I eventually coaxed Wilson out of his tumble dryer by holding some of his favourite snacks in front of the glass door – snacks which I had prepared myself, including a bowl of chilled ant soup and a plate of ant lasagna, followed by ant scones with Cornish clotted cream, strawberry jam and extra ants.
By the time he started on the cream scones, I tried to tease some information from him, and it turns out that the 'medical emergency' to which he'd been summoned concerned his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua.
Apparently she was about to give birth to (yet another!!!) litter of pups and her gramophone had broken down. Mrs V can famously not give birth without Birthing Music, and although one of the zoo keepers had lent her an MP3 player, none of the anteaters knew how to work it. Wilson was the obvious choice to save the day by downloading and playing Metallica's Death Magnetic album to her at the critical time.
I asked why that had taken so long, and he replied that when all the birth-giving was over, Andrea had taken him aside and said she had something to tell him – something she thought he was now old enough to understand.
But he didn't want to talk about it.
Wilson is still sitting in the tumble dryer, looking desperately sad.
I asked Polly if she could cheer him up, or find out what's wrong, but neither she nor Billi could gain any insight.
Apparently W told them, 'Please don't waste your time trying to cheer me up – there's nothing you could say that would help.'
I hope I won't have to force open the tumble dryer door and take W to the animal psychiatrist again...
This morning, to my surprise, a taxi drew up outside – the driver rang at the front door and explained that he had a small anteater on board whom he'd just brought from the zoo, and requested me to pay the fare.
While I was paying the cabbie, Wilson walked slowly into the house, head down and wearing a troubled expression.
'Welcome home, Wilson!' I exclaimed, 'I've really missed you! How's your Mum?'
'Do you mean Mrs V?' he asked bleakly. 'She's fine.'
'And Byron? Andrea? Are they all well? Any new brothers or sisters?'
Without replying, Wilson simply made his way slowly to the Utility Room, where he climbed into his tumble dryer, drawing the door closed after him.
Something is very wrong, and I've no idea what it might be – I'll have a word with Polly to see if she can elicit any information from him.
I hate seeing him so upset when I'm powerless to help...
Wilson has been away visiting his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, for over a week now. I haven't heard from him and I'm getting a bit anxious.
He was summoned to the zoo due to a 'Medical Emergency' with Mrs V – I hope she's alright, or Wilson will be devastated.
This morning I telephoned the zoo, and the Head Keeper told me that Wilson would be home 'very soon' but he's having some difficulties assimilating some 'bad news' he's received.
She wouldn't elaborate on what this bad news might be, due to what she called 'Resident Confidentiality', but she did say she thought W would get over it soon – though he might need some extra TLC.
I await his return with trepidation...
