“And that’s just the beginning. They create all kinds of other problems, too. Building everywhere, cutting down trees, damming rivers, changing the atmosphere, heating up the oceans—I mean, forget about squirrels; those apes are making a dozen species extinct every single day. They’re making pangolins extinct by catching them and grinding them up into medicine. And the medicine doesn’t even work!”

“I get it.” Kate sat down in an armchair glumly. “You’re talking about humans.”

“What I still don’t understand,” the porcupine said, “is how you did it all without quills.”

“Or venom,” said the snake.

“Or wings.”

“You know what I could go for right now?” the cat said. “A nice fish.”

“You asked before where we were all going,” the heron said, “and I think nobody wanted to say it, but the truth is that we’re running away from you.”

Kate looked around at the animals. She’d become so fond of them.

“I didn’t realize,” she said in a small voice.

“Green mambas aren’t endangered,” the snake said. “I’d like to see you humans endanger a mamba! But you’re tearing down my forest, so I’m going to Mozambique. The fishing cats are in real trouble, though.”

“It’s true.” The cat began washing her face as casually as if she were talking about the weather. “There aren’t many of us left. People hunt us and trap us and poison us. They’re paving over our lovely marshes. I’m here because they’re draining my mangrove swamp to build a hotel. But the white-bellied herons are even worse off.”

“Oh, nonsense,” the heron said modestly.

“Go on! You must be down to a few hundred.”

The great bird sighed. “It’s true. At this point we’re almost extinct. People hunt us and steal our eggs. They dammed my river to make a power plant.”

For a moment nobody spoke.

“We’re fine,” the porcupine said. “Thanks for asking, everybody. No shortage of porcupines.”

“Everything’s changing,” the heron said. “Animals are on the move all over the world. We’re refugees, just like people. Look at the poor polar bear!”

“What about her?” Kate said miserably.

“She was waiting for the train,” the mamba said, “but her station was made of ice. It melted in the warm weather and she was left swimming by herself in the middle of the ocean. By the time you came, it was almost too late.”