Vets and Pets 2: Jamie and the Horse Show. Helen Brain

off towards the SUV driving in through the gates. She turned around suddenly and looked at Jamie’s jeans. “By the way, nice jodhpurs.”

      Jamie felt the heat rising off her cheeks. She was furious.

      Pan patted her arm. “Just ignore her. She seems like a real cow.”

      “I HAVE to buy Oreo,” Jamie said. “I’m sick of being the riding school laughing stock. But where am I going to get three thousand rand. In fact, I need five thousand five hundred for Oreo. And that’s IF my mother sticks to her side of the bargain and pays the other half.”

      “Hmm,” Pan said. “Let’s think. You’ve already got a job working for your mom in the vet practice, right?”

      “Yes, only odd jobs every now and again. It will take me forever to earn that much.”

      “Have you got anything you can sell?”

      Jamie snorted. “You mean like my little brother? Or his monkey?”

      “No silly,” Pan giggled. “I mean like toys, or PC games or even clothes. People pay good money for them.”

      Jamie thought. Her room was a mess, but there must be some things she didn’t need anymore.

      “I’ll tell you what,” Pan said. “Let’s ask your mom if I can sleep over, and I can help you go through your stuff. Then we can advertise on Gumtree.”

      Over the fence Oreo whinnied, and Jamie smiled. “Oreo thinks that’s a great idea.”

      3

      Snotterbel Delight

      Jamie couldn’t wait to tell her mother the news about Oreo, but Arabella wasn’t in the mood. She’d had a long day in the vet practice and now the prof was late for dinner.

      “Where is your father?” she said, slamming the wooden spoon on the kitchen counter. “The supper is getting ruined and I made something special.”

      “Something especially disgusting?” asked Toby, rolling his eyes.

      “You know what?” said Arabella, ignoring her eldest child. “I think we should just start eating. Your dad is really late. Sit down kids, and I’ll dish up.”

      Jamie and Toby eyed the serving dishes suspiciously. The only one looking forward to dinner was the monkey. He leaped onto the table and snatched a fish finger from the dish.

      “Tick, you know you’re not allowed to have Bieber in here at meal times,” Arabella said irritably. “Take him out and shut the door.”

      “Where’d you put him?” Jamie asked when her little brother came back into the kitchen.

      “In the lounge. He’s watching Jackass.”

      Pan giggled. “You really put the TV on just for your monkey?”

      “Anything to keep him quiet,” said Arabella, dishing up the fish fingers. They were curling up at the edges and had lost their crumbs.

      “What happened to the fish fingers, Mom?” asked Jamie. “They look like they’ve got mange.”

      “Don’t be silly, Jamie,” Arabella said, plopping a wodge of grey stodge on each plate. “Fish fingers and mash. Your favourite.”

      “When I was five maybe,” Jamie said. “Before I tasted the food Pan’s chef cooks.”

      “Well, Pan’s chef doesn’t spend all day helping sick animals,” Arabella said with her lips tight. “And I bet you even Pan’s chef won’t have heard of the delicacy I’ve made tonight. Here it is, my piece de resistance,” she exclaimed, lifting the lid off the last dish. “Snotterbel!”

      The four children peered at the blob of murk lurking at the bottom of the dish.

      “Snotterbel?” Jamie said. “I’ve never heard of that.”

      “It’s an indigenous South African plant. It’s the new super food.”

      “It looks like parrot poo,” said Toby.

      “Where did you get it?” Jamie asked, prodding it with her fork. “Do they sell it at Pick n Pay?”

      “It grows outside the garage. I’ve been feeding it worm wee from my wormery and it’s growing like wildfire.”

      “Worm wee?” said Tick, looking a bit pale. “I don’t think I want to eat snot or worm wee.”

      “It’s not snot, Nicholas. It’s Snotterbel,” Arabella said firmly, passing the plates down the table. “And anyway, I washed it. Now tuck in everyone.”

      “Who’s that flushing the toilet?” Jamie asked as the water pipes clunked in the ceiling.

      Tick looked smug. “Bieber, of course. He’s getting the hang of it. This afternoon he did a number …”

      “Tick, that’s enough,” Arabella snapped. “We don’t want to hear about monkey bowel movements at dinner.”

      Before Tick could argue they heard the car pull up. Professor Waine came in at the back door, beaming.

      “Good evening, Family. I see you’ve already started. Good, good.”

      “We couldn’t wait any longer, Dear,” said Arabella in an icy tone. “I hope you’re hungry.”

      The prof looked at the sad array of dishes and gave a little belch. “Ah, no, Love. Too many pub nuts. Been at my college reunion. Super time. Super.”

      “Well,” said Arabella, “all the more for me then.” She flicked her napkin out as if it were a switch blade and attacked her meal with her knife and fork. The children watched her carefully as she chewed a mouthful of green sludge. Jamie waited till she wasn’t looking and tipped hers under the table, where Fungi, her dog, gobbled it up.

      “Ah, Tobias I have a gift for you, Boy.” The prof smacked Toby on the back so he nearly choked. “My old colleague, Dr Horeheck, has to go into a retirement home next week. Eccentric old chap. Gave me something that he can’t take with him.”

      “Poor old Dr Horeheck,” Arabella said as the prof trotted off to the garage. “Such an old dear, and all alone in the world. No family. No one to make him home cooked meals … I’ll go and visit him next week and take him some meatloaf.”

      Toby sniggered. “Are you trying to kill him off, Mom?”

      “About my horse, Mom,” Jamie said. “I was talking to Mrs Bunhoffer today – you know that pretty German lady, Oreo’s owner?”

      “Hmm,” said Arabella. She wasn’t listening. “What IS your father doing now?”

      There was a scraping, rasping noise. “Hell and Damnation,” cursed the prof. Something squawked, and he reappeared dragging an enormous bird cage. A bedraggled African Grey sat on the perch. “For you Toby,” said the prof, standing with his arms stretched out like a sexy model at a car show.

      “No, no, no!” Arabella exclaimed. “NO MORE PETS! I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. But you people never listen. Who cleans up after them and feeds them and picks up their poo? ME, that’s who!”

      The family ignored the ranting they’d heard so many times.

      “For me, Dad?” Toby asked. His geeky face was all lit up with joy. “I’ll put him in my room with Hawking. Maybe they’ll mate.”

      The parrot looked at him with its beady eyes. “Hell and Damnation,” it squawked. “Pi equals three point one four one five nine two six five.”

      Everyone laughed.

      “Well maybe he can stay a while, until we find him a new home,” Arabella