A Different Dog

by Jennings, Paul;

  The boy paused at the tree by the gate and looked at the words scratched into its trunk. The dog seemed to sense a painful memory and rubbed against his leg.

  They both stood there listening to the silence of the night until the boy noticed his mother walking swiftly down the path.

  ‘You’re late,’ she said, partly cross, partly relieved. ‘Why are you standing out here?’

  Her gaze fell upon Chase and she sighed.

  ‘You know we can’t have another dog,’ she said kindly. ‘We’ve been through this before. It will run away and then …’

  The boy began to talk in a slow rhythmic voice, prolonging the words like a song with a beat but no tune.

  ‘This dog is Chase,’ he said. ‘I will never let him go.’

  She froze, unable at first to take in what was happening. Then she rushed forward and hugged him so tightly that he was unable to breathe. The tears streamed down her face.

  ‘You’re doing it,’ she sobbed. ‘Talking. Like they tried to show you at the clinic.’

  ‘Relax, Mum,’ he said with the same rhythmic voice.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she said.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ he told her. ‘Let’s go in. It’s cold.’

  They made their way inside and sat down holding hands next to the crackling fire. His mother looked at Chase, already asleep on the mat as if he had always lived there.

  ‘You can keep the dog,’ she said. ‘You’ve had a good day…’

  After a long pause she said, ‘And so have I.’

  ‘What?’ he said.

  She smiled.

  ‘Even though the performing dog didn’t turn up at the end of the race they still raised enough money to start up the new op shop.’

  ‘Great,’ said the boy. She smiled and he could tell there was more.

  ‘And?’ he said.

  ‘And Skinny Luke’s dad gave me the job of running it. A proper wage working in a shop.’

  He rushed over and threw his arms around her.

  ‘It’s better than a thousand dollars,’ he said.

  After this they were happy; the boy, his mother and the dog.

  Slowly and with much help the boy was able to talk more and more comfortably.

  There was always wood for the fire. And a special place next to it for Chase.

  Seven

  A year passed and all was well, until one day there was an unexpected knock on the door.

  A tall man stood there holding a pair of earmuffs. He wore the expression of a person with a task he was not looking forward to.

  ‘I’ve come to talk to you about your dog,’ he said.

  The boy’s mother invited the visitor in and offered him a seat.

  He sat down and put the earmuffs on the floor.

  His eyes fell upon the dog sleeping by the fire. Chase opened his eyes and sat up. At that moment the boy entered the room.

  ‘I’m from the circus,’ the man said. ‘I’ve come for … our dog, Tricky.’

  ‘No,’ screamed the boy.

  He had feared that this moment might come. But he was not ready for it. He would never be ready for it. He rushed over and squatted next to the dog. He put his arm around Chase and hugged him tightly.

  The man took a deep breath and continued.

  ‘We know Tricky’s trainer died on the mountain. It’s taken us a long time to track Tricky down. But finally we went to the SES and they told us they saw you with a dog just like him. The circus owns him. And we want him back.’

  The boy began to tremble. But then he spoke in a firm voice.

  ‘He is mine,’ he said.

  His mother looked at him sadly. She had tried to prepare him for this day.

  ‘I’m sorry that the man died,’ the boy said. ‘I think about him all the time. But this dog is …’

  ‘Ours,’ the man said grimly. ‘I can prove he is ours.’ He reached out and picked up a small piece of wood from the fireplace and threw it across the room.

  ‘Fetch,’ he said.

  The dog regarded him sleepily but didn’t move.

  ‘Walk,’ he said.

  Still the dog did not move.

  ‘Play dead,’ he said.

  ‘Beg.’

  Chase quivered, stood and trotted into the boy’s room. He jumped onto the bed and closed his eyes, totally at peace.

  There was a long silence. Clearly the man was astounded by what he saw. His lips quivered. A look of wonder came across his face.

  Finally the man got to his feet, and began walking slowly towards the door. He stopped, and looked at the boy with a smile.

  ‘I am going back to the circus empty-handed,’ he said. ‘But what am I going to tell them? I can’t lie. Clearly it’s the same dog.’

  ‘No,’ said the boy. ‘Tell them he’s …’ He grinned and pointed to Chase, who had opened one contented eye.

  ‘… a different dog.’

  From the author

  I have had a number of different occupations over the last fifty years: a special school teacher, a speech pathologist, a lecturer in reading education and an author. A Different Dog draws on many experiences in these fields. And of course, it also draws on my own childhood.

  If you ask me, ‘Where did the story come from?’ that’s another thing altogether. I will have to say that I don’t know. It was a matter of putting my hand into the lucky dip of my own mind. There are many presents in that barrel and they are all wrapped so you don’t know what you are going to get.

  One of the influences on a writer would have to be the books that he or she has read themselves. An author cannot copy another’s work and each writer must find their own voice. But somewhere in the back of our minds are tucked the stories we have enjoyed in the past.

  Of the books that I loved when I was aged between thirteen and fifteen I can think of three which I turn back to and read again and again. They are still readily available more than fifty years later. Teenagers and adults love these stories. I still have my old copies and like to look at their torn and worn covers which beckon me from years gone by. Here they are:

  Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. A boy and a runaway slave on the Mississippi River. How I wished I was on that raft. And little did I know that I would still be amazed by their wonderful adventures all these years later.

  The Snow Goose by Paul Gallico. A girl, a bird and disabled man feature in this moving story. When you finish it you just know that there is an untold truth hinted at within the main story and it makes you think for weeks after you have read it.

  The Old Man And The Sea by Ernest Hemingway. This is a lovely story about a boy, an old man and a fish. Exciting, sometimes sad but always making you ask yourself, ‘Could I ever do that?’

  I don’t know if these authors influenced me when I wrote, A Different Dog but if you read any of them you might like to give it some thought.

  I can tell you how I think A Different Dog came into being. When I was eight years old, I had to bury a dead dog. This unpleasant memory was the starting point for my new book. I began writing about how I felt while I was digging the grave for the poor animal. But as the story developed I dropped this bit out altogether and came up with a dog named Chase that was alive but very strange indeed.

  As the wrapping paper came off, something else revealed itself and the story changed completely. It was not about death any more but had ended up being about …

  Well, what do you think?

  Paul Jennings, 2017

  Paul Jennings has written over one hundred stories and has won every Australian children’s choice book award. Since the publication of Unreal! in 1985, readers all around the world have loved his books. The top-rating TV series Round the Twist was based on a selection of his enormously popular short-story collections such as Unseen! In 1995 he was made a Member of the Order of Australia for services to children’s literature and he was awarded the prestigious Dromkeen Medal in 2001.

  www.pauljennings.com.au

  Also by
Paul Jennings

  The Unforgettable What’s His Name, illustrated by Craig Smith

  Don’t Look Now series, illustrated by Andrew Weldon

  Unreal! The Ultimate Collection

  The Nest

  The Cabbage Patch Fibs, illustrated by Craig Smith

  Paul Jennings’ Spookiest Stories

  Paul Jennings’ Trickiest Stories

  and many more!