Missing Toby

by Jill Harris

  “Are you there, Gus?” he called quietly. No answer. They were late-risers next door and didn’t go in for daily walks. “Jolly good thing,” Gus always said. “You can overdo exercise at my age.”

  Max walked along the road towards the park, on the leash, his nose catching a thousand scents: his own and Gus’s, of course; but Lulu, Sam, Rover and Momma had all been along here; and their owners, who each left their peculiar human scent behind. Smells as though an army of cats has been marching along here, too, thought Max wrinkling his nose. Trash – shouldn’t be allowed out.

  Suddenly he stopped, the lead jerking his collar sharply. That smell: female, young, frightened. Something else, too – sick maybe, or an injury? The woman stood patiently while he sniffed in a circle. This isn’t a dog from round here, he thought, so where is she? Why haven’t we seen her – unless she’s working hard at hiding? Something else to ask the others about, thought Max.

  “Let’s keep going,” said the woman tugging at the lead, and they walked on. All the morning busyness was still inside the houses – windows were open, and out floated mouth-watering smells. Sometimes Max imagined himself dashing in, leaping on a table and snatching whatever it was that produced those smells. He would be so speedy – the humans would be dazzled by his daring, He shook himself. For goodness sake, Max, he thought, get real!

  Who’s here? he wondered as they turned into the park. Owners stood talking while their dogs took the chance to catch up on the Woof. Closest was Momma, deep in conversation with Minnie, her ears flapping as she talked. Better not interrupt them, thought Max, don’t want a flea in my ear. The woman unclipped the lead. He’d do some running and barking, even though he felt like a fool, so she’d think he was getting his exercise for the day. Across the field he saw Elmer being polite to old Thaddeus. Elmer would be pleased to be interrupted, so Max ran hard, barking loudly for effect.

  Elmer could be a bit touchy so Max sidled up to him wagging his tail gently. He sniffed Elmer’s tail, not too close.

  “Morning, Elmer.” Both dogs sniffed him back.

  The three dogs politely looked away from each other for a while.

  “You guys seen a stranger round here?” Max asked. “Female, young, might be sick or injured.”

  Neither dog could help, though Thaddeus smirked that he wouldn’t mind bumping into her. The conversation moved on – did the dog-catcher have a routine, who’d been picked up, how long did it take their owners to collect them, and what was the safest way to get along the main road. Thaddeus wandered off and Max steered the conversation back to his real question.

  “Called in to see the new dog on the main road – not too far from your place, Elmer,” he said.

  “That’s one unhappy dog,” replied Elmer. “The whining and barking is almost non-stop. Bit better yesterday afternoon,” he continued. “That when you called?”

  Max nodded. “Drinking bowl nearly empty, no shade: a bad business. When are the owners away?”

  “She’s not usually there in the morning; not sure about the afternoon. I’ll keep an eye on it and give you a call.”

  “What about the houses overlooking the garden?”

  “No one there all day on one side,” said Elmer. “Other side, there’s a woman – though you hardly ever see her – and a kid. The woman takes her out in the car most days.”

  They paused to watch Lulu trotting across to join them, her paws moving daintily through the grass.

  “Hi, guys.” She fluttered her eyelashes and twitched one elegant, clipped, black ear. “What’s the Woof?”

  They went through the sniffing greeting. Max never felt he measured up with Lulu. She had a way of looking at him with her beautiful head poised to one side. Beside Elmer – blond, muscular, with a great plume of a tail – he suspected he looked slightly ridiculous.

  “We’re talking about the new dog who’s moved in along the road,” said Elmer. “Max and Gus have been to see him.”

  “Wouldn’t waste your time,” drawled Lulu. “He’ll never amount to anything. I mean, where’s the breeding? You can tell it’s not there by the voice.” She glanced at Max.

  Max lifted his chin and his tail. “Useful information, Elmer,” he said. “Thanks.”

  “Pleased to help,” Elmer replied. “You two do a great job. How much longer do you think Gus can keep it up?”

  Max’s tail dropped. “That’s his business.” His voice was tight.

  “No offence,” said Elmer. “See you round, Max.”

  Before he could talk to Minnie, the woman called, put the leash on and set off for home, stopping for Max to let go on his trees. I’m lucky, thought Max. Not like that poor fellow who’s trained to within an inch of his life and never let off the leash.

  By the time they reached home, the Rush could be heard. Soon the man and the woman would join it. First, it was breakfast and time for stroking – back, stomach, under his chin and round his ears. This alone was worth being a kept dog, thought Max. He rewarded the man with his best smile and licks and the man picked him up for a final cuddle.

  “You’re the best dog in the world, Max,” he said “Look after things while we’re away, old boy.”

  The woman filled his bowl and put him on the rope. Had she left him his stuffed chew? Yep – beside the kennel. They locked the door and walked to the garage.

  It was cool this morning so Max went into his kennel and dozed for a while. Best to give them a few minutes in case they’d left anything behind.

  The sun was sending lances of light through the trees turning the leaves copper and lime. The hydrangeas shook, and Gus emerged and padded over.

  “Pick up any Woof this morning?” he inquired.

  Max climbed out of the kennel and stretched luxuriously.

  “And good morning to you, too,” he said. Max passed on what Elmer had told him. “The best time to go is early afternoon before the kid next door comes home. Kids are nosey.”

  They decided to visit Brutus that afternoon.

  “There’s something else, though,” said Max. “A stranger-scent by the corner – female, young, and sick or injured. She obviously doesn’t want to be seen, but the sick smell bothers me. It could be a threat to the rest of us.”

  “She’ll be looking for food,” said Gus. “Lean pickings round here – not much rubbish.”

  “What about the park? If she’s scavenging there and we’ve caught her scent near the corner, she must be coming from beyond the corner.”

  “The reserve’s quite a distance up that road,” said Gus. “She’s more likely to be living rough in the patch of bush behind the Old House, where the stream comes out. It’s full of junk: she could have cut a paw.”

  “Wouldn’t I have seen blood?”

  “Might be infected – that’s what you smelt.” Gus scratched himself lazily as he did when he was thinking. “We should do a night watch.”

  “Tonight? If we go to see Brutus this afternoon, that’s enough risk for one day.”

  “But what’s more urgent?” asked Gus.

  “We don’t know for sure about the other dog,” said Max. “Let’s stick with Brutus.”

  A whistle sounded. “Gotta go,” said Gus. “Meet you on the road as soon as the shadows lean the other way. That’s when he has his sleep.” He stood up with a groan and ambled off.

  Gus had slowed down. It worried Max – he couldn’t imagine doing things on his own. He’s the brains, I just run the messages, thought Max, and his tail drooped.

  Hey, tails up, he said to himself, time for rounds. He trotted off to check out the smells.

  First Meeting

  “I feel a bit funny,” Harriet said next morning, “I’ve got a headache and a sore neck, and I’m not going back to school.”

  Her parents exchanged glances. Her mother put her hand on Harriet’s forehead to feel how hot it was.

  “Your call,” said her father to her mother and went off to work.

  “You haven’t got a temperature, and
you can’t keep missing school, Harry,” said her mother. “Every time you do it’s harder to go back.”

  “Everyone will be looking at me after yesterday,” said Harriet, “and the teachers will use this special voice as though they think I’ll cry. I hate it. I haven’t got a best friend. Nobody chooses me to be in their group. I just can’t go back – I might bump into Tim.”

  “Oh, Harry,” sighed her mother. She put her arms around her. “It is awfully hard to get back into things, but we can’t give up.”

  “Well, you get headaches and I feel funny,” said Harriet, “and how do you know I’m not getting sick like Toby? Maybe I’ve caught the same bug.”

  Her mother didn’t answer and Harriet got to stay home.

  Actually, it wasn’t much fun – it took ages to get to lunchtime and she was in her bedroom with nothing to do. She wondered how she could fix things up with Tim.

  A ‘yip’ floated up through the window. She looked out. Those two dogs were with Brutus again. As she watched, Brutus wriggled out of his collar. But can he get it on again? she wondered. As though he’d heard her thoughts, he pushed his nose into the collar and rubbed his head along the kennel. This time it worked. The big dog yipped again – as though he were saying, ‘well done’. Brutus did it several times.

  I’m going down! Harriet decided. Her mother was having an afternoon sleep. She tip-toed out and through the gate into next door. When she reached the corner of the house she could see the three dogs down by the pond. They were watching her. Harriet wondered what to do next. Brutus gave a low growl, but the small, ginger dog trotted over, tail wagging and his ears pricked forward. This feels friendly, thought Harriet and she held out her hand. The dog stretched out his nose and let her scratch him under the chin.

  “Hello,” she said, “I’m Harriet and I can see you from my bedroom window. Where do you come from? I thought dogs weren’t allowed to wander on their own.” I know they can’t understand me, she thought, but I want to sound friendly.

  The small dog blinked and stretched his mouth – like a smile, thought Harriet. She wondered if it’d be all right to walk over to the other dogs, but before she could move Brutus barked loudly and bounded towards her, muzzle wrinkled and teeth showing. Harriet froze. Where could she escape to? She wouldn’t make it back to the gate.

  In a flash, Max leapt towards Brutus, snarling and barking. “How dare you, you low-life! Stop right there!”

  Gus was crossing the lawn as fast as he could, tail held high. “I warn you,” he snarled, “one step further and I’ll bite!”

  Brutus faltered – one angry dog in front of him, another behind. He skidded to a stop and cowered as Gus and Max pounced to within a whisker of him, both growling.

  “Don’t you ever, ever do anything like that again!” growled Gus. “You want our help, you learn to behave!”

  “Trash,” snarled Max, “get back to your kennel and put on your collar.”

  Brutus was whining: “Leave me alone, leave me alone. I’m sorry.” He slunk away, head down, ears flat against his head.

  Harriet stared in amazement, heart banging. All that snarling and growling – as though the two dogs were telling Brutus off. They walked over and rubbed their heads against her legs. She wasn’t entirely sure she was safe. But they looked at her with such friendly eyes that she gradually relaxed. Then they trotted to the gate, looking back as if to say ‘come with us’. She followed. It’s as though they’re escorting me home, thought Harriet. She patted them. The big dog swept his thick tail from side to side and the small dog wagged his funny, bent tail.

  “Thank you for rescuing me,” said Harriet and went through the gate. “I wish I knew your names and where you lived. I’d like to be friends.” She walked away.

  Gus and Max looked at each other. “That could have been nasty,” said Gus. “You saved the day. I couldn’t have got there quickly enough.”

  “We’d better deal with Brutus,” said Max.

  They returned to where Brutus stood trembling. “Please don’t hurt me,” he whined.

  “Proper dogs don’t attack unless they have no choice,” said Gus sternly. “Proper dogs don’t start a fight. Proper dogs make the world a safer, happier place. That girl will never trust you again, and may never trust any dog again. You should be ashamed.”

  “Get your collar back on,” snapped Max. “Don’t ever slip it again unless you truly have to. It’s a pity we showed you how to get out of it – you’re not to be trusted.”

  Brutus lifted his head towards Gus and gave him a hesitant lick on his muzzle. “Please come back again,” he pleaded. “Please don’t leave me here on my own.”

  “That girl Harriet would’ve been your friend,” said Gus. “She’s lonely and unhappy – you can smell it a mile off. She would have visited you and taken you for walks. I just hope she doesn’t say anything about what happened – that would be bad for all of us. Foolish Brutus. No, we won’t stop coming. We have to teach you how to behave. It’s not your fault you have a rotten owner.”

  He and Max made their way towards the hedge. Brutus watched them go before getting back into his collar.

  Surprise in the Letterbox

  That Saturday, Harriet and her mum walked to the park. The main road was nearly as busy as during the week. “Everyone’s heading for the shops,” said her mother walking along briskly.

  “Mum,” said Harriet, “can I have a dog?”

  “So he can bark all day like Brutus? No thank you.”

  “But Brutus has been better lately.”

  “Why don’t you make friends with him, then?”

  “He doesn’t want to be friends – I’ve tried. I’m scared of him.”

  “We’re not dog people, Harry. You’ve got to know what you’re doing. That’s the trouble with Brutus – Mrs Martin doesn’t know what to do.”

  “But we could learn. We could get a book. Lots of people round here have dogs – we could ask them.”

  “I’m sure Dad would say no.”

  “Please, Mum, it would be like having a best friend.”

  “It wouldn’t really, Harry,” said her mother gently. “I’m sure you’ll make a best friend soon. Amanda’s asked you to her party.”

  That’s because Amanda’s got hardly any friends either, thought Harriet. But she felt mean thinking that. At least Amanda didn’t walk away from her at playtime. In fact, she’d given her the invitation the day Harriet had returned to school.

  “I’m glad you’ve come back,” she’d said. “I bet you didn’t want to,” and she hung around with Harriet all day.

  They were nearing the park when a man came down a drive with a dog on a lead.

  “Oh!” exclaimed Harriet. “I know …” The dog wagged his bent tail and Harriet walked over. She scratched him behind his ears. “So this is where you live,” she murmured. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you away.”

  “Are you two acquainted?” asked the man. “Max is making a fuss of you.”

  “I like dogs,” Harriet explained.

  “Why don’t you take his lead,” said the man. “We’re off the park.”

  “So are we,” said Harriet’s mother. “I’m Kath McKibbin,” and they all introduced themselves. So Mr and Mrs Howard belong to Max, thought Harriet.

  Fancy bumping into Harriet, thought Max, as he padded along at her side. He hadn’t seen her since the incident with Brutus several days before. Max picked up the scent of the stray dog they never saw, but didn’t stop. They’d have to do something about it soon.

  Harriet knew dogs were supposed to sit when you told them, so when they reached the park gates she said: “SIT!” Max got such a surprise that he stopped and sat down. “Wow,” gasped Harriet, “it works.” She couldn’t stop grinning.

  Max looked up at her. Why did she want him to sit in this muddy patch?

  “You’re getting the hang of it,” said Mr Howard. “Max is wondering what you want him to do next.”

  “Would he run wi
th me?” asked Harriet.

  “I’m sure he would. Let him off the leash.” He gave her a tennis ball. “He likes chasing this.”

  Hooray, thought Harriet. They ran across the grass towards some trees. There were dogs everywhere.

  “Your friend’s not here,” said Harriet. Max sat down in front of her with his head on one side waiting for her to throw the ball. Harriet rolled it along the ground. Boring, thought Max. He tossed it in the air, then caught it in his mouth.

  “You want me to throw it up,” laughed Harriet.

  Harriet’s throws got better and better. They sat on the grass and Max let her stroke his back.

  “I wish I could see you more often,” said Harriet. “I’m sure you’re still visiting Brutus because he’s not barking nearly so much. You shouldn’t be walking around the street off your lead, though. You must know about the dog control man. You can hear the dogs howling in his van. Where does he take them?”

  Max shuddered. He knew where they went. On a still night you could hear the howling coming from the building by the rubbish tip.

  “Your eyes have gone squinty and you look miserable,” said Harriet. “You must understand what I’m talking about.” She patted him some more. His coat is a mix of ginger and black and cream, she thought. His ears are darker, and silky, and he’s even got eyebrows. I’d like a dog like Max.

  “I do want a dog of my own,” continued Harriet. “I wouldn’t leave him tied up all day. But my parents won’t let me.”

  A piercing whistle cut across the park.

  “That’s for me,” barked Max and he ran off with Harriet after him.

  “You gave Max a good workout,” said Mr Howard.

  “I like Max,” said Harriet. “I wondered if I could visit him sometimes after school.”

  “Hold on, Harriet,” said her mother. “That mightn’t be convenient for Mr Howard.”

  “It’s a great idea – if you’re agreeable,” said Mr Howard. “Poor old Max spends the day tied up while Pat and I are at work. Let him off the rope, throw the ball – he’d love it. Tie him up before you leave, though. He can’t get out of the garden, but you never know – and that darned dog officer is always on the prowl.”