The morning sun had only just climbed above the acacia trees when Lou-Anne arrived beneath the baobab carrying a small blue card.

All her friends gathered around her.

M’Pofo lowered his enormous head to inspect it. Vakawu hung upside down from a branch so he could read it, although the words were now upside down too. Kiera peered over Lou-Anne’s shoulder, while Nuru and Buhala stood on their back paws for a better look.

Ubejane remained a few steps away.

“What is it?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s a reminder from the village clinic,” said Lou-Anne. “I’m due for my annual check-up.”

Marmalade, who had been asleep in the shade, opened one eye.

“And,” Lou-Anne continued, “Dr Amina, the wildlife vet, will be there today. She says all of you can have your check-ups too.”

Marmalade immediately closed his eye again.

Vakawu swung down beside Lou-Anne. “Will there be snacks?”

“Probably not.”

“Then I question the value of this expedition.”

Lou-Anne looked at the final line on the card.

“It also says some of us are due for vaccinations.”

Everyone became very quiet.

Ubejane took one careful step backwards.

“A vaccination?” asked Kiera.

“It helps protect us from dangerous illnesses,” Lou-Anne explained. “Sometimes it is given as a small injection.”

“How small?” asked Vakawu.

“Very small.”

“How pointy?”

Lou-Anne hesitated. “A little pointy.”

Ubejane took another step backwards.

M’Pofo noticed. “Are you worried?”

“Certainly not,” Ubejane replied. “I am simply standing farther away so that I can consider the situation properly.”

Marmalade crawled beneath a large baobab root.

Only his orange tail remained visible.

The village clinic

Omi accompanied Lou-Anne and the animals to the clinic. It was a cheerful little building with yellow walls, shady windows and a garden filled with herbs and flowers.

A sign beside the door read:

Village Health and Wildlife Check-up Day

Dr Naledi, the village doctor, welcomed Lou-Anne and Omi. Beside her stood Dr Amina, the wildlife vet, carrying a large medical bag.

“Good morning,” said Dr Amina. “Who would like to go first?”

Nobody moved.

Vakawu suddenly became fascinated by the ceiling.

Kiera carefully inspected her pouch.

Ubejane looked behind himself, as though expecting another rhinoceros to volunteer.

Marmalade was nowhere to be seen.

M’Pofo lifted his trunk. “I will.”

Dr Amina began by weighing him on a special platform outside. M’Pofo stepped onto it, and the numbers flashed.

“Growing well,” she said.

She listened to his heart, checked his eyes and ears, and examined his feet.

“Your feet look healthy, but remember to keep them clean after muddy walks.”

M’Pofo nodded seriously.

Then Dr Amina asked him to open his mouth.

M’Pofo opened it very wide.

Vakawu leaned closer. “I can see all the way to breakfast.”

“You will see the way back out again if you do not move,” said Ubejane.

Dr Amina laughed and checked M’Pofo’s teeth.

“Everything looks excellent.”

M’Pofo stepped down proudly.

“That was easy.”

“There is still your vaccination,” Dr Amina reminded him.

M’Pofo’s ears stopped flapping.

“Oh.”

Lou-Anne’s check-up

While Dr Amina prepared M’Pofo’s vaccination, Dr Naledi invited Lou-Anne into the clinic.

First, she measured Lou-Anne’s height.

“You’ve grown since last year,” she said.

“I thought my trousers were getting shorter,” Lou-Anne replied.

Dr Naledi checked her eyes, ears, heartbeat and breathing. She asked whether Lou-Anne was sleeping well, eating different kinds of food and drinking enough water.

“Most days,” Lou-Anne said honestly.

“Good. Check-ups are not tests that you pass or fail,” Dr Naledi explained. “They help us notice what your body needs.”

She also asked how Lou-Anne had been feeling.

Lou-Anne thought for a moment. “Usually happy. Sometimes worried. Sometimes grumpy when I’m tired.”

“Those are all normal feelings,” said Dr Naledi. “It is important to talk about them, just as we talk about a sore throat or an aching knee.”

Omi smiled from her chair.

Then Dr Naledi showed Lou-Anne the small syringe.

“This vaccine protects you from becoming seriously ill. You may feel a quick pinch, and your arm might be a little sore afterwards.”

Lou-Anne’s stomach fluttered.

“May I look away?”

“Of course. You can sit beside Omi, take slow breaths and tell me when you are ready.”

Lou-Anne held Omi’s hand and looked towards the window. Outside, Vakawu had pressed his face against the glass.

He crossed his eyes.

Lou-Anne laughed.

“Ready.”

Dr Naledi cleaned Lou-Anne’s arm.

There was a tiny prick.

Then it was finished.

“That’s all?” Lou-Anne asked.

“That’s all.”

Dr Naledi placed a little plaster on her arm.

Lou-Anne felt enormously relieved. “The worrying took much longer than the vaccination.”

“That often happens,” said Omi.

Everyone has a turn

Outside, M’Pofo had received his vaccination too.

“It felt like being poked by a very determined thorn,” he said. “But only for a moment.”

Kiera went next. Dr Amina checked her strong legs, listened to her heart and examined her ears.

When it was time for her vaccination, Kiera squeezed her eyes shut and held M’Pofo’s trunk.

“One, two, three,” said Dr Amina.

Kiera opened her eyes. “When are you going to do it?”

“I already have.”

Kiera looked delighted. “I didn’t even notice!”

Nuru and Buhala had their check-ups together. They stood side by side while Dr Amina examined their paws and teeth.

When Dr Amina listened to Nuru’s heartbeat, Buhala whispered, “Is it beating quickly?”

“It is,” said Dr Amina.

“That’s because he’s frightened,” Buhala announced.

“I am not frightened,” said Nuru. “My heart is simply enthusiastic.”

The mongooses received their vaccinations one after the other. They both squeaked, although each insisted that the other had squeaked more loudly.

Vakawu climbed onto the examination table.

“I should warn you that I am an extremely important monkey.”

“I will be very careful,” said Dr Amina.

She checked his eyes, his teeth and the movement of his arms and legs.

“Do you eat plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables?”

“Constantly.”

Ubejane snorted. “You ate half a cake yesterday.”

“It contained berries.”

When Dr Amina prepared Vakawu’s vaccination, he covered his eyes with both hands.

“Tell me when it is over.”

“It’s over.”

Vakawu uncovered one eye. “Really?”

“Really.”

He jumped down and stretched his arms wide.

“I felt nothing! My courage protected me.”

“The vaccination went into your other arm,” said Lou-Anne.

Vakawu inspected it. “My courage clearly travels.”

The missing cat

Only Marmalade had not been examined.

They searched beneath the chairs, behind the flowerpots and inside Dr Amina’s open bag.

Finally, Lou-Anne noticed two green eyes peering from a basket of clean towels.

“Marmalade.”

The ginger cat sank lower into the basket.

Lou-Anne sat beside him.

“It’s all right to be frightened,” she said. “But hiding means Dr Amina cannot make sure you’re healthy.”

Marmalade gave a miserable little meow.

“She’ll be gentle. I’ll stay with you.”

After a while, Marmalade climbed slowly into Lou-Anne’s lap.

Dr Amina listened to his heart, checked his ears and felt his tummy. Marmalade complained about every part of the examination, including the parts that could not possibly have hurt.

“You are a healthy cat,” Dr Amina told him. “And your vaccination will help keep you that way.”

Lou-Anne stroked his head while Dr Amina gave the injection.

Marmalade barely moved.

When it was finished, he stared at everyone as though he had just survived an encounter with a lion.

“You were very brave,” said Lou-Anne.

Marmalade began purring immediately.

The largest patient

At last, only Ubejane remained.

“I have decided,” he announced, “that rhinoceroses are naturally too healthy to require check-ups.”

Dr Amina opened her notebook. “When did you last have your eyes examined?”

Ubejane paused.

“Some time ago.”

“And your feet?”

“A slightly more recent time ago.”

“And your vaccination?”

Ubejane looked towards the gate.

M’Pofo stood gently in front of it.

“We’ll stay with you,” he said.

Ubejane grumbled all the way onto the weighing platform. He grumbled while Dr Amina listened to his heart. He grumbled while she checked his eyes and examined a crack in one toenail.

Then she showed him the syringe.

Ubejane stared at it.

“That tiny thing?”

“Yes.”

“I was expecting something the size of a spear.”

“No spears,” Dr Amina assured him.

Ubejane stood perfectly still. Lou-Anne rested one hand against his shoulder, while M’Pofo curled the end of his trunk around Ubejane’s horn.

The vaccination took less than a second.

Ubejane blinked.

“Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

The great rhinoceros lifted his head.

“Well,” he said loudly, “I was never worried.”

Vakawu opened his mouth.

Ubejane gave him a warning look.

Vakawu wisely closed it again.

A healthy little celebration

Afterwards, everyone rested in the clinic garden. Omi handed out water and pieces of fresh fruit. Marmalade received a small dish of chicken from Dr Amina’s lunchbox and decided that the clinic was not entirely terrible.

Dr Naledi reminded Lou-Anne that her arm might feel sore later.

“Drink water, take it easy and tell Omi or Opi if you feel unwell.”

Dr Amina gave similar advice for the animals.

“No racing, climbing competitions or rhinoceros wrestling this afternoon.”

Vakawu looked disappointed. “What about gentle banana juggling?”

“Gentle banana juggling is acceptable.”

As they walked home, Lou-Anne looked at the little plaster on her arm.

“I’m glad we went.”

“So am I,” said M’Pofo. “It is good to know that we are healthy.”

“And if there is a problem,” Kiera added, “it is better to find it early.”

Ubejane nodded. “Being sensible is not the same as being frightened.”

Vakawu swung onto a low branch. “And being frightened does not mean you cannot be brave.”

Everyone looked at him in surprise.

Vakawu shrugged. “I occasionally say very wise things.”

That evening, the friends rested beneath the baobab. Nobody raced. Nobody wrestled. Vakawu juggled exactly three bananas very slowly.

Lou-Anne leaned against M’Pofo while Marmalade slept beside her.

The check-ups had taken time. The vaccinations had pinched a little. Some of them had worried, hidden or pretended not to care.

But they had all done something important for their health.

Lou-Anne closed her eyes as the evening breeze moved softly through the grass.

Being brave, she decided, did not mean never feeling afraid.

Sometimes it simply meant taking a deep breath, holding the hand, paw or trunk of someone you trusted, and saying:

“I’m ready.”