“No! I can’t.” The little pachyderm plopped down dramatically in front of the herd.
“Yes, you can,” replied his aunt, not slowing. “We haven’t been walking for long. A big, strong pachyderm could keep going.”
“I’m too hurt, I can’t stand. Look.” As his aunt passed by, the little pachyderm tossed himself onto his side, puffing dust into the air.
“Now, now,” chastised his older cousin, “you chased after that ground bird just fine. Get up.” She flapped her ears at him and kept walking.
“I’m too weak to get up unless we stop!” trumpeted the little one pathetically, turning onto his back.
The matriarch, his grandmother, never even looked at the young one.
“The water hole is half a day ahead, we need to keep walking,” she called out to no pachyderm in particular.
“I can only walk if you pick me up,” whined the little pachyderm, stretching his trunk toward the passing females.
“No, you’re having a tantrum,” replied his mother, bringing up the rear of the herd. “Calm down and come along.” She paused for just a moment.
“I’ll calm down if we stop!” trumpeted the little pachyderm, kicking out his rear legs.
“Too bad,” said his mother, beginning to walk again. She shook her head from side to side. “I’ll miss my big, brave pachyderm.”
As she passed him, the little pachyderm realized the herd really had left him behind. Springing up, he chased after his mother.
“Mommy!” yelled the little pachyderm. Getting no response, he caught up to her and started swinging his trunk into her side.
“No, stop that!” trumpeted his mother. She stopped and flared her ears at the little one. “We have tolerated your nonsense all morning, young pachyderm. But we will not have a rogue in our herd. Elephants never hit!”
“Sorry, Mommy.” The little pachyderm drooped his ears and lowered his trunk.
“Thank you for saying sorry,” nodded his mother. “Now come along.”
Looking up, the little pachyderm whined softly, “Can you carry me?”