Chapter One
Guinea Pigs Aren’t Stupid
‘If I was the Queen,’ Judy said, ‘I wouldn’t have corgis.’
‘What sort of dogs would you have, Judy?’ said her teacher.
The class were talking about pets and which were their favourites.
‘I wouldn’t have dogs at all.’
‘What would you keep then,’ said Judy’s teacher, ‘if you were the Queen?’
Everybody burst out laughing and Judy went very red.
‘They’re my favourite animals,’ she said defiantly. ‘If I was the Queen I’d keep lots of them.’
‘In hutches, you mean?’
‘No. In Buckingham Palace.’
‘But, Judy,’ said her teacher, ‘wouldn’t it look rather odd if someone very important came to call, like, say, the President of the United States of America, and the Queen – I mean you – said “Do take a seat, Mr President,” and there was a guinea pig lying in the armchair?’
‘And there’d be messes all over the carpet,’ someone said.
‘And the President would step in them,’ said someone else.
Everybody giggled.
‘My guinea pigs would be house-trained,’ muttered Judy, close to tears.
‘Palace-trained, you mean,’ said a voice, and now there was so much sniggering that the teacher said ‘That’s enough, children.’
She put her hand on Judy’s shoulder and said: ‘It’s a nice idea, but even if you were the Queen you wouldn’t be able to train a guinea pig like you can train a dog. Only certain animals are intelligent enough to be taught things by humans, and I’m afraid guinea pigs are not among them. They’re dear little creatures, Judy, but they haven’t got a lot of brains.’
