar figure came over and told the pack “Shoo, Shoo, you little rascals” then she turned the conversation over to Casper. “Boy, were have you been? You’ve scared me to death!” Casper knew who she was. She was his owner.

By Alex, aged 11

I remember, busy traffic along the road. I remember all that noise, all that dullness and misery, it was different from my usual home. I remember getting into that carriage, not thinking it was the right thing to do, I ate that meat, then found a spare seat and fell asleep for an hour or two. The memory of getting out of that carriage not knowing where I was. And I thought that was the end of me.

My head was shaking, my body was shivering, my eyes glowed brightly in a very petrified fright and my heart thumped with pain. Towers so high as I looked to the sky, I didn't know what to do. Then there was, the clattering of hooves and the stamping of shoes, and especially the shouting of humans, was not like my usual home. Was I lost or strayed? I don't know...

By Rhianna, aged 9

Open daily 9.30am - 5.15pm
(Closed 25 & 26 December 2013 and 1 January 2014)

Admission free

Cheltenham Art Gallery & Museum
Clarence Street
GL50 3JT
Tel: 01242 237431