by Megan Rix
‘How often do you feed them?’ Joe’s mum asked as she stroked Patch on her lap.
‘Four times a day usually,’ Mrs Hodges told her. ‘I’ll gradually increase the amount of dry puppy food and decrease the milk and blend it less until they’re just eating the puppy food by the time they leave me to go to their new homes.’
Joe and his mum exchanged a look. They both wanted Patch’s new home to be their home.
Mum put Patch back with his brothers and sisters as Joe carefully placed the full food tray in the middle of the pen. All the puppies waddled or ran over to it. They made noisy slurping sounds as they gulped the food down.
‘That’s good,’ Mrs Hodges remarked from the sink where she was dampening some flannels. ‘They’re getting the idea that the tray is for eating from rather than paddling in.’
Once the six puppies had had enough food, Marnie finished off what was left and licked the tray clean.
Joe picked up Patch again and held him in his arms, wiping his furry face with one of the damp flannels as the puppy’s little tail wagged. Joe’s mum wiped the face and paws of a friendly, cuddly, sleepy larger pup with a pink dot on his head, and Mrs Hodges cleaned Little Blue.
‘You, young lady, got more food in your fur than in your stomach,’ she told her.
Joe grinned. Mrs Hodges, for all her complaining about Little Blue, definitely had a soft spot for her.
‘Put Patch on the newspaper now,’ Mrs Hodges warned Joe. ‘Puppies need to go almost as soon as they’ve eaten. Food goes right through them at this age.’
They’d only just finished cleaning the puppies when the doorbell rang again and Mrs Hodges, followed by Marnie, went to see who it was while Joe and his mum kept an eye on Marnie’s brood.
‘When I told them we were getting a puppy they just couldn’t wait …’ The speaker was a woman accompanied by two little girls of about four and five years old. They all followed Mrs Hodges into the kitchen.
‘I don’t blame them; getting a puppy is very exciting,’ Mrs Hodges replied. ‘They’re over here.’
The little girls immediately spotted Patch with his distinctive black ear.
‘Oh, look at him!’
‘He’s so sweet.’
‘Can we get this one, Mum, please …?’
Joe’s heart sank. What if Mrs Hodges sold Patch to a family instead of letting Helper Dogs have him?
Mrs Hodges turned from the counter where she’d been pouring glasses of squash for the girls.
‘Which one is that?’ she asked them.
‘The one with the black ear.’
Mrs Hodges looked over at Joe. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘That one’s already been picked. But you can hold him if you like.’
The girls both wanted to hold Patch and took it in turns to pet him. The puppy loved to be cuddled, but after a little while he wanted to go back with his brothers and sisters and he started to squirm and make mewling sounds.
They put wriggling Patch back in the pen and he ran over to Little Blue, and they were soon playing chase and gently biting each other’s ears.
‘Why’s one of his ears black?’ the older girl asked.
‘He was just born like that. It’s called a genetic mismark and happens sometimes in pure-breds. It means that Patch, as I call him, won’t win any dog shows, but I’ve got other, bigger, plans for him.’
‘What plans?’ the girls wanted to know.
‘Well Patch is very smart and he has a sweet nature too, as you’ve found out.’
The girls nodded.
‘So I’m hoping he’ll become a Helper Dog one day, as long as he passes the test. And Joe and his mum are going to help train him.’
‘What’s a Helper Dog?’ the girls asked.
‘A dog that does helpful things for disabled people,’ Joe’s mum explained.
‘For now he’ll just be a Helper Pup,’ Joe said. ‘But one day …’
He was sure Patch would pass the initial test in a few weeks’ time and then he could start his proper training.
The girls played with the puppies for half an hour and finally chose the one with the pink dot on his head as he was very cuddly.
‘He fell asleep in my arms!’
‘We’re going to call him Jasper,’ they agreed as they left.
‘See you in three weeks’ time,’ Mrs Hodges said as she and Marnie waved them goodbye.
By the time the girls and their mum had left, Patch and the other puppies were very tired and they crawled over each other to get the sleeping spot they wanted.
‘Time we were going too,’ Joe’s mum decided. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘Come back whenever you like,’ Mrs Hodges told Joe. ‘I can see you’re a natural when it comes to puppies.’
‘I will,’ Joe said. But he also needed to go to Lenny’s classes so he could learn the correct way to look after a Helper Dog puppy. If Patch passed his initial test at forty-nine days old, he’d be coming to live with them after that. Only yesterday it had seemed like each day took ages to be over, but now Joe didn’t know how he was going to fit in everything that needed to be done. It was going to be a very busy few weeks!
Chapter 5
The following Tuesday, Lenny asked Joe to help out with one of the regular dog classes at the centre.
‘I don’t just train Helper Dogs – we run a variety of classes for all sorts of dogs,’ he said, handing Joe a spreadsheet. ‘This is the timetable for all our classes until the end of the summer. I thought it would be a good idea for you to come along to a few to prepare for looking after Patch.’ He pointed out the Puppy Pre-school class at 9.30 a.m. on Mondays. ‘Once Patch has passed his initial test, he will come along to that one,’ Lenny told Joe. ‘It’s for puppies under eighteen weeks of age. And once he’s had six weeks of that, he’ll graduate to Puppy School.’
The Puppy School class took place at 10.30 a.m., straight after Puppy Pre-school, and at 11.30 there was Obedience for dogs of all ages. Tuesdays were for Puppy Tumble-tots and Agility. Wednesday and Saturday mornings were taken up with Helper Dog training.
‘Helper Dogs-in-training can come along to any of the other classes as well,’ Lenny added.
Thursdays were for Advanced Obedience and Kennel Club Bronze, Silver and Gold training classes and exams.
‘Fridays are reserved for individual sessions with dogs that need extra help, as well as Friday Flyball in the evenings,’ Lenny explained.
‘What’s Flyball?’ Joe asked.
Lenny grinned. ‘It’s like dog relay racing,’ he said. ‘They’re in teams and take it in turns to race after a tennis ball that comes flying out of this.’ He patted a box with a press-pad on it. ‘The dog presses the pad, grabs the ball in his mouth and races back to his handler, usually over hurdles, and then it’s the next dog’s turn.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
‘Oh, it is and it gets very noisy here on Fridays with everyone shouting encouragement at their dogs and the dogs almost bursting for it to be their turn next.’
‘Can all dogs do it?’
‘Sure. Some breeds will be faster than others in competitions, but that doesn’t matter here. What we want is for the dog and its owners to have fun – and they do.’
‘Do Helper Dogs join in that class?’ Joe asked.
‘Not often,’ Lenny said. ‘They’re too busy learning how to be Helper Dogs. Patch’ll be too young to join in until he’s a year old and he’ll hopefully be living with Sam by then. Helper Dogs have approved his request.’
‘What about once school starts,’ asked Joe, thinking about the Helper Dogs classes. ‘Maybe I could miss a bit …?’
‘Not to worry – our timetable changes to early evenings once term-time starts so you’ll be able to bring Patch along after school, and to the Saturday morning classes, of course. But nice try,’ Lenny winked.
Just before 9.30, eight puppies arrived at the training centre with their owners for the Puppy Tumble-tots session. Joe couldn’t help
noticing that some of the owners looked a lot like their dogs: one lady with a red setter puppy had hair that exactly matched the colour of the dog’s fur. Another lady with a cross-looking expression on her face had a pug puppy that looked a bit grumpy and snapped irritably when another pup got in its way. Some of the owners smiled at Joe or rolled their eyes as their excited puppies dragged them inside, but others looked worried.
‘Slow down, Noah,’ a tall thin man kept telling his gangly Irish wolfhound pup as he pulled him back on his lead. ‘You’ll have me over again.’ But Noah was too eager to join his friends to go anywhere slowly.
‘The pups love this class,’ Lenny grinned as Joe helped him stretch out a long fabric tunnel. ‘And it helps them with their flexibility and coordination as well as concentration. I don’t do any jumps or plank-walking with young pups, though, because their joints are fragile and still developing.’
Once the Tumble-tots course was laid out, it was time for the puppies and their handlers to try it.
Joe watched as the pug pup yipped its way excitedly round the course and its cross-looking owner ran alongside, issuing instructions.
‘This way … Over there … No – through it … through it!… That’s it … good dog!’
‘Well done,’ Lenny said, and the cross-looking lady finally smiled and her puppy stood up on its back legs and wagged its tail as she gave it a treat.
When it was Noah’s turn, his owner asked if Lenny could take him round instead as he’d hurt his ankle the day before.
‘Why don’t you give it a go, Joe?’ Lenny suggested.
Joe pointed to himself. ‘Me?’ he mouthed and Lenny nodded.
Joe took a deep breath.
‘Here, these might help if he gets stuck in the tunnel,’ Noah’s owner said encouragingly, handing Joe a bag of dog treats along with Noah’s lead.
‘Keep Noah on the lead for now,’ Lenny advised. ‘If he does it well, you can try him off the lead next time.’
Joe nodded as he tried to remember which obstacle the pug puppy had started with.
Noah looked up at him, wagged his tail and then pulled Joe over to the twelve orange and blue slalom poles. Joe grinned as he was tugged along. Noah must have been watching the pug because he remembered where the course had started.
‘You’re a smart dog,’ Joe told him, giving the wolfhound a pat. Then they were off.
Noah squeezed in between the right and then the left narrowly divided poles like slalom skiers did. It had been a lot easier for the smaller pug to get through, but Noah just about managed.
Next he picked his way over the fences that weren’t actually jumps because the poles were laid on the ground.
‘That’s it, Noah!’ Joe praised the pup, firmly holding on to the lead.
It was only when they reached the nylon tunnel that Noah faltered. He took one look at it and sat down.
‘Come on, Noah – in there,’ Joe said, putting down the lead and pointing at where he wanted him to go.
Noah tilted his head to one side as if he were listening to exactly what Joe was saying, but he still didn’t move.
Joe ran to the other end of the tunnel and called to Noah through it. ‘Come, Noah, come!’
Noah stood up and peered at Joe through the tunnel. He whined and took one step towards him. His paw was actually on the fabric, but then he took it off again. Nope, he wasn’t going in there.
Joe ran back to Noah, showed him the treat bag and took out a few. Noah definitely wanted one of those.
Joe threw a handful into the tunnel and then raced round to the other end and lifted it so Noah could see all the way through to him.
Noah was already part-way into the tunnel, gobbling up his treats.
‘Noah, come!’
And Noah did. Once the treats were finished, he crawled on his belly through the tunnel to Joe, who shook the treat bag as extra encouragement. The puppy emerged from the tunnel, tail wagging, and Joe gave him another treat and a hug.
‘Nicely done, Noah and Joe,’ Lenny said, as Noah delicately stepped in and out of three hoops laid in a row on the ground, before joining the rest of the pups.
‘Patch’ll love this,’ Joe said to Lenny when Noah was back with his owner. He couldn’t wait for Patch to be old enough to join in.
Chapter 6
As the next few weeks went by, Joe crossed off the days until Patch’s initial Helper Dog test on his calendar one by one. And every day, on his way home from the training classes, Joe stopped at Mrs Hodges’s house to see Patch, who always raced over to greet him with his little tail wagging.
Joe now played with Patch and the other puppies outside, mostly, as the weather was sunny. Patch and his sister liked to play with a yellow, blue and red rope toy, bracing their puppy legs for support as they tugged, and shaking it vigorously when they got it. Then the game turned into chase as the puppy who’d lost hold of the toy tried to get it back.
They didn’t always play with the rope toy. They played with anything they found. One day Mrs Hodges put an empty plastic bottle in the pen and all the puppies raced around holding it. When they’d had enough of toys, there was always puppy-wrestling and chasing their own and each other’s tails to be done before they fell asleep, often in mid-play.
Joe loved playing with them and watching them. Marnie usually sat beside him and watched her lively puppies too.
On the morning of the test Joe woke up really early.
Patch woke up really early too, although he didn’t know that today was the most important day of his seven-week-old life so far. He had eaten his breakfast and was playing with Little Blue when he heard the doorbell ring. He tilted his head to one side with his little black ear down.
‘Hello,’ Mrs Hodges said as she opened the door, closely followed by Marnie as usual. ‘They’ve just had their breakfast and Patch is all ready for you.’
Patch sniffed the familiar smell. It was the smell of a friend, and a moment later there Joe was.
Joe crouched down beside the puppy enclosure and all the little dogs rushed over to him, but Patch was the first one to reach him.
‘Hello, Patch,’ he said as he lifted the puppy out of the pen and stroked him.
‘Can I help with the test?’ he asked Lenny, who had followed him in.
‘Yes – I’ll need some help,’ Lenny answered. ‘But make sure you don’t talk to Patch while the test is happening in case it confuses him.’
‘OK.’
Patch had to be somewhere he wasn’t familiar with for the test, so Joe carried the puppy into the lounge and set him down on the carpeted floor.
Patch’s paws hadn’t felt carpet before because the kitchen was tiled and the garden was made up of paving stones and grass. He trotted back and forth on it, then sat down on it, and then lay on it and rolled over on to his back to see what that felt like.
Once Patch had had time to get used to the springiness of the carpet and to wander around the lounge for a little while, Lenny rolled a soft ball for him to follow.
‘Fetch … fetch!’ Lenny said as Patch went running after the ball, his little tail wagging. ‘Bring it here now; that’s it, bring it.’
Patch picked up the ball in his mouth and started to bring it to Lenny, but dropped it part way and decided to sniff at the armchair leg instead.
Joe very nearly reminded Patch about the ball, but remembered just in time that he wasn’t supposed to talk to him.
‘Patch!’ Lenny called to the puppy. ‘Patch, get it.’ He pointed at the ball.
Patch looked at Lenny and then he looked at the ball – and then he ran over and pounced as if it were a mouse.
‘Bring it here, bring it,’ Lenny said, tapping his legs and talking in an excited voice. Patch managed to carry the ball almost the whole way before dropping it this time.
Joe only just stopped himself from cheering out loud.
Next Lenny played with a soft rabbit toy with Patch, and then said ‘Give,’ and gently took the toy from the p
uppy’s mouth.
Patch let go of the toy and Lenny told Patch what a good dog he was.
‘That’s just what I wanted you to do,’ he said.
They carried on playing and every now and again Lenny said, ‘Give,’ until Patch released the toy without Lenny needing to tug it.
Joe was really proud of the puppy. He was doing so well.
Then, as if he knew what Joe was thinking, Patch suddenly ran over to Joe and pushed his head into him for a stroke in a way that reminded Joe of Marnie.
‘So how did Patch do?’ Joe asked when the test was over.
‘He did just fine,’ Lenny told him.
‘So does that mean … will Patch be … will he really … can he?’
‘Yes, he’ll be coming to stay with you,’ Lenny told Joe as they gave each other a high five.
Mrs Hodges looked just as happy about Patch’s success as Joe felt. Joe could hardly believe it. He picked Patch up and hugged him until Patch started wriggling. He wanted to play with the ball Lenny had rolled.
‘I’m getting a puppy,’ Joe said, half to himself, as he watched Patch.
Lenny looked over at Joe and frowned. ‘Just remember he won’t be with you forever. He’ll be going to Sam in a few months – probably around Christmastime.’
But Joe wasn’t really listening. Christmas was a long way off and he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. It would be the first Christmas he’d ever had without his dad being there too. But at least now he would have Patch.
My own dog at last, he thought. Although Patch wasn’t just any dog. Patch was one totally amazing puppy.
‘You’ll need to make sure your house is puppy safe and friendly before he comes to you at the weekend,’ Lenny warned. ‘No stray wires or cables that a puppy can chew on; no gaps in the garden fence that an inquisitive pup could squeeze through.’
‘OK,’ Joe said.
‘And you’ll need to make a bark area about a metre square in your back garden – not too far from the house,’ Lenny added.