by John Tovey
This is the life! Call this work? I giggled. I loved my job so much.
Dad wanted to raise more money for Guide Dogs, so he decided to do a ten-mile sponsored swim.
You’re joking me! I sniggered, trying my best not to laugh. I loved Dad, but he was hardly an athlete. But true to his word, he went to the local leisure centre to train for the big swim.
Can I come? Can I come? I barked, dancing around his feet as he grabbed a towel and put it in a bag.
‘You can, but dogs aren’t allowed in the water, so you’ll have to wait in reception for me.’
Spoilsport!
But there were benefits. For starters, I got to sit behind the front desk with the lady who sold the tickets, which made me feel very important. I also got loads of free hugs. But as soon as I heard Dad come out through the changing-room door, I jumped up and scrambled over the top of the counter.
I’ve missed you so much, Dad. I’ve missed yoooouuu! I whined.
‘Aw, you daft thing!’ he laughed, putting the harness over my head.
As we walked home I gazed up at him adoringly.
‘Blimey, that swimming was hard work, Dezzy boy!’ he remarked.
Ha! Told you you’re not an athlete! I sniggered.
Dad trained hard until soon he’d managed to swim all ten miles. The people in the community shop and others online donated money. Soon, he’d not only reached his target, he’d doubled it – raising well over £1,000 for Guide Dogs. I was so proud of him!
A few days later, we visited an infant school. I was mobbed as usual, but then something extraordinary happened.
‘Bye-bye, Doggy,’ a little girl aged five years old called out. She stretched out her hand to touch my fur, so I nuzzled in against her.
‘Do you want to meet Dez?’ Dad asked.
The little girl didn’t reply but her teacher did.
‘I can’t believe it,’ she gasped. ‘This is the first time we’ve ever heard her speak! It’s your dog,’ she said, looking down at me, ‘she’s besotted by him.’
I lifted my head because in that moment I felt proud. Proud, because I’d not only helped Dad get his life back, but the little girl too. I was proud because we’d helped raise lots of money to pay for more dogs like me. Between us, and the other fundraisers up and down the country, both human and canine, we’d helped raise thousands of pounds for Guide Dogs so that it could carry on its vital work. It made me feel good that Dad and I had made a difference, no matter how small that’d been. But most of all, I felt proud to be a guide dog, because for a dog, it’s the most important job in the whole wide world!
CHAPTER 19
BISCUITS, CAKE AND BELLYACHE
Although I’d played my part and had helped with lots of fundraising, I still had a sweet tooth and I craved sweets almost every day. Sometimes I’d fall asleep and dream about them. I’d have brilliant dreams where strawberries the size of houses would chase people down the street. I’d step forward, like a superdog, and save them all by gobbling the giant fruit down in one go. I loved anything strawberry but guide dogs have to follow a strict diet. Although the people at Guide Dogs thought I did stick to one myself, I’d started to get a little fat because I’d snuffle treats whenever Dad was busy.
Soon it was Christmas, our first together, and I couldn’t wait to give Dad his present – a new toy for him to throw for me!
‘You’ve been a good boy, Dez,’ he insisted. ‘Santa will bring you lots of goodies.’
Eeekkk! I squealed. I could hardly wait. That night, as he tucked me up in bed, I couldn’t sleep because I wanted it to be Christmas Day.
‘Get some rest, Dez,’ said Dad, patting me on the head, ‘because Father Christmas won’t come if you stay awake.’
So I screwed my Labrador eyes up tight, because I wanted to sleep. I didn’t want to let any of the surprise sneak beneath my eyelids. The following morning, I woke with a start.
Christmas! It’s Christmas! I cried, thumping Dad’s bedroom door open with a loud bang.
‘Blimey, Dez! I wondered what it was!’ he chuckled, pulling on his dressing gown. ‘Has Santa been?’
Santa’s been, Santa’s been, Santa’s been… I whimpered, nudging him to hurry up, so I could open up my presents.
‘Okay, okay, I’m coming!’ he said, holding out his hands.
Dad had bought me loads of presents, including a big, juicy bone, which tasted delicious. I’d wished for a strawberry one, but he explained they weren’t very good for me. When I’d finally ripped all the wrapping paper to shreds, he got to his feet.
‘Come on, Dez,’ he said, grabbing the harness, ‘let’s go for a walk.’
Yipeee! I shouted. This WAS the best day of my life!
He took me to the park, which was pretty much deserted apart from a few children on new bikes and scooters, and people trying to walk off the heavy Christmas food they had been gobbling down. Dad undid my lead and off I ran, like a maniac, around the park. As I ran, I noticed that Dad had sat down on a park bench. With him safe, I decided to go and explore. I was just wandering along the path when I spotted something red poking out through the long grass. I sniffed the air.
Strawberries! My mouth drooled.
Checking over my shoulder, I sneaked closer and stuck out a paw to part the grass and uncover the treasure. I gasped – it was a pack of Jammie Dodgers!
Bingo! I grinned. Biscuits and strawberry jam, I’d just hit the jackpot!
What Dad doesn’t know, won’t hurt him, I thought, as I proceeded to munch my way through the whole packet. Afterwards, I felt a little sick and my belly was stuffed. But it was Christmas day, and I had been a good boy.
‘Where have you been?’ Dad asked suspiciously when I returned.
Nowhere, I lied, dipping my head.
We walked back home. It was only a short walk, but by the end of it, I felt decidedly green about the gills. Then I burped loudly.
BURP!
Dad, I whimpered, I feel a bit sick…
He had guessed something was wrong because I whined as sickness gripped me.
‘Dez, are you alright?’
No, poorly. Need a doctor…
He picked up the phone and rang the vet. I could tell he was worried, which worried me even more.
‘I’m so sorry, Dad,’ I wailed, over and over.
But it was Christmas Day, so someone had to come out and take me away. I was so upset that I cried all the way there because my poor dad was all alone now. The whole night I cried because I realised just how stupid I’d been. This time my belly was in real trouble and to make matters worse, it was all my fault!
I’m sorry! I promise I’ll never eat a whole packet of Jammie Dodgers again.
The following day, after a good night’s sleep and some special medicine, I began to feel better, so the veterinary nurse took me home.
‘Dez!’ Dad called, bending down to give me a hug.
Oooh, not too hard! I moaned. I’ve still got bellyache…
I sounded just like Vinnie, but I couldn’t help it – I felt as sick as a dog! In the end, Dad sat up with me for three days solid, trying to nurse me back to health. He even dug out my special blankie and Mr Roo Roo to cheer me up.
Don’t tell anyone, you know, about the teddy, I begged.
I’d actually started to feel better the next day, although I didn’t tell Dad because I loved all the attention. Eventually, though, he sussed me out.
‘Er, I think you’re okay,’ he decided, as I leapt off him a little too quickly, one dinner time. ‘So I reckon we need to get back to work.’
Okay, I agreed, and I promise I’ll never, ever touch cake or biscuits again.
But my promise didn’t last long, because I let my stomach rule my head one more time.
A few weeks later, Dad was asked to give a speech to around 200 people at a posh event to raise money for Guide Dogs. Of course, it was mostly about me so I got to go along too.
‘Guide Dogs are remarkable,’ he told t
he audience. ‘Take Dez, here,’ he said, pointing down at me. I lifted my head to acknowledge my fans. ‘He’s so intelligent and so wellbehaved.’
Oh, honestly, it’s nothing! I blushed, as Dad proceeded to tell everyone how fantastic I was. By the time he’d finished, the audience were on their feet, clapping. I’m not sure if the fame went to my head, but as we left the stage I noticed something: a huge, chocolate cake filled with strawberries.
Hmmmm, I drooled, my tongue licking my lips in anticipation. I was supposed to be watching Dad, but now I couldn’t take my eyes off that cake.
It looks sooooo good… I sighed dreamily, as my belly rumbled.
Just then a lady stepped forward to help Dad down the steps.
‘No, I’m fine, honestly,’ he insisted, but she grabbed his arm.
With the harness free, I ran at full pelt across the room towards the table and the cake.
Strawberries! I howled.
The cake got bigger and bigger as I bounded towards it.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes watched as I leapt up onto the table and snatched the biggest slice I could sink my doggy teeth into.
‘DEZ!’ Dad shouted, trying to pull the chocolate cake from my mouth. The woman had snitched on me, telling him what I’d done, as the whole room roared with laughter. The well-behaved guide dog – the star of the show – had only gone and nicked the biggest slice of chocolate cake in the room!
Although Dad had dashed over and tried to seize the cake from my mouth, I’d already gobbled it up.
‘NOM, NOM, NOM…’
I noticed Dad had blushed bright red.
‘Talk about showing me up, in front of everyone, too!’
Sorry, Dad, I whimpered.
But I wasn’t, not really, because the cake – or rather the strawberries – had tasted delicious!
CHAPTER 20
GUIDE DOG OF THE YEAR
‘So, I heard about the cake,’ said Stan (he’d called me up on my mobile for a chat).
‘Don’t!’ I cringed. ‘I’m still in the doghouse for that!’
‘Oh Dez, when will you ever learn? Dogs and sweet things just don’t mix!’
‘I know,’ I whined. ‘But the thing is, I’ve got a really sweet tooth – I can’t help it.’
Stan sighed. ‘I know, son. You’re such a brilliant guide dog, one of the best, but the thing is, you need to learn how to act like one, and whatever you do, stop stealing sweet things!’
I knew he was right: if I wanted to do well, then I had to change my ways. So I decided to try my very best. Whenever I saw a sticky boiled sweet stuck to the pavement, even though I wanted to wolf it down, I told myself ‘no’. When the ice-cream van drove past our flat, I clamped both paws against my ears and hummed to drown out the noise.
I can beat this, I vowed.
Soon, I was trying so hard that everyone had noticed.
‘You’re a bit of a good boy all of a sudden,’ Jangle said, grinning, as Monica and Dad walked us in the park.
‘I know, I’m trying really hard to be good.’
‘Is it because of the competition?’
‘What competition?’
Jangle explained that every year, Guide Dogs held a competition to find the very best guide dogs in the country.
‘I thought that’s what you were trying to do, win something.’
But I shook my head. ‘I didn’t know anything about it. Why, does Dad know?’
Jangle shrugged. ‘Nope, I don’t think so, but my mum does.’
Afterwards I thought about the competition all the time because I knew just how proud Mum and Niki would be. I tried to imagine the look on Emma’s face if I won an award. I wanted to win one, but not for myself: I wanted to win one for Emma and Dad. If it hadn’t been for Emma, I’d probably still be stuck at Guide Dog School, waiting to be chosen, and if it wasn’t for Dad… well, I shuddered as an icy-cold blast shot down my spine because I couldn’t imagine life without Dad – he meant the whole world to me. After my conversation with Jangle, I did everything I could to get nominated for an award. Every walk we went on, I followed all the guide dog rules. A few months later, Monica knocked at the door: she had some news.
‘John, you and Dez have been nominated for a Life Changing Award at the Guide Dog of the Year Awards ceremony in London,’ Monica told us.
‘What? No way!’ Dad gasped.
I grinned because I was thrilled. Finally, they’d noticed all the hard work I’d been putting in.
‘Are you sure?’ Dad asked.
‘Well, I should be because I’m the one who’s nominated you,’ Monica confessed.
My jaw dropped open as I looked at Jangle. ‘Did you have anything to do with this?’
Jangle’s head dipped down. ‘I might have had a quick word with Mum. But Dez, you and John have done this yourselves – you’re brilliant together. Anyone who knows or meets you can tell that.’
‘Is it that obvious? I thought I was the only one who’d noticed.’
Jangle shook her head. ‘No, not at all! In fact, Mum and Emma said you and John are a match made in Heaven.’
‘Did they?’ I whimpered.
I so wanted Emma and Monica to be proud of me.
Only Monica wasn’t finished. ‘But John, I nominated you and I’m pleased to say you’ve won!’
Now it was Dad’s turn to stand there with his mouth open.
‘I can’t believe it!’ he gasped.
Monica explained that now we needed to get ready because we had to travel to a big, swanky awards ceremony in London.
‘What on earth will I wear, Dez?’ Dad asked later, as he sorted through the bottom of his wardrobe.
Hey, I wouldn’t worry about that, I woofed, staring at my reflection. I held out my paw and smoothed down my fringe… because I’m going to be star of the show!
On the evening itself, I felt really nervous as we were called up onto the stage to accept our award from a man off the TV. I was so nervous that somehow I tripped up, which made Dad falter for a second. To make matters worse, I felt his hand tremble as he clutched the harness and instantly I knew that he was as scared as I was. Soon we were standing there in front of a huge crowd, with everyone looking at us. When I thought about this, I took a deep gulp. I had thought it would be great up on stage, but now we were there I felt really, really scared. In fact, I couldn’t wait to get off! Once we’d been given our award we turned to leave, but were stopped by one of the organisers, who told us to stay exactly where we were.
‘Each winner from each of the different categories is automatically nominated for the main award of the evening,’ she explained to Dad.
‘Er, and what’s that?’ he asked.
I budged in closer to hear.
‘It’s for Guide Dog of the Year.’
Dad’s hand trembled as I gulped with nerves.
Nobody had said anything about a second award! I panicked as my legs began to shake.
Dad and I trembled like a pair of jellies on a plate as we waited for the winner to be announced. I looked around at the other dogs standing there and recognised a few from my training days. They were all brilliant guide dogs, and so much better than I was. It made me feel even worse and I wondered what on earth I was doing standing up on stage. My mind whirred and soon I felt quite dizzy with it all. It was hot underneath the spotlights and the posh new collar around my neck felt a little tight. We hadn’t won, so I felt a bit of a twit standing there… Suddenly the TV man began to speak.
‘And the winner is…’ he said, pausing for dramatic effect.
As I looked over towards the exit, I wanted to get off the stage because my legs were aching from all that standing and I was worried Dad was tired too.
‘…and the winner is Dez!’
Eh? Hang on, I mumbled.
I looked around but everyone was on their feet, looking at us as the room erupted with thunderous applause.
For a minute there, I thought he said my name… Dez!
‘Well done, Dezzy boy!’ said Dad, his voice croaking with emotion. He dipped down a hand and gently patted me on my back.
What? You mean, I won? I really did?
I looked out at the crowd to try and find Monica and Jangle. It didn’t take long because they were standing there, crying with joy.
Whoo hoo! Go for it, Dez! Jangle cried, as she punched the air with her front paw.
‘That’s my boy!’ Monica wept proudly.
I was so stunned that I couldn’t take it in, but then Dad was handed a microphone and started to speak. He thanked everyone, especially Emma.
‘Without Emma, we wouldn’t be here today,’ Dad explained.
I nodded because it was true. Without Emma, or all the brilliant people at Guide Dogs, none of this would have happened. Afterwards, we were swamped by reporters and photographers, all wanting to speak to us and take our photos. Just then, the man off the TV stepped forward and handed me a giant biscuit bone.
‘Dez, can you look up at the camera, please?’ a photographer called.
But I was too busy eating my first prize.
‘NOM, NOM, NOM…’
Everyone laughed. Afterwards, we had lots of photographs taken together. I couldn’t believe people wanted to take a photograph of me, Dezzy boy. One of the proudest moments of my life, it didn’t feel as good as qualifying as a guide dog but it certainly came a close second! The following day, we were still so excited that Dad called in at the shop to tell all our friends, who were as thrilled as we were. As we closed the shop door behind us, Dad turned to me.
‘There’s just one more surprise left,’ he grinned.
What could it be? I wondered. Perhaps it was a new toy or a big juicy bone?
The flat seemed dark and empty as we approached it. Dad put the key in the lock, but as soon as he pushed open the front door, there was an enormous cheer! I stood there, my mouth hanging open, because it was full of my pals. Stan and Willow were standing in the corner with Bonnie and Kilty, who was holding a ‘Welcome Home’ balloon between her teeth. Max was running around the room, screaming with excitement, while Marvellous Meg looked at him, shaking her head.