Hide! The Tiger's Mouth is Open Wide! (5 page)

But Tom calmed down and held Sammy firmly but gently. Terry opened the rat’s mouth and looked closely at his teeth. Sophie peered in too. Terry nodded and said, ‘It’s his bottom teeth, look.’

Sophie nodded. They were like tiny tusks, curling around till they almost touched his tongue.

‘What are you going to do?’ Tom asked.

In reply, Terry pulled something out of his pocket.

‘What are they? Pliers or scissors or something?’ Tom asked.

‘Sort of,’ said Terry, holding the tool up so both Tom and Sophie could see it. ‘OK, it’s Sophie’s turn.’

So Sophie held Sammy while Terry snipped off the end of one of Sammy’s lower incisors. Terry flicked the tooth-end on to his palm so Sammy didn’t swallow it. Then he clipped off the end of the tooth next to it.

‘Can I keep these?’ Tom asked, picking up the two pieces of tooth.

‘As long as Sammy doesn’t want them,’ Terry said with a smile.

Sammy was returned to the enclosure. Terry also pulled the chew toy out from under the rock and put it next to the feeding bowl.

‘Thanks for your help,’ said Terry, ‘
again
.’

Chapter 5

After a few weeks of being Youth Tooth Sleuths, Tom and Sophie felt that they had learned all there was to know about teeth.

‘Maybe we should get into something else now,’ Tom said. ‘Eyes or fingers or something.’

‘We haven’t had any tooth mysteries to solve for at least two weeks,’ said Sophie, nodding. ‘I think maybe the animals’ teeth will be fine without us.’

‘We’ve been pestering the zookeepers about teeth too,’ said Tom. ‘Now they’re looking out for tooth problems even more than we are.’

So, as Tom and Sophie walked across the picnic lawn at the zoo, they agreed that their work was probably done and that the animals didn’t need their help any more in the dental department. They decided to celebrate with two hot chocolates plus squirty cream.

The tigers’ enclosure was on the way to the cafe, so they stopped briefly to check out Ziggy.

He was lying on his side, yawning contentedly, about two metres away from where they were standing.

‘Are tigers bigger than lions?’ Tom asked.

Sophie nodded. ‘They’re the biggest cat. Siberian tigers can be over three metres long. That’s bigger than a lion, a leopard, a jaguar, a cheetah, a puma, a serval, a caracal, an ocelot, a margay, a lynx and an oncilla.’

‘Are they all types of cat or did you make some of them up?’ Tom asked.

‘They’re all real cats,’ said Sophie, ‘though some of them might not exist for much longer.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, a lot of cats live in forests and jungles,’ said Sophie, ‘and people keep chopping them down. There used to be thousands and thousands of Sumatran tigers. Now there are fewer than four hundred in the wild.’

‘How do you remember all this stuff ?’ Tom said.

‘It’s written on that sign,’ said Sophie, pointing, ‘over there.’

Just at that moment, Tom heard a fluttering sound.

‘I don’t believe it,’ he exclaimed, and tugged at Sophie’s arm, pointing to the far end of the tigers’ enclosure. Once again a pigeon had somehow managed to wriggle through the wire.

‘We’d better call Dad,’ said Sophie, pulling out her mobile phone.

‘OK.’ Tom nodded, and watched the pigeon as it landed just a few metres away from Ziggy. Tom glanced at Ziggy and then back at the pigeon. Surely, this time, Ziggy would catch it.

Sophie had got through to their Dad and told him about the pigeon. She hung up.

‘Well, that’s weird,’ Tom said.

‘What’s weird?’ Sophie asked.

‘Look at Ziggy,’ said Tom.

They both looked at what the tiger was doing. Or rather, what the tiger wasn’t doing. He hadn’t even noticed the pigeon. When he finally did, he looked at it and then looked away.

Mr Nightingale arrived.

‘I don’t believe it,’ said Mr Nightingale. ‘I’ve worked here for fifteen years, and only ever known two pigeons get into that enclosure. And you’ve been here to see them both!’

‘Well, this one’s not in any danger,’ said Tom. ‘I think Ziggy has become a vegetarian.’

‘That’s strange,’ said Mr Nightingale, looking at the tiger and rubbing his chin.

Sophie glanced at the lump of meat that Ziggy was now batting backwards and forwards with his paws and then said, ‘Dad, are Ziggy’s teeth OK? He doesn’t seem very interested in his breakfast.’

‘I wasn’t sure if it was just an upset stomach,’ said Mr Nightingale, ‘but there’s been no vomiting or drowsiness. You could be right, Sophie – it might be his teeth.’

‘Look at his jaw, Dad!’ said Tom. ‘There seems to be a small lump, just above his lip.’

Mr Nightingale nodded. ‘Well spotted, Tom. We’d better give Dr Sharp a ring.’

Tom and Sophie looked at each other and smiled.

‘Looks like we’re still in business,’ said Sophie.

Later that day, after the zoo had closed its gates, Tom, Sophie and Mr Nightingale were back at the tiger enclosure. This time, they had Dr Sharp and Violet in tow.

Mr Nightingale was about to explain what the problem was, but Sophie had already started talking.

‘So we’ve had no problems with Ziggy’s teeth before now,’ she said, holding up her notebook, ‘but this morning we noticed that he was off his food and showed no interest in stalking a pigeon that had got into his enclosure.’

Dr Sharp looked at Sophie and smiled. ‘So what do you think it could be?’ he asked.

‘Definitely a problem with the canines,’ said Sophie.

‘He has a slight swelling in his top lip,’ said Tom, ‘so if it’s not the canines, it’s the incisors.’

Dr Sharp peered into the enclosure and glanced back at Violet. Violet nodded.

‘Ed, can we have a look at him in the hospital?’ Dr Sharp asked.

Mr Nightingale nodded and said, ‘I’ll call Katie.’

While Mr Nightingale was phoning Mrs Nightingale, Ziggy seemed to notice that he was being watched. He stalked towards the edge of his enclosure where everybody was standing, not taking his eyes off Dr Sharp. He bared his front teeth in a snarl. This made Dr Sharp stare even harder, so Ziggy gave a full-on roar, showing all his teeth at once.

‘What an extraordinary sight,’ Dr Sharp said, ‘Violet, did you see his canines?’

Violet nodded. ‘I think Tom and Sophie are right. Either an incisor or a canine has become infected. His top gum looks tender and discoloured.’

Ziggy roared again, even louder. This time, he kept his teeth bared even after he had finished roaring.

Then he turned away sharply, swishing his tail back and forth.

‘I’m pretty sure Ziggy doesn’t want to go to the dentist,’ said Tom. ‘I recognise the signs.’

Dr Sharp nodded. ‘I don’t think he’ll change his mind either. Fortunately your Mum’s on her way.’

At that moment, Mrs Nightingale arrived.

‘Are you sure you need Ziggy to be asleep?’ she asked with a smile. ‘He’s just a big pussycat really.’

‘We’re sure,’ Dr Sharp and Violet said together.

Mrs Nightingale called Ziggy and he looked up, seeming to recognise her voice. He walked slowly over to her and lay down alongside the mesh as if he was used to this routine. Mrs Nightingale took a syringe out of her case and quickly injected him in his rump. Ziggy didn’t flinch. He just looked at Mrs Nightingale over his shoulder and then back at his enclosure.

‘Doesn’t that hurt him?’ said Tom.

‘Not at all,’ said Mrs Nightingale. ‘He barely felt it. Years ago, to put a tiger like Ziggy to sleep, I’d have had to use a tranquilliser gun. Seeing the rifle used to make all the cats panic. Ever seen a lion or a tiger panicking?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Sophie.

‘You’d remember if you had,’ said Mrs Nightingale. ‘Anyway, we’ve trained them to let us do this instead.’

By this time, Ziggy was asleep.

‘OK, let’s get the patient to the hospital,’ said Mr Nightingale.

Mrs Nightingale fastened an oxygen tube to Ziggy’s mouth and attached monitor cables to his body so that she could keep an eye on his heartbeat and blood pressure. Then Mr Nightingale rolled the tiger on to a black hammock-like sheet and then, with help from Mrs Nightingale and another keeper, they lifted the tiger into the back of a zoo truck. Mr Nightingale squatted next to Ziggy and stroked him gently.

Tom and Sophie looked at their father expectantly.

‘Oh, go on then,’ Mr Nightingale said. ‘In you get.’

So Tom and Sophie sat in the back of the van with their father as Ziggy was driven through the zoo to the hospital. ‘He’s so soft,’ said Sophie, running her hands through his fur.

‘When he’s awake,’ Mr Nightingale said, ‘that fur is super-sensitive. It can detect the smallest pressure or faintest movement.’

‘Look at his massive paws,’ said Tom, stroking one of Ziggy’s front legs.

‘Those paws are pretty incredible too,’ said Mr Nightingale. ‘Like most other cats, he can decide when to show his claws and when to put them away. Imagine being able to move your fingernails in and out!’

Tom and Sophie looked down at Ziggy in wonder, their mouths open.