Next day I was packed ready to go to the airport. My brother had nailed slats on the top of the beer crate to make a lid and with a black felt tip pen we put an arrow on the side and wrote: This Way Up. The whole family got in the car. Then we looked around. Where's Babu? The children got out again and dashed about trying to find him. They looked under the bed - not there. They looked in the kitchen. There he was - sitting, waiting by the place where the fridge used to be. The little boy picked up Babu and took him out to the car. We were on our way to Mangere Airport with my luggage and the beer crate in the boot. I was worried that the children would not let Babu go. That they would see from his bright yellow green eyes that he was frightened and want to keep him.
At the car park near the terminal building, my brother got out, opened the boot and put my luggage on the ground. Then he picked up the beer crate and said. 'Hold onto Babu.'
The children held him while my brother manoeuvered the crate into the back seat. Then we popped the black furry bundle of trouble into the crate and fastened the lid. His tail was sticking out, so we had to poke it in carefully.
 'Remember. When you come back from your big trip, you'll be able to come and see Babu again at my place.' I said. The children were quiet. But they nodded. I set off with the crate and Babu. When I turned back to wave, the children waved and looked a bit sad, but nobody was crying. Babu was going to his new home in Wellington.