demanded the doctor. He did not really want to ask but he could not help but be curious.
‘It doesn’t,’ explained Nanny Piggins, ‘but it really cheers the patient up.’
‘Why are you trying to ruin my business?’ asked the doctor.
‘I’m not,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I’m merely trying to supply a better alternative.’
‘Cake, lemonade and fudge are no alternative to clinical medicine,’ complained the doctor.
‘Maybe not, but it is a quicker alternative,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘and people are tired of waiting in your waiting room.’
‘This won’t last,’ prophesied the doctor. ‘Mypatients will come back. They will have their cake, but they will want their medicine too.’
With that the doctor stormed back to his surgery and sat inside, sulking, as Nanny Piggins did a roaring trade, selling cake and sweet goods all day long.
As I am sure you have already guessed, the doctor was completely wrong. Three days later, his waiting room was still completely empty and Nanny Piggins’ cake stall was still thriving. He sat in his office, looking out the window and feeling very sorry for himself. For the first time in twenty years of practising medicine, a thought occurred to him that had never occurred to him before. Maybe he was not as important as he thought he was. It was a very depressing idea. It made him feel all hollow and empty inside. His eyes started to itch. A lump formed in his throat. Then the doctor realised what he needed. He needed a piece of cake to cheer himself up.
And so the doctor swallowed his pride because he wanted to swallow some cake. He crossed the street and approached Nanny Piggins, looking very sad.
‘What do you want?’ asked Nanny Piggins.
‘A slice of lemon drizzle cake please,’ mumbled the doctor.
Nanny Piggins considered torturing him some more, pretending she had run out of cake, and making him beg for it. But she could see he was a broken man. So, being a compassionate pig, she cut him a large slice (and a slice that Nanny Piggins considered large was very large indeed).
‘A lesser pig would tell you to go away. But when I became a holistic cake healer, I took the Hippopigic Oath – swearing to never withhold cake from anyone who needed it, no matter who they were, how rude they were, or how long they kept their patients waiting in their waiting room.’
‘That seems an awfully specific oath,’ said the doctor.
‘Do you want your cake or not?’ snapped Nanny Piggins.
And the doctor hurriedly took it. As soon as he swallowed his first bite, he started to feel better. ‘So are you going to have your cake stall here forever then?’ he asked resignedly.
‘Perhaps not quite forever,’ admitted Nanny Piggins.
‘You’re not?’ asked the doctor, now starting to really brighten up.
‘Much as I enjoy being a holistic cake healer, it isn’t really my calling,’ said Nanny Piggins.
‘It’s not?’ asked the doctor, actually starting to smile again, in between shovelling mouthfuls of lemon drizzle cake into his mouth.
‘You see, I have a career dilemma. While I am a very good at prescribing cake, my true talent lies elsewhere. I have an even greater gift for eating cake,’ said Nanny Piggins immodestly, but truthfully. ‘It presents a terrible conflict of interest.’
‘It does?’ said the doctor. Now he almost wanted to kiss Nanny Piggins he was so grateful.
‘Tell him the real reason you want to give up being a holistic cake healer, Nanny Piggins,’ chided Samantha.
Nanny Piggins looked away shiftily. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You’re going to need the doctor’s help to solve the problem,’ prompted Derrick.
‘You have a problem I can help with?’ said the doctor, now positively gleeful.
‘No,’ said Nanny Piggins petulantly.
‘Lying is wrong,’ Michael reminded her.
‘All right, all right! I’ll admit it. My patients have been coming down with a few problems,’ confessed Nanny
‘It doesn’t,’ explained Nanny Piggins, ‘but it really cheers the patient up.’
‘Why are you trying to ruin my business?’ asked the doctor.
‘I’m not,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I’m merely trying to supply a better alternative.’
‘Cake, lemonade and fudge are no alternative to clinical medicine,’ complained the doctor.
‘Maybe not, but it is a quicker alternative,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘and people are tired of waiting in your waiting room.’
‘This won’t last,’ prophesied the doctor. ‘Mypatients will come back. They will have their cake, but they will want their medicine too.’
With that the doctor stormed back to his surgery and sat inside, sulking, as Nanny Piggins did a roaring trade, selling cake and sweet goods all day long.
As I am sure you have already guessed, the doctor was completely wrong. Three days later, his waiting room was still completely empty and Nanny Piggins’ cake stall was still thriving. He sat in his office, looking out the window and feeling very sorry for himself. For the first time in twenty years of practising medicine, a thought occurred to him that had never occurred to him before. Maybe he was not as important as he thought he was. It was a very depressing idea. It made him feel all hollow and empty inside. His eyes started to itch. A lump formed in his throat. Then the doctor realised what he needed. He needed a piece of cake to cheer himself up.
And so the doctor swallowed his pride because he wanted to swallow some cake. He crossed the street and approached Nanny Piggins, looking very sad.
‘What do you want?’ asked Nanny Piggins.
‘A slice of lemon drizzle cake please,’ mumbled the doctor.
Nanny Piggins considered torturing him some more, pretending she had run out of cake, and making him beg for it. But she could see he was a broken man. So, being a compassionate pig, she cut him a large slice (and a slice that Nanny Piggins considered large was very large indeed).
‘A lesser pig would tell you to go away. But when I became a holistic cake healer, I took the Hippopigic Oath – swearing to never withhold cake from anyone who needed it, no matter who they were, how rude they were, or how long they kept their patients waiting in their waiting room.’
‘That seems an awfully specific oath,’ said the doctor.
‘Do you want your cake or not?’ snapped Nanny Piggins.
And the doctor hurriedly took it. As soon as he swallowed his first bite, he started to feel better. ‘So are you going to have your cake stall here forever then?’ he asked resignedly.
‘Perhaps not quite forever,’ admitted Nanny Piggins.
‘You’re not?’ asked the doctor, now starting to really brighten up.
‘Much as I enjoy being a holistic cake healer, it isn’t really my calling,’ said Nanny Piggins.
‘It’s not?’ asked the doctor, actually starting to smile again, in between shovelling mouthfuls of lemon drizzle cake into his mouth.
‘You see, I have a career dilemma. While I am a very good at prescribing cake, my true talent lies elsewhere. I have an even greater gift for eating cake,’ said Nanny Piggins immodestly, but truthfully. ‘It presents a terrible conflict of interest.’
‘It does?’ said the doctor. Now he almost wanted to kiss Nanny Piggins he was so grateful.
‘Tell him the real reason you want to give up being a holistic cake healer, Nanny Piggins,’ chided Samantha.
Nanny Piggins looked away shiftily. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You’re going to need the doctor’s help to solve the problem,’ prompted Derrick.
‘You have a problem I can help with?’ said the doctor, now positively gleeful.
‘No,’ said Nanny Piggins petulantly.
‘Lying is wrong,’ Michael reminded her.
‘All right, all right! I’ll admit it. My patients have been coming down with a few problems,’ confessed Nanny
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