by Jenny Dale
Contents
A Winter’s Tale
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
The Snow Puppy
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Holly’s Wish
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
A Winter’s Tale
1
“Dick Whittington and his Dog? What sort of pantomime is that?” Neil Parker pointed to a brightly coloured poster on the noticeboard and laughed. “What happened to the cat?”
“Who needs a cat?” his sister Emily said. “Denny’s brilliant. He’s our star pooch.”
Neil and his mother, Carole Parker, along with Neil’s five-year-old sister Sarah, had arrived at the church hall in Compton to collect Emily from her pantomime rehearsal. Every year the Compton Amateur Dramatic Society put on a special Christmas show for the local children, and this time Emily had a small part.
Neil had first met Denny, the golden retriever in the pantomime, when a truck had hit the dog on the road just outside King Street Kennels. Gina Ward, who was in the year below Neil at Meadowbank School, had been walking Denny when the accident had happened. Neil had helped her to look after him while they waited for the vet. He didn’t find out how clever Denny was until much later.
“Fudge is brilliant, too,” said Sarah. “Why can’t he be in the play?”
“Dick Whittington and his Hamster?” said Neil. “In your dreams, Squirt.”
“Hamsters are too small,” added Carole, as Sarah screwed up her face in a sulk. “No one in the audience would be able to see him.”
Neil shifted his feet and looked around. The weather was icy cold outside, with snow expected, and the Church Hall felt distinctly chilly inside, even though he was wearing two sweaters, a padded jacket and a cap with ear-flaps pulled down over his spiky brown hair. He slapped his hands together in their woollen gloves.
Looking around, Neil could hardly believe that the pantomime would be ready in time for New Year’s Eve, just ten days away – or that the cast had already been rehearsing for weeks. The stage was bare except for a couple of chairs and a table, and the people standing in the middle of it were busy talking amongst themselves, not even trying to rehearse.
At the other end of the hall, Chris and Hasheem, two of Neil’s friends from school, were sloshing paint onto a big canvas. In fact, Neil thought, Meadowbank School was well represented; his teacher, Paul Hamley, was there too, perched dangerously at the top of a ladder, fixing one of the stage lights.
“Are you going to be long?” Neil asked Emily. “I want to get back to King Street.”
“I don’t know.”
Neil shifted again and looked impatiently at the hall clock. It was just coming up to half past five. “I’ve got to be home by six,” he said. “Jane Hammond is bringing Jake.”
Before Emily could reply, somebody called her, and she dashed off towards the stage. Neil turned back to where Carole was sitting on one of the hall chairs against the wall.
“Mum, I’ve got to be home by six,” he repeated.
Carole was staring in front of her, not taking any notice of Neil. “I’ve posted the last of the Christmas cards . . .” She ticked the item off on her fingers. “I’ve collected the turkey. I’ve bought the veg, the chocolates and – gift wrap! I’ve forgotten the gift wrap!”
“Oh, Mum . . .”
Carole Parker gathered up her handbag. “Neil, I’m just going to nip down to the High Street before the shops close. Keep an eye on Sarah for me. I won’t be long.”
“Mum—” Neil protested, but Carole’s tall figure was already disappearing out of the hall.
Neil shrugged, and looked round for his little sister. She was waving a brush around, trying to help with the painting but getting more blue paint over herself than on the scenery.
“Mum’ll kill me!” Neil groaned as he looked at Sarah’s paint-spattered jeans.
He walked down the hall to where the scene painters were at work. Hasheem straightened up, making faces and rubbing his back vigorously.
“Here comes the Puppy Patrol!” he said. “Why aren’t you in the pantomime, Neil? There’s a dog in it, you know. I didn’t think anything could keep you away from dogs.”
“You’ve got to be able to sing,” Neil replied. Then he grinned. He was a bit disappointed not to be in the pantomime, but he wasn’t going to make a fuss about it.
“And your voice sounds like all the dogs in King Street howling at once.” Hasheem chuckled. “That explains a lot.”
Neil’s parents, Carole and Bob, ran a boarding kennels with a small rescue centre, in the country town of Compton. The thought of all the residents of King Street Kennels howling at once was pretty grim.
Neil looked down. “So what’s all this arty stuff, then?”
“It’s the road to London,” Chris said, squatting back and brushing hair out of his eyes, leaving a blue streak across his forehead. “You know, ‘Turn again, Whittington’, and all that.”
The canvas showed a road and some trees, and blue sky which Chris and Hasheem were filling in. There was a signpost with London 7 in big black letters.
“Dick makes friends with this stray dog,” Chris explained. “In our case with Denny back there.” He pointed to a makeshift dressing room at the side of the stage. “Then it goes to London with him and makes his fortune.”
Neil wasn’t really listening; Emily had been talking about the panto non-stop, and he knew the story backwards. He glanced up at the clock again. Twenty to six. “I’m going to be late,” he muttered to himself.
On stage the actors and stagehands had finished moving the furniture around. Gina’s older sister, Beth, came out from behind a curtain and stood centre stage. She played Dick Whittington, though she didn’t look much like it at present, dressed in blue jeans and a sporty-looking hooded sweatshirt. Her long fair hair was all over the place. Denny trotted on stage as well, and sat at Beth’s feet. Everybody else went off, and Neil suddenly became interested as he realized they were going to rehearse one of Denny’s scenes.
Beth sat down at the table and pretended to be holding a pen. “Denny, we sold five shillings’ worth of spices to Mistress Williams, and three shillings’ worth to Master Snip the tailor. Five and three, Denny – what does that come to?”
Denny, who had been listening alertly, barked eight times. Neil, who knew what to look for, saw the hand signal Beth gave him when he had to stop, but it was such a small movement the audience would never notice. They would see a dog that was bright enough to do maths!
Everybody laughed and clapped when the little scene was finished. Beth stood up and took a bow, then patted Denny. The retriever looked pleased with himself, his tongue hanging out in a wide doggy grin.
“I’m going to teach Fudge to count like that,” Sarah announced.
Neil groaned.
At last, the rehearsal was coming to an end. Mr Hamley came down his ladder and Beth led Denny off stage. Everyone else began collecting their belongings and putting on their coats. Gavin Thorpe, the vicar, appeared at the door of the church hall carrying a heavy bunch of keys, ready to lock up.
“At last!” said Neil. “Can we go now?”
“What’s the rush?” Hasheem asked. “You’ve bee
n squirming ever since you got here.”
“I’ve got to get home. Jake’s coming tonight.”
Hasheem looked puzzled. “You never said you had a mate staying for Christmas.”
Chris laughed, and swiped at Hasheem with his brush. “Get real, Hasheem! Since when have you known Neil to be bothered about looking after his friends? Jake’s a dog, you dimbo!”
Neil grinned at him. Chris Wilson was his best friend, and he’d heard a lot about Jake in the last few weeks. Jake was a Border collie pup – the son of Neil’s beloved dog Sam, and another Border collie called Delilah, who lived at the neighbouring Old Mill Farm. Delilah had a beautiful brood of five adorable pups – and now that Jake was finally old enough to leave his mum, he was coming to live with Neil.
Delilah’s owner, Jane Hammond, had promised to bring ten-week-old Jake round at six o’clock that evening. It was one appointment Neil had no intention of missing.
He said goodbye to Chris and Hasheem, and with Sarah in tow went to collect Emily, who was giggling in a corner with her friends, Gina Ward and Julie Baker. She grinned at Neil as he walked towards her.
“I told you Denny’s brilliant,” she said.
“That’s a great scene,” Neil agreed, feeling a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be in the show. “You’ve trained him really well, Gina.”
“It’s Beth really.” Gina went pink with pleasure. “He’ll do anything for her.”
“This will be the best pantomime ever,” Julie said. She laughed. “Do you think we should have Ben in it as well?”
Neil winced. Julie’s Old English sheepdog, Ben, was the sloppiest and most loving dog you could hope to meet – and the clumsiest. Neil smiled as he pictured flying props, furniture tipped over and scenery falling on top of a surprised but well-meaning Ben.
Then he stopped smiling. He had noticed the clock again. It said almost five to six – and where was his mother?
It was after six by the time the Parkers set off home in their green Range Rover with the King Street Kennels logo on the side. Neil was fizzing with impatience in the front seat.
“Calm down,” Carole told him. “Your dad’s at home. Jane will wait for you.”
“But I want to be there,” Neil said. “Jake’s mine. I want to welcome him.”
The night was already pitch black and cold and snow had started to fall. Carole was driving carefully for fear of skidding. Snowflakes whirled in the headlights. On the back seat Sarah was bouncing up and down chanting, “I’m going to make a snowman! I’m going to make a snowman!”
“Shut up, Squirt,” Neil muttered.
“When are we going to decorate the tree?” Emily asked. “Can we do it tonight? Sarah and I have made some decorations.”
“I made a big star,” Sarah announced proudly.
“We’ll see when we get home,” Carole said. “We’ve got loads to do before Christmas, and this weather isn’t helping.”
Neil was feeling very excited about the thought of his new puppy. Jake would be his to look after all the time now. It wasn’t just fun, Neil knew. It was a big responsibility. Just as well that school had finished, and he would have all the Christmas holiday to settle Jake into his new home.
As the Range Rover approached King Street Kennels, another car, coming from the opposite direction, turned in at the gate. Neil recognized the Hammonds’ brown Volvo at once.
“There’s Jane!” he exclaimed. “Brill! We haven’t missed her!”
As soon as their car had stopped, Neil hurled himself into the drive and over to the Volvo where Jane Hammond was getting out. She was small and slim, with curly dark hair, and she wore a waxed jacket over a thick sweater and cord trousers.
“Hi, Neil,” she said, smiling. “All ready for the new arrival?”
“Sure!” Neil grinned back.
Jane opened the back door of the car and reached for a pet carrier on the seat. By this time the rest of the Parkers had joined Neil.
“Is it Jake?” Sarah asked, wriggling past Neil to peer into the back of the Volvo. “Can I see?”
“Let’s get him inside,” Carole said. “Then we can all see.”
“Don’t get in the way, Squirt,” Neil said. “You’re holding things up. Jake will be getting cold.”
Jane gave the pet carrier to Neil to carry into the house. He could feel a small body shifting around inside it and hear a scrabbling sound. Against the mesh at the front of the carrier he made out a black nose and two shining eyes.
Light flooded down the steps as the front door opened and the tall, broad-shouldered shape of Bob Parker appeared. “I thought I heard a commotion! Come inside, all of you – it’s freezing out here.”
Neil hurried inside with the pet carrier, squeezing past his father, and everyone crowded after him down the passage to the kitchen.
Neil set the carrier down in the middle of the kitchen floor. His fingers were shaking as he undid the strap and let the flap fall forward.
“Jake?” His voice was unsteady. “Come out, Jake. This is your new home.”
A tiny black muzzle thrust itself out of the shelter of the carrier, followed by the rest of a black and white head with bright eyes and silky ears. Black paws propelled the rest of the puppy a pace or two into the kitchen where he stood watching Neil, who had squatted down in front of him.
“Jake?” Neil repeated. “Hi there, Jake.”
The tiny pup looked alertly at the others who stood around him, and back at Neil. He advanced another step and nosed at Neil’s outstretched hand. His little tail suddenly began wagging frantically.
“He remembers me!” Neil said delightedly. “He knows who I am.” He looked up at Jane, who stood smiling down at him. “Thanks, Jane. This really is going to be the best Christmas ever!”
2
Sarah reached out to stroke the puppy, but Carole quickly caught her hand. “Not just yet,” she said. “Give him time to settle in first.”
Jake had started to move away from the pet carrier, nose down to the kitchen floor and tail in the air as he tried to make sense of this exciting new place. Neil watched; he knew he had a silly grin on his face, and he didn’t care.
“Coffee, Jane?” said Carole, above his head.
“Please. It’s arctic out there, isn’t it? The snow’s already sticking on the lane down to the farm. That’s why I was a bit late.” She took out an envelope and handed it to Carole. “Before I forget, there’s Jake’s vaccination certificate. He’ll need a second dose in about a month, but you’ll know all about that.”
“I’ve been reading about it,” Neil piped up. “If he’s not vaccinated, he could get distemper and hepatitis and . . . oh, I’ve forgotten the others.”
“Poor Jake!” said Sarah. “All those needles stuck in him!”
Bob laughed. “No, love, it’s all in one injection. Though there is another vaccine against kennel cough. He’d better have that as well, because he’s bound to come into contact with the boarding dogs when he’s a bit older.”
Neil nodded, not taking his eyes off the puppy. Whatever Jake needed to grow into a happy, healthy dog, Neil would see he had it.
As Jake was exploring the kitchen, he came close to the basket where Sam would usually be drowsing at this time. Jake sniffed the blankets inside.
As if on cue, Sam padded into the room, disturbed from his cosy spot in front of the living room fire by the noise everybody was making.
“It’s Jake’s dad!” Sarah clapped her hands vigorously.
Sam sat beside his basket and watched the young puppy exploring his new surroundings.
“Do you think Sam knows that he’s Jake’s dad?” Emily asked.
Neil held out his hand to scratch Sam’s ears. “I’ve been reading about that, too,” he explained. “Dogs don’t really know about families like we do. Wild dogs live in packs, so that’s how they think. Sam was here first, so he’s pack leader. That means we have to show Jake that Sam’s the boss.”
“How do we do tha
t?” Emily asked.
“Oh, it’s easy. Feed Sam first; pat him and praise him first if they both come to you.” He scratched Sam’s ears again, smiling affectionately. “Jake’s terrific, but Sam mustn’t feel left out.”
Sam had been Neil’s dog for years, ever since he had been found as a puppy, abandoned and wandering on the old Compton railway line. Until recently, he had been a champion in local Agility competitions. But just a few weeks ago, at the same time Jake was born, they had discovered that Sam had a heart murmur. Even though he was still a happy, healthy dog, there would be no more Agility contests for Sam. He had to take it easy from now on.
Neil laughed as Jake put his paws up on the edge of the basket and sniffed curiously at Sam. Sam bent his head; father and son touched nose to nose.
“Aren’t they sweet!” said Emily.
“Hey!” Neil said as Jake’s hind feet scrabbled against the basket. The pup was trying to climb in, and Neil wasn’t sure how Sam would take the invading of his territory.
Neil gently pushed Jake away. Carefully he picked him up with one hand under his chest and the other supporting his hindquarters, and carried him across the kitchen.
“This is your basket, Jake,” he said.
For now, Neil had brought in one of the plastic beds that they used in the rescue centre, and padded it with warm bedding. Puppies always chew their beds, and letting Jake chew a proper basket might hurt him when he was so tiny.
Next to the bed were two big china bowls. Neil put Jake down in front of them and filled one of them with water. Jake stuck his nose in for a long drink.
“Isn’t he small?” Sarah said.
“Biggest in the litter!” Neil protested.
“He’s very young,” Carole explained to Sarah. “But he’ll grow. You just wait!”
Sarah gazed at Jake as if she expected him to grow in front of her eyes. “Aren’t you going to feed him?” she asked.
“Give him a small meal later on,” Jane suggested. “He’s on four meals a day at the moment: two of puppy meal with milk, and two of mince mixed with brown bread – cornflakes now and again for a change. I’ve been putting a teaspoonful of bonemeal and one of cod liver oil in one of the meat meals.”