“Maybe she will, if you ask her nicely,” Jamie said.
Pan shook her head. “She won’t. She says there’s no one to look after it when we go away on holiday. And she says cats ruin the furniture.”
Jamie knelt down next to Aboo’s cage and stroked the sick dog. “Get better, boy,” she whispered. “You must get better.” He looked at her with sad eyes, and she wanted to cry. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll bring you a treat.”
Fifi was in the surgery, watching Ilona knitting. She had the Magic Whistle around her neck. “Thank you for letting me wear Dr Knight’th whithle for a while,” she said.
“I’m going to finish his jersey tonight,” Ilona said, holding it up to admire it.
Fifi fondled the ugly wool. “Do you think he’ll wear it on TV?”
“Ooh,” said Ilona. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She went pink with pleasure.
“You’ll be famouth.”
Ilona swelled even more.
“It would be thuper if you could make Thnoopy a jerthey from her own hair,” Fifi said, looking at Ilona imploringly. “Pleeeethe. The’th tho thoft and thilky.”
“Making a dog wear a jersey knitted from its own fur is just wrong,” said Pan as Jamie sneaked a bag of treats into her pocket.
“Go away,” said Fifi. “Ilona ith telling me all about Dr Knight.”
“Here,” Ilona said, heaving her big bottom out of her chair and going over to the accessories stand. She chose a dog comb and handed it to Fifi. “You need one of these. Just brush her twice a day, and save the fur in a plastic bag.”
Fifi was staring at Ilona with shining eyes. “Oh, thank you, Lona. I’m gonna dye the wool pink and Thnoopy will have the motht beautiful jerthey ever.”
Jamie was furious when she saw Ilona giving her cousin the comb. “We’re not allowed to take anything from the accessories stand without asking,” she whispered. “Why is she?”
Fifi’s sharp ears didn’t miss a thing. “You thtole thome doggie thnackth,” she called. “I thaw you.”
14
The Magic Whistle disappears
Just then the surgery door opened and Mrs de Witt came out, carrying a cat basket. “I need a bag of Costalot kitten food, please,” she said, putting the basket on the counter.
Ilona went into the store room to fetch it.
“Ah, cute!” cried Pan, when she saw the fluffy grey Persian kitten peeping out of the basket. “What’s his name?”
“He’s called Oscar,” said Mrs de Witt proudly. “He’s such a beautiful boy, aren’t you, Oscar …” and she undid the latch, put her hand inside the basket and stroked his ears.
Suddenly the back door slammed against the wall and Fungi came bouncing in. He had feathers stuck in his fur and he smelt like dead hadedah. He bounded up to the desk and leaped up on Mrs de Witt’s white skirt.
“Down, down!” she shrieked, trying to lock the basket again.
But it was too late. Hissing wildly, Oscar wriggled out of the basket and jumped on the top of the cupboard behind Ilona’s desk. Fungi ignored the kitten. Instead he bounded up to Fifi. She stared at him in terror. Snoopy wriggled out of her arms and landed on the desk, sending Ilona’s papers flying.
Fifi screamed as her dog slid off the desk. “No Thnoopy, Fungi’th going to hurt you …”
But Fungi ignored Snoopy too. Instead, he stood on his hind legs, stuck out his stinky dead bird tongue and licked Fifi’s face. She tried to slap him away with her teeny little hands. “Thith,” she screeched. “I have allergieth.”
Ilona came waddling through from the store room. “Get that baboon of a dog out of my reception area!” she yelled, passing Oscar to Mrs de Witt. By now Fungi was lifting his leg on the stand of dog clothes. Snoopy was next to him, yapping frantically. Fungi grabbed Snoopy by the neck and gave her a little shake.
“No, Fungi!” yelled Jamie.
“Thave him!” shrieked Fifi.
Ilona patted her bosom frantically, feeling for her dog whistle. “Out, out filthy mutt!” she shouted, rolling up a newspaper and whacking Fungi on the bum. She chased him out of the door and slammed it behind him. Her face was purple.
Fifi grabbed Snoopy. “Poor, poor Thnoopy,” she said. “That horrible brute nearly ate you.”
“I’d like to pay, please,” said Mrs de Witt in an icy tone. She glared at the girls.
Jamie decided that now would be a good time to leave, but before she went she needed something. She waited till Mrs de Witt had left.
“Ilona, please could I have an entry form for the competition?”
Ilona let out a hiss like a pressure cooker. “A form for the competition. You want,” she took a deep breath, “a form for the competition! Are you mad? After what just happened? This is a BONA FIDE competition with a celebrity judge. This is not a small-town show where any clot with a mutt can take part. This competition,” she stabbed her finger into Jamie’s chest, “is for dogs like my Justus who KNOWS how to behave. NOT for the likes of that goon of a dog out there!”
She slammed her folder of entry forms shut and put it into her desk drawer. Then she crossed her arms and stared at Jamie with her jaw jutting out. “Now, I have work to do, if you don’t mind.”
Jamie was furious. She wanted to do something really rude, but she pretended to be Mrs Jones. She patted her hair and said, “I shall be the Better Person,” under her breath.
“I’m sure you can get one at school,” Pan said. “Come, Jamie, let’s go.”
Fifi was holding Snoopy and tears were pouring down her cheeks. “That wath horrible. I thought Thnoopy wath going to be eaten alive. And her thparkly collar ith gone.”
“Good riddance,” Jamie muttered.
Fifi pouted. “Don’t be tho mean to me. I’ll tell Auntie Arabella. You have to be kind to me. I might get gangrene again if I get threthed.”
Jamie snorted. “I hope you get gangrene and your nose falls off.”
Fifi let out a wail. “You heard that, Lona? You heard what Jamie thaid to me?”
Ilona was digging around her desk drawer, muttering, “Where is my whistle?” Then she remembered that she’d allowed Fifi to hold it.
“Whistle, whistle!” she bellowed. “Give me back my whistle! You had it yesterday afternoon.”
Fifi went pale. “I don’t know where it ith,” she whispered.
15
Jamie saves a life
The next morning, just as they were leaving for school, Arabella’s phone rang. It was the specialist. Jamie watched her mother’s face drop as he spoke.
“It’s bad news, I’m afraid,” Arabella said when she’d ended the call. She pulled Jamie into a hug. “He agrees with me. It’s a degenerative myelopathy – Aboo’s nerves aren’t functioning. We’re going to have to put him down. It’s no life for a young dog, being paralysed, not being able to move around.”
At school Jamie told Pan all about it. “Poor Mr Kumar,” she said. “He’s all alone in the world. Aboo is like a child to him.”
“That’s really sad,” said Pan. “If Aboo was a person he’d get a wheelchair. It’s so cruel that he has to die just because he’s a dog.”
“Why can’t he have a wheelchair?” Jamie said.
Pan laughed. “Who would push it? Or do you think Mr Kumar should buy him an electric one? Maybe he could buy him a little car so he can drive around!”
Jamie smacked her friend on the shoulder. “That’s what he needs,” she exclaimed. “You’re so clever, Pan.”
The moment the girls got home that afternoon they ran straight to the surgery. Ilona looked up as they burst through the door and sniffed. “Dr Knight was very strict about maintaining an air of professionalism in his practice,” she said pointedly. “There would have been no running in his surgery.”
Jamie was too excited to be bothered by Ilona’s sniping. “Is my mother busy?” she panted.
“She’s in the hospital,” said Ilona with another sniff. “With Mr Kumar.”
“
Quick!” yelled Jamie to Pan as they both rushed through to the back.
Arabella and Mr Kumar were in the hospital, the old man stroking Aboo. The poor dog lay on the table and Arabella was tying the tourniquet around his leg. Next to her the syringe was already filled with fluid. Mr Kumar leaned his head on the dog’s neck and sobbed.
“Stop, Mom, don’t put him to sleep!” Jamie yelled as her mother picked up the syringe.
“Jamie, darling,” Arabella said. “This isn’t appropriate. I know you’re upset, but you’re making it harder for everyone.” She pressed the syringe against the dog’s leg.
Jamie grabbed her arm. “Stop, Mom. Aboo needs a cart.”
Arabella paused. “A cart?”
“Yes, a cart. A wheelchair to help him get around.”
“We could make a little cart to hold his back legs,” Pan finished.
Arabella looked at the dog thoughtfully. A lightness came over her face as she put the syringe back on the counter. “You know what, girls? You are a pair of geniuses! This just might work. There is nothing wrong with Aboo’s front legs. And his bladder and bowel control are excellent. I’m sure Unathi could knock something together. If Mr Kumar agrees, that is?”
“So you’re not putting him to sleep?” Mr Kumar said. Hope shone in his eyes.
“Not yet,” Arabella said. “We’re going to try one last thing.”
16
Itching powder
Meanwhile, Tick and Chanza were busy in the shed. They had locked the door and put out their sign that said,
Do not disterb!
It had taken them three days of searching, but they had collected fifty-three dried rose hips. They had also collected Fifi’s expensive blender, a tea strainer and a bowl from the kitchen, and they’d stolen two pairs of latex gloves and fifty plastic pill bottles from the surgery.
“Okay, Tick my friend, what do we do with these things?” asked Chanza.
“Easy, dude,” said Tick, opening up the tin where he kept his pocket knife. The tin had a label saying danjerus stuff on the side, and inside the boys kept a pocket knife, matches and three stink bombs that they were keeping for emergencies.
Tick pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He pushed the first rose hip into a big blob of sticky putty that he had stuck to the workbench. Then, carefully, he cut the dried leaves off the rose hip. When he’d done them all, he packed them into the blender and turned it on. The blade whizzed around, crushing them into a powder.
“What’s the strainer for?” asked Chanza. He was hopping up and down, thinking of all the boys he could torment at school with itching powder.
“We have to strain it. The tiny hairs will fall through the strainer into the bowl. That’s our itchy powder.”
It took them all afternoon to sieve the powder and pack a teaspoon into each plastic bottle.
“Won’t your mom be cross that you’ve taken her pill bottles from the surgery?” Chanza asked as he held out the last bottle for Tick to fill.
Tick shrugged. “It’s science. We’re doing science,” he said. “It’s like doing homework, just better.”
Chanza looked worried. “Okay, if you say so. But if my dad finds out we took them, he’ll be really cross. He’ll tell her for sure.”
The boys spent the afternoon writing labels that said,
Ichy powder. Makes you ich more than 50 flees.
17
A new plan
A while later the girls were in the garden, trying to train Fungi. It wasn’t going very well. He had already torn a pair of the professor’s spotted red underpants off the line, chased a bird and growled at Snoopy (which had made Felicity cry). To make things worse, once Felicity had stopped howling, she had begun to work through a very complicated routine of tricks with Snoopy. Snoopy could beg, roll over, play dead, shake hands, wave goodbye and rub her eyes with her paws as if she was crying.
When Fifi said, “Handth up!” Snoopy sat on her hind legs and put her front paws in the air. “Bang, bang!” Fifi said, pointing her finger at the little dog. Snoopy fell down and played dead.
As much as she hated to admit it, Jamie thought Snoopy was really good.
Pan was very suspicious. “You’ve got the Magic Whistle, haven’t you, Fifi,” she said. “Ilona is looking for it everywhere, but you’ve got it, and you’re training Snoopy with it.”
“You’re tho mean, Pamela,” cried Fifi. “You’re tho nathty.”
“My name is Pan,” Pan snapped. “Try and get that into your thick head. Or is it too full of snot to remember?”
“Thorry, Pam. I promithe I won’t do it again.”
“Why does she keep following us?” Pan muttered as Jamie tugged Fungi out of the vegetable patch where he was digging another hole. At the bottom of the hole she could see a pair of striped blue boxer shorts. “I wish she’d go away and leave us alone.”
“Come, Fungi,” called Jamie. “Come to the bottom of the garden where you can’t destroy the vegetable patch.”
She dragged him down to the patch of lawn outside Tick’s shed.
“Don’t you thometimeth withh you had a doggie like Thnoopy, Pamela?” said Fifi, following the older girls like a bad smell. “My mommy thaid your mommy and daddy work very hard and that you’re a thad, lonely little girl. That’th why you’re grumpy thometimeth.”
Jamie knew that any moment smoke would come out of Pan’s ears. She had to do something. She pointed at the wall of the shed. “OOOh Pan, come here quickly, I think this might be a snake, come look!”
Felicity shrieked, scooped up Snoopy and raced inside. She stood in the kitchen, peering fearfully through the window at the garden.
Pandora sauntered over to Jamie. “You’re not serious? You hate snakes – you would be screaming,” she said calmly.
“Yea, I’m not serious, I just needed to talk to you away from Fleaflea. Snoopy is REALLY good. If she enters that dog competition I am NEVER going to win.”
Pandora nodded gloomily. “You’re right. Fungi is never going to learn anything. He just can’t concentrate.”
“What are we going to do?” Jamie asked as Fungi went rushing across the lawn, dragging the garden hose.
“We have to get rid of Fleaflea. We have to get her to beg to go home. We just have to figure out how.” Suddenly Pan’s attention was drawn by a noise in the shed. She looked through the window. “What are Tick and Chanza doing in there?”
Jamie shook her head. “Dunno, some stupid experiment probably.”
At that moment Tick looked up and saw Pandora’s nose pressed against the window.
“Go away, you stupid skunk butt!” screamed Tick. He raced to the door, unlocked it and ripped it open. “Go away! Can’t you see this is a private shed?”
“Stop screaming like a girl,” said Pan. “I just wanted to know what you were doing with all those little plastic bottles?”
Then she got it. “Ha, those are your mom’s, aren’t they? You stole them from the surgery.”
Tick looked panicky.
Jamie had also slipped in, and she smiled. “You’ve been taking Mom’s stuff, haven’t you, you little rat? If you don’t want me to tell Mom, you better tell me what you are up to.”
Chanza and Tick looked defeated. “Fine, yes, they’re Mom’s,” said Tick. “We’re filling them with itchy powder.”
“Give us one then,” said Pan, snapping her fingers. “Quick, quick.”
“Ahh, no way,” whined Chanza. “We’re going to sell those for R20 each.”
“Not if my mom catches you,” said Jamie smugly. “Give us one and I won’t tell her.”
“Fine,” snapped Tick. He shoved a container into Jamie’s hand, chased the girls out and slammed shut the door.
Jamie high-fived Pandora. “Ta-da! This is how we are going to get rid of Fleaflea. If we put some of this in her bed, she will think she’s got a horrible disease and want to go home.”
Pandora hugged her. “It’s brilliant!”
“What are you
girls doing out there?” called Ilona through the back window of the surgery. “Why are you making so much noise? You’re disturbing the clients. And that delinquent dog is eating the washing.”
“I would LOVE to get her back,” said Jamie as Ilona slammed shut the window. “She’s always such a cow. I don’t mind what she says about me, but I resent the things she says about my dog.”
Pandora grinned. “Hey, Jamie, what about that itching powder?”
“What about it?” said Jamie.
“What if you were to put some in that stupid jersey she’s knitting for Dr Knight? How awesome would it be if he put it on, started itching, and accused her of giving him fleas?”
Jamie stared at Pan in wonder. “You are such a genius! Half for her and half for Fleaflea. I’ll do it later this afternoon when Ilona’s really busy.”
Fleaflea appeared at the kitchen door. “Tho ith there a thnake, or ithn’t there?” she asked crossly.
“There isn’t,” said Pandora. “It was a worm – but it’s gone now.”
Fleaflea pouted. “You guyth could’ve called me, you know. I’m thtarting to feel like you guyth are leaving me out.”
“Hey, Fifi,” said Pandora, “I’ve got a super awesome secret to tell you, but you can’t breathe a word if I tell you. Promise?”
Pan tried not to gag as Fifi leaned right into her face. Her breath smelled awful. “Your thecret ith thafe with me. I won’t withper it to a thoul.”
“Toby told me that he thinks you are clever and funny and all-round fabulous. He LOVES it when you hang out with him.”
Fifi’s eyes widened. “Are you theriouth? He alwayth tellth me to thove off.”
Pandora waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, that’s just a boy thing. Trying to be all macho. He really likes you.” Pan raised a finger in warning. “But don’t say I told you, okay?”
Fifi nodded. For once she wasn’t all droopy. She even looked excited. “If you guyth don’t mind, I’m going inthide for a bit.”
Jamie and the Magic Whistle Page 3