“Sit!” I said in a firm voice. I didn’t think he’d obey, but Ugly slowly sat down, the way dogs do when they really don’t want to. I slipped him a small treat, patted him, and told him he was good. Then I quickly looked over my shoulder.
The cat was still sitting there, and I’m sure I saw a curtain in Mrs. Manchester’s front window lift and fall. She was spying. I wasn’t going to let that woman and her smarty-pants cat wreck Ugly’s chances right at the start of his test. We couldn’t stand there forever waiting for the cat to move, but if we walked past her, I knew I’d lose control of Ugly.
The only thing left to do was to not walk past Mrs. Manchester’s house. But we couldn’t retreat and go back home; that would be failing too. We still had to get to the park. I gave a quick tug on Ugly’s leash and said, “Walk!”
I moved in a new direction so that Ugly was walking away from the cat and toward the edge of the road, where I made him sit again. Then we crossed the road. We walked along the sidewalk on the other side of the road, past two houses. Then I walked to the edge of the road and made Ugly sit again, and we crossed back again so we arrived just where the park was. Maggie was following, but she didn’t say anything.
What happened in the park might also be a mixture of good and unfortunate. I’m waiting to hear what Maggie will say about it. Maggie was asking me to make Ugly sit, stay, and come. He was doing it okay, but Mrs. Manchester suddenly arrived. She was holding a little boy’s hand. He looked about four years old. He climbed onto a swing and Mrs. Manchester started to push him. Ugly rushed across to play with the boy. The boy laughed happily as Ugly showed off by running around in little circles. I walked across and held on to Ugly so that the boy could pat him.
“This is my grandson, Jack,” said Mrs. Manchester.
“Hello, Jack,” I said. “This is my dog—Ugly.”
“He’s not ugly,” said Jack. “He’s booful.”
“I think he’s beautiful too,” I said.
Ugly wagged his tail and gave a happy yap.
After that, I led Ugly to a quiet corner of the park where we could continue with his obedience testing. I could see Mrs. Manchester had finished pushing Jack on the swing. She was now helping him up the ladder to the slide. At the same moment, a tall man with a hoodie pulled so far down over his face that you couldn’t see his eyes came running across the park. It looked like he was heading for Mrs. Manchester. Maggie and I stopped and looked to see what the man wanted.
What happened next was a shock. The man ran right up to Mrs. Manchester, who had her back to him, and grabbed the strap of her handbag, which was over her shoulder. Mrs. Manchester lost her balance and nearly fell.
“No!” she yelled, and Jack started crying loudly.
Everything after that happened before you could count to three. I was staring, frozen. Even Maggie was frozen. But Ugly wasn’t. He was tearing across the grass toward the handbag thief. He was jumping and dancing in circles around the man. The man tried to kick Ugly. I called Ugly, and he dived past the man again and tried to run back to me. In the same moment, the man tripped over Ugly and went sprawling. Mrs. Manchester’s handbag flew across the grass. By then, Maggie and I were running to help Mrs. Manchester and Jack.
The man yelled some incredibly rude words at Ugly. He pulled himself up and limped, staggered, and jogged out of sight.
Maggie was looking after Mrs. Manchester and young Jack. I checked on poor Ugly. He came up to me with his tail between his legs. He didn’t like getting shouted at by the man, but he probably also felt guilty about running away from his obedience test. Just the same, I patted him and said, “Good dog. You saved Mrs. Manchester’s handbag.”
Although his tail stayed low, it started wagging a tiny bit. It was like he was saying, “Please don’t be mad at me. I was only doing my best.”
“Your dog saved my handbag,” said Mrs. Manchester, holding her grandson to her like she’d never let him go. “I couldn’t care less about any money being stolen. It’s the baby photos in there of young Jack with my dear husband who died three years back. They’re precious. I was going to get extra prints made. Ugly is a brave and intelligent dog—even if he does give my cat a little too much attention.”
I think Ugly is brave and intelligent too, but what do Maggie and the rest of my family think? They’re all in the kitchen, talking about Ugly. This pen keeps dropping out of my hand. I have to jerk myself awake. I’ll just rest my head for a few minutes and then I’ll start writing again when I’m fresher.
27
The Ending
I’m over the moon. Last night was wonderful. I had fallen asleep with this book on my chest. Dad woke me up with the news that Maggie and my family also think Ugly is a good, brave dog! Maggie says I’ve done “some solid work” with Ugly. As long as I continue with dog training classes, Maggie knows Ugly will be in good hands. Ugly is here to stay!
I’ve already started planning what Ugly and I are going to do together. And now that I’ve almost finished writing this book, I’ve decided to write another book. It will be about training and looking after dogs. I’ll be writing it for kids like me. It will have sections on things like:
• how to stop a dog chasing a cat
• what to do if your dog poops under or on your bed
• how to stop a dog chewing your school projects and precious possessions
• how to stop a puppy from biting your toes
• games dogs like to play
• why your dog stares at you
• how to tell if your dog is hypnotizing you and what to do about it
• ten smelly, yummy dog treat recipes
• how to stop a dog from eating other dogs’ poop
• how to stop a dog from eating your socks or running off with your sister’s tights
• what to feed a dog so it doesn’t have stinky farts
• twelve reasons dogs have bad breath
• how to read your dog’s future by its paw
• tips on how to stick to training even when you don’t seem to be getting anywhere
• dog psychology—how to tell if your dog is lonely, sad, embarrassed, jealous, angry, or bored
• useful and unusual tricks to teach your dog
This afternoon we had a graduation ceremony for Ugly. We had a big crowd. All of our family of Brights was there—Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Gretchen, and Gretchen’s boyfriend, Shane. My school friends, Milly (with a red ribbon around her ponytail) and Hugh, who had made a big poster that said, CONGRATULATIONS ECCLE AND UGLY!, were there too. Mrs. Manchester was also there (without Penelope), and she had her grandson, Jack, and his mother, Nina, with her. Of course, Maggie, who had spent so much time helping me learn how to train Ugly, was there, as well.
The party was in the back garden. Hugh, Milly, and I decorated Ugly’s doghouse with flowers. We also made Ugly a necklace of flowers, but he shook it off. I gave Ugly a new chewy toy—a rubber chicken that squeaks. He likes it a lot. Maggie made Ugly sit and then she presented him and me with a graduation certificate:
Something really amazing happened next. Jack’s mom, Nina, stepped forward.
“The Manchester family have something to give Ugly too. This dog saved my mother-in-law’s handbag and the photos inside. We’re giving Ugly a year’s supply of dog treats and this medal.”
Nina handed me a ginormous plastic bag full of packets of dog treats. Next, she held out a golden dog tag. It looked just like a small Olympic medal. We all took a look. These words were on it:
UGLY
DOG HERO
The medal had a tiny hole at the top so that I could hang it on his collar. Ugly sat quietly while I attached it. When I had finished, he leaped around yapping. His tail was spinning in happy circles. Everyone clapped and laughed. Ugly barked even more. He grinned and rushed around, getting pats. His medal sparkled in th
e sun.
Now it was time for Ugly to amaze everyone with the trick I’ve been secretly teaching him.
I held up my hand. “Sit!” I said to Ugly. He sat down, and I gave him a treat.
“Look at me!” I said. Ugly’s ears pricked up and his bright eyes peered through his bangs into mine.
“Hello, Ugly!” I said, spreading my hand out like a star in front of Ugly’s face.
“Huuwoo!” said Ugly, and he grinned. “Huuwoo!” he said again.
The cheering was deafening. Ugly woofed and woofed and thumped his tail on the ground. I crouched down beside him, and he gave my face a slobbery lick. “Ewww,” I said, laughing and wiping away the dog slobber. I thought about the amazing things that had happened in my life and in Ugly’s life. I wrapped my arms around Ugly and pressed my face into my friend’s big furry chest. At the same moment, I thought, Of course, my dog still doesn’t like me—instead, he loves me, and I love him!
Acknowledgments
Eric thanks Meg H. for generously sharing her expert knowledge about dogs and their responsible care. He apologizes if he has in any way misconstrued her advice, and he assures her that he will continue to work assiduously on his dog handling skills.
Elizabeth Fensham is very grateful to the UQP team—Kristina Schultz, Michele Perry, and Karin Cox—for their helpful insights and guidance. She thanks her husband, Robert, for his warmhearted and practical support. Her appreciation is also extended to Timothy and Alison Fensham for valued insights.
Finally, big hugs and heartfelt thanks to all the children who helped Eric with his research. Your ideas were hilarious and brilliant.
About the Author
Elizabeth Fensham lives in Victoria’s Dandenong Ranges. She is married to an artist and has two adult sons. Fensham has been writing in earnest for the last twenty years. Her first novel, The Helicopter Man, won the Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA) Book of the Year for Younger Readers in 2006. Previous young adult novels include Miss McAllister’s Ghost and Goodbye Jamie Boyd, which was shortlisted for the Bologna Book Fair’s White Ravens Award in 2009. Elizabeth’s younger reader novel, Matty Forever, was shortlisted for the CBCA Book of the Year for Younger Readers in 2009. The companion, Bill Rules, was published in 2010. Her most recent young adult book is the moving The Invisible Hero, which won the Speech Pathology Australia Book of the Year Award in 2012 and is listed as an International Board on Books for Young People (IBBY) book.
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My Dog Made Me Write This Book Page 7