But don’t think for a moment that our troubles were over once Dailan Kifki had landed.
Nope.
They were only just beginning.
You have no idea how complicated it is to keep an elephant!
I’d advise you never to try keeping such a big creature—to be satisfied with a pussycat, instead, or a doggywog, or a tweetybird. It’s simpler, and cheaper, and after all, any one of those can be a most affectionate pet.
Well, as I was saying, Dailan Kifki landed, and drank up all his soup in one gulp, while the Fireman remained up on top, posing for the photographers and the news cameras.
The Fireman was so dizzy with his success that he hadn’t noticed what was happening to the soup.
But when he saw that Dailan Kifki had drunk it all for himself, what do you think he did? He started to cry!
I didn’t know what was wrong with him, so I asked the Captain of the Firemen, who answered:
“He’s feeling very sad-sad-sad that all the soup’s been had-had-had.”
“Oh, the shame!” I said. “Such a big, strong Fireman crying over a bit of an elephant’s lovely oats soup. Mister Captain, tell him to dismount and help us with all the many things we’ve got to do, instead of crying like a baby.”
So the Captain squared up in front of the Fireman, saluted and gave the order:
“Mister Fireman, don’t delay, get off that creature right away!”
But do you know what that ill-mannered Fireman replied?
“I won’t get off here if you yell. ’Cos I want my oats soup as well.”
“Can’t you see there’s none left?” I said.
Then my mother came over and said:
“Really, my girl, when you marry this Fireman, I think you’re going to have to make him lovely oats soup every blessed day.”
“I have no intention of marrying a cry-baby Fireman!” I replied.
The Fireman didn’t want to get down off Dailan Kifki’s head, so to prevent another escape I started removing the elephant’s wings.
I untied the ribbons, unstuck the bits of paper, and cut the pieces of twine, because if he kept the wings on I was sure they’d fly away again.
If only I hadn’t done that.
When Dailan Kifki realised I was taking off his wings he began to cry like twenty elephants who had peeled twenty tons of onions.
Naturally, before long the Manager of the Ituzaingó Post Office showed up, furiouser than ever, because the commotion had unstuck all the stamps again.
This business with the stamps was beginning to get on my nerves.