by Holly Webb
Dad nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose a day or two wouldn’t hurt, just so long as your mum agrees,” he said. “But after that she’ll have to go to the shelter.”
Rachel had brought a sketchpad on holiday with her and lots of felt pens, so she and Anya drew posters that afternoon at Anya’s cottage. It was a greyish sort of day, not really the best day for playing out on the beach, anyway. Then they borrowed Anya’s mum’s mobile, just in case of an emergency, and went out to stick up the signs on lampposts and on the railings along the seafront. “After all, she was on the beach,” Rachel pointed out. “So it makes sense that her owners might have lost her there. If they’re still looking for her, this is a good place to put a sign.”
Too good, Anya thought to herself. She almost felt like tearing the posters down again.
“We’ve got to get back,” Rachel said, as they finished putting up the last one. “Mum said she’d come and pick me up from yours at three and it’s five to. Oh, do you want to come on a picnic with us tomorrow afternoon? She said it was OK to ask you and your mum and dad, and Jessie and Molly, too.”
“Yes, please!” Anya nodded eagerly. “But if we’re going on a picnic, then we can’t take Molly to the shelter. Dad did say we could keep her for a day or two, though…”
Rachel sighed. “It’s not fair – I wish you could keep her. She loves you!”
Anya giggled. “Only because I feed her loads and she’s so hungry. I think she looks fatter already and we’ve only had her a day.”
“It isn’t just that. She looks so happy. And gorgeous, now you’ve brushed her and she’s got a new collar and lead.”
Anya had spent most of her holiday money at the vet’s, buying things for Molly. But she didn’t mind. Even if Molly did go to the shelter, she was much more likely to be adopted if she was well groomed and had a smart collar on, wasn’t she? Anya hated the thought of Molly being stuck at the shelter for ages, with nobody to stroke her and fuss over her and love her properly. Like I would, she added silently to herself.
Rachel’s mum was just coming along the seafront path as they got to Anya’s cottage. They waved to her.
“Thanks for inviting us on the picnic,” Anya said. “I’ll just nip in and ask Mum and Dad, shall I? Oh dear…” She made a face. “I can hear Jessie crying – she’s teething.”
Dad came to let her in. “Sorry about the noise,” he said to Rachel’s mum, with a frazzled sort of smile. “Poor Jess. She’s really miserable. Anya’s mum is upstairs catching up on a bit of sleep.”
Rachel’s mum started to explain about the picnic, and Anya and Rachel went over to see Jessie. She was in her car seat – it looked like Dad had been rocking her. Her cheeks were red and she was making sad little hiccupping noises.
“Hello, Jessie,” Anya crooned. “Are your teeth still hurting? Poor baby…” And she rocked the car seat gently.
Rachel and Molly watched, but the rocking didn’t seem to help – Jessie’s crying only got louder.
“It’s OK, Molly,” Rachel whispered, seeing the dog’s ears twitching worriedly. “I don’t think Molly likes the noise.”
Anya looked round, wondering if she should move Molly away from Jessie, but the little dog crept forward and laid her nose very gently on the car seat. She gave a quiet whine and stared at Jessie.
Jessie stared back, looking surprised – at least, Anya thought she did. It was hard to tell with babies sometimes. But she definitely stopped crying. She gazed into Molly’s dark eyes and made a sort of cooing sound.
Dad looked down at Jessie and smiled. “That’s the first time she’s stopped grizzling all afternoon!” he murmured. “Good girl, Molly. She’s been very good around Jessie, actually,” he explained to Rachel’s mum. “I was worried about having a dog with a baby, but maybe if we were very careful…”
Anya and Rachel exchanged a delighted look. Molly was definitely winning Dad over!
“Mum and Dad are still making sandwiches, so they sent us to get you,” Zach explained.
“OK, I’ll go and tell Mum and Dad you’re here. I don’t think they’re quite ready. Can you put Molly’s lead on, Rachel?” Anya handed Rachel the lead, and Molly wriggled and yapped, trying to catch it in her teeth. She loved walks.
Dad came down the stairs and laughed at Molly jumping around. “Poor Moll, you can’t make her wait now, Anya, she might keel over from the excitement. Why don’t the two of you walk over with Zach and Rachel, and we’ll catch you up in a minute?”
Rachel went to hand the lead back to Anya when they got out of the front door, but Anya shook her head. “You can hold her if you want to,” she told Rachel. She knew how much Rachel would love a dog, even though she adored Alfie, their little ginger cat. She’d shown Anya pictures of him. He had the brightest pink nose Anya had ever seen on a cat.
They walked to Rachel and Zach’s house along the seafront path, past lots of other people with dogs and children who stopped to stroke her. Anya watched Molly proudly – she looked so lovely and she was walking nicely for Rachel, too.
Molly trotted along, sniffing happily at all the good smells along the bottom of the railings and enjoying the fuss that the children were making of her. It was so nice to be patted and told she was a good dog.
She glanced up at Anya, to check that she was still there and hadn’t disappeared and then looked ahead to see where they were going. She stopped short with a frightened whimper. She knew that dog. That big, fierce golden dog, who was coming towards them.
He’d spotted her, too, and he growled loudly, pulling hard on his lead. The dog was going to chase her again!
Molly whimpered and darted backwards, nearly tripping Rachel up. Zach and Anya both made a grab for her lead to help, but Molly yanked it out of Rachel’s hand and shot across the road, desperate to get away from the big Labrador.
A car braked suddenly and the driver started to yell at the three children, but they were already darting across the road behind him, racing after Molly.
“I’m really sorry!” Rachel gasped. “I didn’t mean to let go – she pulled so hard!”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Anya panted back. “She was really scared of that Labrador. I don’t know why. She didn’t mind any of the other dogs.”
“We’re really close to our house,” Zach said. “She did go down here, didn’t she? I reckon she’s got to be on the green somewhere.”
Anya nodded. There was a cold feeling in her stomach and she was trying hard not to cry. Just when Dad had started to think about keeping Molly! She’d heard him talking to Mum about it the night before – about how good Molly was and how responsible Anya was being, trying to look after the puppy and find her owners. They wouldn’t think Anya was responsible now that Molly had got lost again!
“We’ll find her,” Zach said. “Don’t worry. Come on.”
They raced across the little green, looking round and calling.
“At least she’s got her lead on,” Anya said, her voice wobbling. “If anyone spots her, they’ll know she’s slipped away. They might even be able to grab the lead.”
“Shall I get Mum and Dad and Lily to come and look, too?” Zach suggested.
“No, I’m sure she went running over the green,” Rachel said. “If we stop and get Mum and Dad she might go somewhere else. We need to find her now!”
Anya nodded. Rachel was right. “Molly!” she called, her voice squeaky with fright. “Molly, come on! Come on, sweetheart!” Then she gave a little gasp. “Oh! The dog treats – I brought a packet with me, to be her part of the picnic. I got them at the vet’s for her.” She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out the foil packet. Then she shook it gently, so that the treats rattled around inside. “Here, Molly! Yummy treats, come on!”
She shook them again, but Molly didn’t come. “I was sure she’d want them…” Anya whispered. “I don’t think she’s here. She must have run down to the next road.”
“No! Look, I can see her!” Rachel grabbed Anya’s arm.
“Isn’t that her, over in that garden? I’m sure I saw something move just then when you shook the treats.”
Anya looked over and saw a pale shape curled up under a fuschia bush. “It is her!” she whispered. “Oh, you star, Rachel. Don’t run!” she added to Zach, who looked as though he was about to dash into the garden. “She’s really scared. She might race off again.”
“OK.” Zach nodded. “You creep up and call her.”
“Molly…” Anya called gently. “Molly, come here, sweetheart.” She gave the bag of treats another shake.
Molly looked up, a little golden face surrounded by the pink and purple flowers. She looked gorgeous – except that she was trembling.
“It’s all right,” Anya called, standing by the wall. “Come on.” She patted her knees gently and Molly crept a touch closer. But she didn’t get up and run to Anya.
Anya glanced at the house and hoped the owners wouldn’t mind if she went into their garden. She walked on to the path and bent down. “Come on, Moll…”
This time, Molly wriggled out from under the bush. She crept over to Anya, her head down, still shaking.
“Poor Molly,” Anya murmured, as she gripped the lead tightly and rubbed Molly’s trembling ears. “That big dog really scared you, didn’t he?”
Suddenly, Molly jerked on her lead again and Anya glanced round. The front door was opening – and a familiar-looking elderly lady glared out at her.
“Oh no,” Anya breathed. It was the same lady she’d woken up a couple of days before. “I’m sorry,” she said out loud. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Molly got scared by another dog and ran away and then she hid under your flowers. We’re just going.” She could see Mum and Dad coming up the road now, with Jessie in her pushchair. She really hoped they weren’t going to be cross.
The old lady frowned. “But wasn’t it you who came to the door a couple of days ago?”
“Yes,” Anya admitted, feeling glad that Rachel and Zach had come over to stand by the wall now.
“Anya thought Molly was ours,” Rachel explained. “But she isn’t. No one knows who she belongs to, but Anya’s looking after her. It was my fault she’s in your garden. I let go of her lead.” She looked over apologetically at Anya’s mum and dad, who had arrived at the house. “I’m sorry, I should have held her tighter.”
“But you’re all OK?” Anya’s dad asked worriedly. “We only saw that you were trying to call Molly out of the garden.”
“We’re fine,” Anya said. “Molly got scared by a big dog. I think she might have met him before, it was like she knew him and he really frightened her.”
“I saw your posters,” the old lady broke in suddenly. “I didn’t realize it was the same dog. I have seen her before, you know, now that I look at her properly.”
“Have you?” Anya gulped, wondering if the old lady knew who Molly’s owners were. She crouched down and put her arms round the little dog. What if she was about to lose Molly again?
“On the beach. Yes, I’m sure it was her. Two or three times over the summer and never with the same people.”
“So she’s definitely a stray?” Anya’s mum said slowly, looking over at her dad.
The old lady nodded. “Poor little thing, I don’t think she can belong to anyone.”
Mum smiled at Anya. “I don’t think that’s true, Anya, do you?”
Anya took a deep breath of relief and smiled shakily back at her mum. Then she buried her nose in Molly’s frizzy ears. Molly nuzzled her damp nose against Anya’s cheek.
Then she looked up at the old lady and shook her head. “She does,” she explained. “Now she belongs to me.”
Anya curled up on the chair in front of Mum’s computer, and carefully typed in Rachel’s email address. Mum had written it down in her diary, so she couldn’t possibly lose it.
To: Rachel
From: Anya
Subject: Molly!
Hi Rachel!
I can’t believe the summer holidays are nearly over! Do you go back to school next week, like we do?
Me and Mum took Molly to the vet’s yesterday and the vet said she was gorgeous. He said Molly was probably a mixture of a poodle and something else, that’s why she’s so curly!
The vet said we have to be very careful with Molly’s thick fur – we’re going to have to take her to get clipped at a special dog hair salon! She’s got a microchip now, so even if she gets lost again, we’ll get her back. And we went to get a tag for her collar with Mum and Dad’s numbers on, too! This is a photo of Molly with her tag on. I feel like she’s really ours now!
Lots of love from me and Molly – and Molly says hi to Alfie.
Anya xxx
Anya pressed send and looked down at Molly, who was curled up under the desk, waiting for her to finish. Molly looked so beautiful now, with her coat clean and brushed. She was definitely less skinny, too.
Molly jumped up, putting her front paws on Anya’s knees, her fluffy golden tail wagging. She then rested her chin on Anya’s lap and stared up at her adoringly.
“It was the best holiday ever,” Anya whispered down to her, stroking Molly’s curly ears. “But it’s so nice to be home, isn’t it – especially now it’s your home, too.”
Other titles by Holly Webb
The Snow Bear
The Reindeer Girl
The Winter Wolf
Animal Stories:
Lost in the Snow
Alfie all Alone
Lost in the Storm
Sam the Stolen Puppy
Max the Missing Puppy
Sky the Unwanted Kitten
Timmy in Trouble
Ginger the Stray Kitten
Harry the Homeless Puppy
Buttons the Runaway Puppy
Alone in the Night
Ellie the Homesick Puppy
Jess the Lonely Puppy
Misty the Abandoned Kitten
Oscar’s Lonely Christmas
Lucy the Poorly Puppy
Smudge the Stolen Kitten
The Rescued Puppy
The Kitten Nobody Wanted
The Lost Puppy
The Frightened Kitten
The Secret Puppy
The Abandoned Puppy
The Missing Kitten
The Puppy who was Left Behind
The Kidnapped Kitten
The Scruffy Puppy
The Brave Kitten
The Forgotten Puppy
The Secret Kitten
My Naughty Little Puppy:
A Home for Rascal
New Tricks for Rascal
Playtime for Rascal
Rascal’s Sleepover Fun
Rascal’s Seaside Adventure
Rascal’s Festive Fun
Rascal the Star
Rascal and the Wedding
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2015
Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2015
Illustrations copyright © Sophy Williams, 2015
Author photograph copyright © Nigel Bird
My Naughty Little Puppy illustration copyright © Kate Pankhurst
eISBN: 9781-84715-637-2
The right of Holly Webb and Sophy Williams to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available
from the British Library.
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.co.uk