Gargantua and Titanic came lumbering up toward their daughter. They were dripping wet and covered in mud and waterweed.
“Whatever was that you were talking to, Banty?” her mother asked.
“A pterodactyl, Ma. A young one. He’s nice.”
“Nice!” said Gargantua. “I’m surprised at you, speaking to such a creature. You don’t know where it’s been.”
“Dirty things they are,” rumbled Titanic.
“Nosy isn’t dirty, Pa,” said Banty.
“Oh,” said Gargantua, “so we’re on first-name terms already, are we?”
“He can hang upside down, Ma,” said Banty.
“Hang upside down!” said her mother in tones of horror. “Well, there you are! How can it possibly keep clean?”
“What d’you mean, Ma?”
“Well, goodness me, Banty, you’re old enough now to know that all creatures have to … um, er … make themselves comfortable. No one can digest everything that is eaten. Some of it is, er, wasted. It has to be got rid of.”
“What d’you mean, Ma?”
“Droppings,” said Titanic heavily. “We all do ’em.”
“But,” said Gargantua, “we do them on the grass.”
“Or in the water,” said Titanic.
“But just imagine,” said Gargantua, “a creature that is hanging upside down and suddenly needs to do its, er …”
“ … droppings,” said Titanic.
“ … and you can easily realize that it is going to make itself filthy. I very much hope, Banty, that you will have nothing more to do with it.”
Nosy’s a “he,” not an “it,” thought Banty, and we’re friends, and if I want to see him again, I shall, Ma, so there.
Meanwhile, back in the woods, Aviatrix and Clawed were waking up to find that Nosy was absent.
“Where’s he gone?” said his mother.
“Don’t know,” said his father.
“What are we going to do?”
“Don’t know.”
“Wherever he’s gone, he’ll come back, won’t he?”
Clawed, hanging by his huge talons, stretched his huge wings and yawned a huge yawn.
“Don’t know,” he replied.
You don’t know anything, thought Aviatrix angrily, but before she could say more, Nosy came flying in at speed.
In one fluent movement, he turned on his back,
reached up with his little legs, caught the branch with his little claws, and hung there, swinging to and fro.
Aviatrix turned her anger on her son.
“Wherever have you been, you naughty boy?” she cried.
“To the lake, Mom.”
“To the lake? Whatever for?”
“A drink, I expect,” said Clawed. “That’s why I go there. I like a drink now and again.”
“No, Daddy,” said Nosy. “I went to meet a friend.”
“A friend?” said his mother. “Another pterodactyl, you mean?”
“No, Mom.”
“What, then?”
“A young apatosaurus. The one we saw yesterday. On the Great Plain. She’s called Banty. She’s nice.”
“Well!” said Aviatrix. “I’m dumbfounded!”
“What’s that mean, Mom?”
“Reduced to silence.”
“But you’re talking.”
“Hold your tongue, child. I am utterly flabbergasted.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Oh, stop your endless questions. I cannot tell you how surprised I am that you should be speaking to such a creature.”
“But you are telling me, Mom,” said Nosy.
“You don’t know where it’s been,” said Clawed. “They’re dirty things, they are.”
He did a huge poo, which, by a stroke of luck, missed his head and fell to the ground below.
“They’re not dirty, Daddy,” said Nosy. “They come off the Great Plain and go and bathe in the lake. Banty certainly isn’t dirty.”
“Banty!” said Aviatrix. “What a silly name for a
silly flightless creature. I trust you’ll have nothing more to do with it.”
Banty’s a “she,” not an “it,” thought Nosy. She’s my friend and I hope I’m hers, and I will see her again, Mom, so there.
