The ponies are thirsty. They just told me over the hedge that the hot weather has dried up their water supply. Mum and I need to help them. I’d better tell her!
She’s chatting on the telephone so I’ll wait for her to stop. Then I’ll get her attention better than if I talk while she’s talking. I’ve found this out through trying different tactics and seeing which ones work best.
But she’s taking too long! If she talks for much longer the ponies will be gone. They’ll take off, looking for a drink somewhere else – and maybe they won’t find one. I think Mum needs prompting about the problem.
“Come with me!” I urge her, tugging at her skirt. “Come quickly!”
“Sam’s behaving oddly,” she says into the phone. “He’s acting as if there’s a crisis. I doubt there is, but you never know. I’d better go and see what’s what.”
She follows me as I run into the front garden. The ponies haven’t left. They are still on the other side of the hedge, pawing the dry ground and whinnying. There seem to be lots of them.
“They need a drink,” I tell Mum, in case she can’t tell for herself.
“I don’t think I’ve enough carrots to go round,” she says, counting heads.
“Well, carrots would be welcome, I expect – but water would be better!” I tell her.
Then I get a good idea. I’ve seen how she often waters the garden, so I run over to the thing like a big worm and bark at it.
“The hosepipe!” Mum says. “That’s so clever, Sam! We can poke it through the hedge and the ponies can drink to their hearts’ content.”
I love it when Mum praises my cleverness – and now my pony friends are happily slurping the water that’s reaching them.
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