Playground Pets

by Rebecca Johnson

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1 Sometimes vets need to take charge

  CHAPTER 2 Vets need to be very supportive

  CHAPTER 3 Vets can be wrong sometimes

  CHAPTER 4 Vets need to learn damage control

  CHAPTER 5 Vets save lives

  CHAPTER 6 Vets know when something’s not right

  CHAPTER 7 Vets have disasters too

  CHAPTER 8 Vets can change the way people think

  For Caroline and Sherryn

  and for the Green Team of

  Windaroo Primary. Rx

  It’s Monday lunchtime and we’re helping out in the science room at school. Chelsea and I are cleaning out the guinea pigs’ hutch.

  Our science teacher, Mrs Kuss, is on the phone. Primary schools don’t usually have teachers that just teach science, but our school does, and that’s why I love it. Vets have to be good at science.

  When Mrs Kuss gets off the phone, we realise something is wrong. She shakes her head and mutters to herself, ‘Oh dear me, this is not good at all.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asks Chelsea, my best friend and neighbour.

  Mrs Kuss looks stressed and a bit upset. ‘My dad has gone into hospital and needs to have an operation. It isn’t anything too serious, but my mother’s very worried. I have to take two days off to be with them, but there’s so much to organise here. I’m never going to be able to get things ready for the teacher taking my place. I need to catch a plane tonight!’

  ‘We can help the new teacher and look after everything for you,’ I say.

  ‘We know how the Green Team works,’ adds Chelsea, ‘and you know the animals will be fine. After all, Juliet is nearly a vet.’

  Mrs Kuss smiles, but she still looks nervous. ‘Thanks, girls, I just don’t know how on earth someone will be able to come in here and teach all the lessons and run the Green Team, feed the animals, do the composting –’

  ‘Mrs Kuss,’ I have to interrupt because she’s getting even more upset, ‘it’s going to be okay. Chelsea and I will make a list of everything that needs to be done, and then we can work out who can do them. You just think about the lessons.’

  ‘Oh what would I do without you, girls?’ says Mrs Kuss.

  Chelsea and I don’t answer her. We don’t know what she’d do without us either.

  ‘Right,’ says Mrs Kuss. ‘I guess I have no choice. I’m just going to have to prepare my lessons in the short time I have and hope whoever Mr Bartlett finds to replace me has lots of experience teaching science.’

  I whip out my Vet Diary and turn to a new page.

  ‘Let’s go through the jobs and work out who will do them, Chelsea. You go and plan your lessons, Mrs Kuss. We’ll get the other things sorted out.’

  Vets are good at taking charge when they need to.

  Chelsea and I start to think of all the things that need to be done every day in the science room and I write them down.

  ‘We are going to be busy making sure these jobs are done,’ whispers Chelsea. ‘Do you think we can manage, Juliet?’

  ‘Of course we can! I’m nearly a vet, so I can handle all the animals, and you’re nearly a world-famous animal trainer, Chelsea, so I’m sure you’ll be able to keep the recycling boys in line with the composting and other stuff.’

  Chelsea nods her head, but she looks a little terrified.

  Mrs Kuss is looking through drawers. I can hear her talking to herself as she sorts equipment into boxes.

  ‘The most important thing to do is keep Mrs Kuss calm,’ I say to Chelsea. ‘She’s got enough to worry about and we need her to know we can take care of it.’

  I start to rule up my Vet Diary into the days that Mrs Kuss will be gone for. ‘Let’s make up a timetable so we know what to do each day. We can give it to Mrs Kuss to show her nothing will be forgotten while she’s gone.’

  ‘Great idea,’ says Chelsea.

  I start to write our schedule down.

  ‘Right,’ I say. ‘I think that’s all we need to remember. I’m sure we can run this place without too many problems. How hard can it be? Let’s go and show Mrs Kuss.’

  Chelsea grimaces and shrugs her shoulders. She can get a bit nervous about new things.

  Chelsea and I are both waiting at the science room the next morning when Mr Bartlett, our school principal, walks the replacement teacher down the path.

  ‘I’ve never seen a teacher wear heels that high to work,’ I whisper to Chelsea.

  ‘Ah, girls,’ says Mr Bartlett when they reach us. ‘This is Miss Fine. She’ll be filling in for Mrs Kuss. Miss Fine, this is Juliet and Chelsea. They’re the captains of this year’s Green Team. They’ll be very helpful if you have any questions about our science room.’

  ‘Hello, girls,’ Miss Fine says with a smile.

  She is very glamorous and not very scientific looking. For a moment I feel just a little nervous for Miss Fine.

  Mr Bartlett unlocks the classroom door and they step inside. I’m just about to follow when Chelsea grabs my hand to hold me back.

  ‘Did you see her gorgeous nails? And her beautiful long hair? I just love her dress!’ whispers Chelsea.

  Sometimes Chelsea and I have very different ideas about things.

  ‘Chelsea, does she look like the type of person who’s going to like this job? Have you ever seen Mrs Kuss wearing high heels like that? How is she going to garden in those?’ I ask.

  Chelsea stops and frowns. ‘She’s not like Mrs Kuss at all, is she? But I really do love her dress.’

  I shake my head and we enter the science room.

  Miss Fine is sitting on a chair in the corner looking pale and Mr Bartlett is getting her a drink of water.

  ‘Ah, girls,’ he says when he sees us. ‘Miss Fine got a bit of a fright when she saw the lizards. What are their names again?’

  ‘Digby and Delilah,’ I say proudly, heading for the large tank. ‘Delilah’s due to have her babies next week.’

  ‘Oh dear, are there going to be more of them?’ Miss Fine’s voice is shaky.

  ‘You don’t need to worry, Miss Fine,’ says Chelsea. ‘I was scared of them too when we first got them, but they’re actually lovely.’

  ‘Would you like to have a hold of one?’ I suggest helpfully.

  ‘No!’ Miss Fine jumps to her feet, then looks at Mr Bartlett and speaks calmly. ‘Um, not right now, thank you, girls. I’ll just look at the lesson plans and get organised first.’

  ‘Right,’ says Mr Bartlett. ‘These girls will help you settle in. And please don’t worry about the animals – Mrs Kuss assures me that Juliet is nearly a vet, so she’ll look after them all for you.’

  Miss Fine giggles nervously and Mr Bartlett leaves the room.

  Miss Fine stays sitting on the chair and peers anxiously around the room. She looks like she doesn’t know where to start.

  ‘Mrs Kuss left all the equipment you’ll need for your lessons in the boxes against the wall, and the lesson plans are on her desk,’ says Chelsea helpfully, leading Miss Fine over to them. ‘Juliet and I can do the Green Team jobs.’

  Chelsea and I get the keys off the hook for the shed while Miss Fine starts to look through the lesson notes.

  ‘Oh my goodness, what is that?’ she cries. Miss Fine is back at the chair in the corner, pointing at the large cage across the room. I was wrong about the shoes. She can actually get quite a bit of speed up in them.

  ‘Oh, you’ll love them!’ coos Chelsea. ‘That’s Pudding and Custard, our adorable school guinea pigs.’

  Miss Fine says nothing, but she slowly shakes her head.

  ‘Don’t you like animals?’ I ask, looking over at Chelsea with my best ‘I-told-you-so’ expression.

  ‘Um, well, it’s not that I
don’t like them,’ she explains. ‘It’s just that I grew up in an apartment block and we didn’t have room for pets.’

  ‘There’s always room for pets, no matter where you live,’ I say, not impressed with her excuse. ‘You just need to think of some different kinds of pets.’ I whip out my Vet Diary and show her my page on pets for small yards and houses and start to list them off for her.

  ‘Cockroaches! Who on earth has cockroaches for pets?’ Miss Fine fans herself with the class roll.

  ‘Um, we do,’ says Chelsea with a grimace. She points to Mort and Teeny’s tank against the wall. ‘They’re our giant burrowing cockroaches. But don’t worry, they’re nothing like the dirty cockroaches that come into houses.’

  I know it sounds mean, but I don’t think I like this Miss Fine very much. I can’t help saying, ‘Yes, burrowing cockroaches are much bigger, Mort’s nearly eight centimetres long.’

  But as soon as I’ve said it, I feel bad. And when Miss Fine starts to get teary, I feel even worse. At first it’s just a tear rolling down her cheek, then lots of tears, and then she’s sobbing.

  Chelsea and I look at each other then take a step closer. Chelsea puts her hand on Miss Fine’s shoulder and I pass her the tissue box.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry for crying, girls. What sort of teacher am I? I only finished university a month ago and this is my first chance to teach for two days straight and here I am crying before I even start. Mr Bartlett said there might be a chance of getting a job here full-time, but I can’t even walk over to the desk without breaking into a cold sweat.’

  Chelsea speaks first, ‘Miss Fine, when I met Juliet, I didn’t know anything about animals and, if I’m honest, I was really scared when I first held Juliet’s guinea pigs.’

  I look at Chelsea. I didn’t know that. I couldn’t imagine being scared of a guinea pig, but I’ve grown up around all kinds of animals, so maybe it’s easier for me. I start to feel really bad for not being more understanding.

  ‘Miss Fine, you have to trust us. There’s nothing in this classroom that will hurt you. We can do this, together. Chelsea and I can do everything that’s needed with the animals and you can just focus on the teaching. Mr Bartlett will see what a good teacher you are, just you wait and see.’

  Chelsea grabs a bag for Miss Fine to throw her tissues in.

  Pudding, the guinea pig, starts to squeak loudly when she hears the bag rustle. She’s got her little paws up on the edge of the cage to see what’s coming her way to eat.

  ‘Oops, sorry,’ I say, laughing. ‘She always does that when she hears a bag rustle. Pudding thinks it means more food.’

  Miss Fine laughs as she dabs at her eyes. ‘That’s actually very cute.’

  ‘We’ll show you how it all works,’ I say to Miss Fine, trying to cheer her up.

  ‘Before each lesson the water bottles need filling so that each class can water their own plants in the garden. I can do this for you in the mornings, but you’ll need to choose someone from each class to refill them during the lesson,’ Chelsea explains.

  ‘All the kids know how to do it and it only takes five minutes,’ I add.

  ‘Okay,’ says Miss Fine, as she quickly grabs a notepad and scribbles some notes. Maybe we have more in common than I first thought.

  ‘The boys from the recycling team will be down soon to collect the food-scrap bins,’ I explain. ‘They can be a bit rowdy but Chelsea has four older brothers so she can handle them, can’t you, Chelsea?’

  Chelsea grimaces and nods slowly. ‘I guess so.’

  ‘I’ll take care of the animals and try to keep them out of your way until you get used to them,’ I continue. ‘Animals are a bit like people – sometimes the first impression you get of them is not at all what they turn out to be.’

  ‘You girls are so lovely to help me like this,’ says Miss Fine, smiling.

  We get to work with our jobs. Chelsea heads over to get the water bottles and I begin cleaning out the guinea pigs’ cage. I open the lid and carefully lift them into the box they wait in while I clean. As I lift Custard out I hold him up for Miss Fine to see from across the room. ‘This one’s called Custard. He’s an Abyssinian guinea pig. That’s why his hair stands out all over his body.’

  Miss Fine nods shyly and says, ‘He’s very cute, but they do look the tiniest bit ratty, don’t they?’

  I think about bringing Custard closer to her, but something tells me Miss Fine’s not quite ready.

  Once the guinea pigs’ hutch is clean and they are given some fresh grass and vegetable scraps, I get a carrot out of the fridge and grate it up for the mealworms and crickets.

  Miss Fine is putting the equipment out for a class experiment when she looks over at me and sees the label on the mealworm tank. ‘Oh worms! I actually don’t mind worms. They’re not so likely to crawl on you, are they?’

  ‘Well . . .’ I say. ‘Let me show you something in my Vet Diary.’

  I flip open to the page on mealworms and point to the life cycle diagram as I explain.

  ‘Mealworms aren’t actually worms, Miss Fine, they’re the larvae stage of the darkling beetle.’

  ‘And beetles do crawl,’ says Miss Fine quietly.

  ‘Don’t worry, Miss Fine. These mealworms won’t turn into beetles for another two months at least,’ I reassure her. ‘Then we let them go in the garden.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ she sighs. ‘I might end up learning more than I teach this week.’

  We’re interrupted by a bustling noise outside and the recycling boys barge into the room.

  ‘This is the recycling team,’ I announce. ‘These guys collect all the food scraps each day and compost them. They’re also really helpful if you ever need any jobs done.’

  Josh, Jessie, Mason, Connor, Adam, Liam and Joeshym all stand and look at Miss Fine. For a moment, none of them seem to know what to say.

  Then Josh speaks up. ‘We also collect snails for the lizards.’ He proudly holds up his hand for us to see. It’s covered in large, slimy snails.

  Miss Fine gasps and steps back. The boys snigger and elbow each other.

  ‘Just make sure you wash your hands with soap after touching them,’ I snap.

  The boys crowd around the blue-tongue lizard tank and cheer as Digby, the male lizard, demolishes a snail shell in one loud crunch.

  Miss Fine flattens her hand against her chest and looks at me in horror. ‘They eat live snails?’ she asks.

  ‘I know it seems cruel,’ I say, ‘but we need to try to give the lizards the same food as they eat in the wild. Otherwise they’ll get sick.’ I turn to my Vet Diary page on blue-tongue lizards and show Miss Fine.

  The door opens and Mr Bartlett walks in. ‘How are we settling in?’ he asks.

  Miss Fine’s mouth opens but nothing seems to come out.

  ‘Miss Fine and I were just discussing the importance of natural foods for the lizards,’ I answer.

  ‘Excellent, keep up the good work,’ says Mr Bartlett. ‘Let me know if you have any problems.’

  ‘Sure, er . . . of course,’ Miss Fine mumbles as he walks out the door.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to hold a snail, Miss Fine?’ adds Jessie with a smirk on his face. I shoot him a glare that freezes him in his tracks.

  The bell goes and it’s time to go to class.

  ‘Chelsea and I will be back at recess. You’ll be okay till then, won’t you?’ I ask.

  Miss Fine nods, but she doesn’t look very confident. ‘None of the animals can escape?’ she asks.

  ‘Nothing will get out,’ I say.

  Chelsea comes back into the room. ‘Bottles are filled,’ she says.

  ‘We’ll see you in the break,’ I say, closing the door behind us.

  ‘Oh dear,’ says Chelsea. ‘She looks absolutely terrified!’

  ‘She does a bit, doesn’t she? We’ll have to help her lots this week,’ I say, because I really don’t want to see Miss Fine cry again.

  When we come back at recess, I get a fee
ling there may have been a few problems in the morning classes.

  The first thing I notice when I open the door to the science room is Miss Fine’s hair. This morning it was all straight and shiny, now she’s got it all bunched up with an elastic band. She’s limping badly and her hands look like they’re covered in blood. And there’s water all over the floor around the sinks.

  Miss Fine is wobbling her way to the sink when she sees us peering at her from the doorway. ‘Well, you probably thought I couldn’t do this job, and you were right. Look at this mess and it’s only eleven o’clock on my first day!’

  Chelsea and I rush to her side.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ says Chelsea, full of concern.

  ‘No,’ sniffs Miss Fine. ‘It would be better if I was though, then I could go home.’ She turns on the tap and starts to scrub at her hands.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask, looking at a large red stain on the floor.

  ‘I forgot to ask someone to fill the water bottles after the first class, so when the next group was writing, I started to do it myself at the sink.’

  Miss Fine looks like she might cry again, but she keeps talking.

  ‘When I looked back at the class, I saw that a boy had knocked over a whole bottle of red food colouring and it was leaking everywhere. I was in such a rush to clean it up that my heel got caught on the metal strip between the carpet and the lino and broke off.’

  She looks at Chelsea and says, ‘They were my favourite shoes!’

  Chelsea gives a sympathetic nod and pats Miss Fine’s back.

  ‘And with all that going on, I forgot the tap was still on, filling a bottle. There was water everywhere and, of course, that’s when Mr Bartlett had to walk past. He opened the door to see how I was going and there I was with bare feet and what looked like blood all over my hands! He was very nice about it, but I could see on his face that he was already thinking of who he could find to replace me.’

  Chelsea looks down sadly at the broken shoe as if it is an injured animal and says, ‘First we need to find you some shoes.’