1.

‘Davey, laddie,’ said John McTavish. ‘What shall we do this fine day? I think maybe we should venture towards the centre and explore that new French café. I can smell that coffee from here.’

The black and white terrier was scrabbling frantically in his food bowl. He tore himself away for a second to look up at his master. He barked twice.

‘Davey, we’re going for a walk. Let’s get your leash. Are you ready, laddie? To the park!’

McTavish set the pace to Brisk, and they marched downstairs and out of the front door. After heading due east, they entered the Edinburgh Inverleith Park at the Thistle Street end. Once there, John McTavish released Davey from his leash. He bounded across the grass towards the pond.

‘Watch the swans and ducks, boy, they’ll bite you,’ said McTavish.

Davey looked back, and slowed down for a second before natural exuberance bore him onward. Nearing the swans, he came to a halt, gambolling up and down on one spot. He growled, intent on taunting the birds.

They stared at him, appraising the risk of danger. But deciding the dog was all noise and vim, they turned away to continue grazing and grooming. Two flopped into the pond with a loud splosh. Davey yapped at these two, but had lost some of his fizz.

McTavish sat down on a bench, passively watching the goings-on in front of him. He kept half an eye on Davey. Taking in the fresh air, he reflected that he ought to get out more. It was the good exercise and energised your hackles.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The sounds of the park gently receded, and McTavish found himself in the Palace of Holyroodhouse. He was addressing the luminaries of the Royal Society of Scotland.

2.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ began John McTavish.

‘Thank you for coming to listen to me today, a modest scientist ill at ease in this great auditorium. Today, I took my dog Davey to the park, and he sniffed out some insects in the shrubbery. It got me thinking, and this is what I was thinking about.

‘A long time ago, as of course you know, the dinosaurs roamed the Earth. They were a quite incredible species. Large and powerful, they dominated the planet. Until, so we have been told, an event occurred which wiped them out overnight.

‘Asteroids crashing into the Earth? I hear you say. Disease wreaking havoc with the poor creatures? No, I’ll tell you what happened, for I was there. I’m a mite older than I look!

‘What happened was this. There was a cosmological event one day, but not a cataclysmic one. No! Just a wee one. It was the arrival of a species from the outer reaches of the cosmos. Between you and me, I think they had a wee taste for our sun. Be that as it may, we had one ship, two beasties. Would you ken what those beasties were?’

The audience of great thinkers were perplexed. Was the speaker mad? Was he simply wacky? Or a full-on nutcase? They pondered the conundrum in silence. Maybe we’ll give him a while longer. They did, however, keep up a continuous observation of the oddity on the platform.

‘They were ants, ladies and gentlemen. Not as we know them, because these were Ants. My goodness me! Enormous, they were. They made the dinosaurs look pretty modest, I can tell you.

‘Two gigantic Ants, come to Earth. No one saw them, apart from myself. The Earth genuinely suited them. They propagated and, over the centuries, became endemic.

3.

‘Inevitably, the Ants went toe-to-toe with the dinosaurs, but the physical stature of the Ants prevailed. They won the battle for domination. Sadly, the dinosaurs died out.

‘The Ants were content until the crisis. Overpopulation. There were too many of them on the Earth, and not enough space.’

A murmur of interest spread through the audience.

‘But why did they not take off in that spaceship of theirs, and find a bigger world to colonise? The answer is simple. There were too many of them. They had the technology to build the ships, but not the resources or time to build the number needed. An alternative solution was called for.’

The audience were rapt, for the tale had suddenly become captivating.

‘The answer was obvious, really. If you can’t migrate your great beasties to a bigger planet, you’d better make them smaller and leave them where they are.’

The audience were stunned. Thoughts were running to the crisis of human global overpopulation.

‘I see you’re with me. Yes, the Ants instituted a scientific project to ascertain how their bodily dimensions might safely be reduced.

‘It took decades to come to fruition, maybe centuries. Did they get there? Of course they did. That is why, in our world today, the ants are tiny, yet dominant on a global scale.

‘What, then, is the lesson for us, we humans? Just this. We need to establish the same project for ourselves to solve our overpopulation crisis. And establish it we will, starting today.

‘It will be called the McTavish Project.’

The audience were awestruck. They roared in appreciation of the odd man in their presence. McTavish became disorientated when the cacophony in the auditorium transformed into a wild flapping and honking. When he recognised the sound of his Davey barking, his eyes opened.

4.

In front of him, the swans and the ducks were squawking and rushing about, desperate to escape the attentions of the diminutive dog with a manic look in his eyes. They didn’t seem to focus on the relative safety of the pond. Oh, Heaven forbid! What’s the boy doing?

‘Davey! Stop it! Come here. What are you doing? Leave the poor birds alone. Davey!’

The dog was bewildered at first, but he had registered his master’s call, and stood transfixed.

‘Davey, here boy!’

This time, the dog heeded the call. He came rushing up to his master, wagging his tail in sheer joy. McTavish grabbed hold of Davey’s collar.

‘Now calm yourself, boy. Take it easy!’

At last, Davey managed to control his wild gyrations. McTavish slipped the lead onto his collar, and wound it tightly around his wrist.

‘Come on, boy. Time to go.’

He stood up and led Davey towards the exit. The sun was edging out from behind a cloud.

‘Will you look at that. A glorious bit of sun, just as we’re leaving!’

But the dog was paying no attention to his master. His nose was twitching at the wonderful scents on the path.

‘Maybe we’re all aliens, Davey, eh, lad? What do you think?’

The terrier chose that moment to stop for a sniff and a tiddle.

‘All the same to you, lad?’ McTavish shook his head. ‘I think I had a wee doze back there, Davey. I hope you weren’t tormenting the birdies overmuch.’

Davey yapped.

‘Time for that coffee, if you think you can be good and quiet. If you cannot, lad, we’ll be straight off home. You get me?’

Davey barked, and dog and master ambled out of the park. A latte in the Café des Soldats would go down very nicely.

The end.