by Holly Webb
Buttons was enjoying following all the delicious smells, and with Sophie holding her lead, she could go as fast as she liked. She was sure that there had been a mouse along here recently. It had gone this way, stopped here, then doubled back over here – oh! She was almost at the water’s edge. She stepped back, whining. She loved to look at the water, but she didn’t want to be in it.
Buttons looked up gratefully at Sophie, who was gripping her lead tightly. She was very glad that Sophie had been there to pull her out before. She knew she shouldn’t have run off from Mr Jenkins like that, but they’d been going so slowly. Still she wouldn’t do it again, it was far too dangerous. She wouldn’t run away ever again…
Chapter Three
Sophie and the boys said goodbye to Mr Jenkins at the door. The old man was very grateful, and told Sophie that she was quick-thinking and helpful, and she reminded him of his granddaughter.
“That’s all right,” Sophie said, blushing, as she took her bike back from Tom. “I’m glad I was there to catch her.”
Sophie watched as Mr Jenkins let himself and Buttons into the house, then she and the boys pedalled home excitedly.
Luckily Mum and Dad were having a break from painting, so they were able to listen to Sophie when she dashed in, full of her news.
“Well done, Sophie.” Her dad smiled, but then he looked worried. “I hope you were careful, though. A big dog like a Labrador could’ve easily pulled you in, too.”
“Oh no, Dad, Buttons is only little – she’s just a puppy,” Sophie explained. Then she noticed that Michael and Tom were making faces at her behind Dad’s back and added, “And Tom and Mike were only a bit ahead of me; they’d have pulled me out if I had fallen in.”
Her mum shuddered. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t.”
“I think Soph deserves an ice cream for being clever,” her dad put in. “I could do with one too, after all that painting. Want to run down to the shop?”
“Oooh, yes!” And Sophie gave him a hug, carefully minding the painty bits.
When they were all sitting round in the garden eating their ice creams, Sophie said thoughtfully, “Mum, do you think Mr Jenkins would like me to walk Buttons for him while his leg’s bad? He said he’d have to take it easy for a couple more days, but I think a dog like Buttons needs proper walks every day.”
Mum and Dad exchanged glances, and Mum sighed. “You’re right, Sophie. She would need lots of walks, a young energetic dog like that. Probably Mr Jenkins could do with some help. But it’s tricky. We don’t want to make him feel like we’re interfering, or that we think he can’t cope. If he asked, it would be different…”
“I bet he won’t ask,” Tom said, through a mouthful of ice cream. “He’s not that sort of person.”
“Well, if I see him, I’ll try and sound him out,” Mum suggested. “OK? A compromise.”
Sophie nodded reluctantly. Poor Buttons. It looked like she was going to be stuck in the garden again for a while.
Buttons followed Mr Jenkins into the house a little sadly. It had been fun walking with Sophie. Buttons tried hard not to pull on her lead with Mr Jenkins; she could tell it was hard for him to walk. She forgot sometimes, that was all. It was hard to remember to be careful when she smelled something yummy, or saw something she just had to chase. With Sophie, she had felt it was all right to be her bouncy puppy self and Buttons hoped she would see her again soon. Maybe Mr Jenkins would take her on a walk tomorrow.
But he didn’t. On Monday morning, Buttons hopefully brought him her lead, just in case, but he was sitting in his chair, recovering from the effort of getting down the stairs.
“I’m sorry, Buttons. Not today.” He sighed as he took her lead and heaved himself up. “You go and have a run round the garden, there’s a good girl. And I’ll put your food down for you in a minute.”
Buttons could feel him watching her as she skittered off down the garden. He looked anxious, and she wondered what was wrong. He was holding her lead still, and looking at it sadly.
Buttons looked around the garden and gave a little whine. She would much prefer a walk, but the garden was better than nothing. She was sniffing thoughtfully through the flower bed by the fence, when she came across a little hole under a bush. It was just large enough to get her nose into, but the loose dirt made her back out quickly, sneezing and shaking her muzzle.
Once she’d stopped pawing at her nose, Buttons sat and looked at the hole, with her head on one side. It was only a small hole. But she was quite sure it could be bigger. If there was a hole under the fence, she could go off for a walk by herself. Without even her lead! Buttons crouched down, and started to scrape at the earth with one paw…
The hole took a while to dig, but no one noticed what Buttons was doing because of the bush. It was a perfect cover.
Late the next afternoon, Buttons wriggled and squirmed her way out under the fence, and stood in the street, looking round in delight. She could explore! She could go wherever she wanted! She sniffed the air eagerly. Which way should she go first? The most delicious smells wafted past her and she pattered off down the street, looking around curiously.
On a wall two doors down from Mr Jenkins’s house, a black cat was snoozing in the sun, its tail dangling invitingly down the side of the wall. Buttons trotted up to it and barked. She’d been shut up in the garden for ages and she wanted to run. It would be even better if she could chase something! She didn’t know that chasing cats wasn’t allowed – there was just something about the cat that made her want to bark at it…
The cat woke up with a start, and mewed frantically, its tail puffing out and all the fur standing up along its back.
Buttons stood at the bottom of the wall, barking excitedly, and the cat hissed and spat.
“Go away! Bad dog!” A woman was hurrying down the garden path, waving a trowel crossly.
Buttons didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but she knew what bad dog meant. She slunk away with her tail between her legs, just in time to see Mr Jenkins standing at his gate, looking around for her worriedly.
“Is this your dog?” the cat’s owner demanded. “She’s been terrorizing my poor Felix. You should keep her shut up properly!”
“I’m sorry.” Mr Jenkins limped out and caught Buttons by the collar. “I don’t know how she got out. Has she hurt the cat?”
“Well, no,” the lady admitted. “But he’s terrified!” And she stomped back round the side of her house, carrying Felix and muttering about badly-behaved dogs.
“Oh, Buttons.” Mr Jenkins sighed.
Buttons looked up at him apologetically, giving her tail a hopeful little wag. She hadn’t been that naughty, had she?
Mr Jenkins didn’t know about the hole Buttons had dug under the fence. He thought that the postman must have let her out, or the boy delivering the local paper. He put a notice on the gate reminding people to shut it carefully, and kept Buttons in for the rest of the day.
The next day, Sophie went out to send a postcard to Rachel. The postbox was in the next street to hers – the street where Mr Jenkins and Buttons lived. Sophie was hoping she might see Buttons on the way; she was sure she’d heard her barking from her garden. Mr Jenkins might be in the garden, too – Mum hadn’t had a chance to ask him about Sophie walking Buttons, and Sophie was tempted to ask him herself.
On her way back from sending her postcard, Sophie was just coming round the corner towards Mr Jenkins’s house, when she heard a scuffling noise, loud barking and someone shouting.
Sophie hurried round the corner. Buttons was out! The little brown dog was standing with her front paws on the wall, barking at a black cat who was perched on the top, hissing and trying to claw at Buttons’s nose. “Oh, Buttons, no!” Sophie cried, running over. “You mustn’t chase cats!”
The black cat jumped from the wall into the safety of a tree. Buttons barked one last flurry of barks, then looked guiltily at Sophie. She’d been told off about this yesterday, but she’d forgotten. Cats wer
e just so tempting!
“Do you know this dog? Can you grab her collar, please?” A woman was hurrying up the garden path. “I need to take her back to her owner. This is the third time she’s chased my cat; she was out this morning as well.”
Sophie caught hold of Buttons’s collar, and patted her gently to try and calm her down. Buttons wriggled, so Sophie picked her up instead, and the puppy snuggled gratefully into her arms.
“Be careful!” the cat’s owner said anxiously. “She’s snappy! Vicious little thing.”
Sophie looked at the woman in surprise. Buttons? Sophie was sure she wasn’t vicious, just a bit naughty.
The woman came out of her garden, looking worriedly up at her cat, and opened Mr Jenkins’s gate. “Would you be able to take her back? She seems to behave for you. I really need to talk to Mr Jenkins, this is getting silly.”
Sophie followed her, almost wishing she hadn’t gone out to send her postcard. She was glad she’d been able to catch Buttons – the little dog could have been hurt if she’d run into the road – but she didn’t want to be in the middle of an argument between Mr Jenkins and his neighbour.
Mr Jenkins answered the door, and he looked horrified when he saw them. “Mrs Lane! Sophie! Oh, Buttons, not again…”
“Again,” Mrs Lane said grimly. “The third time. You promised me this morning you wouldn’t let her out!”
“I really am sorry, Mrs Lane. I’ve got someone coming to block up the hole under the fence later on, and I’ve kept Buttons shut in ever since I found it. She must’ve climbed out of the window.” He gestured at an open window, and Sophie noticed that the flowers underneath looked rather squashed.
“If this happens again, I’ll have to report you to the council,” Mrs Lane said crossly. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. But you’re just not keeping her properly under control. She’s a little terror!”
Mr Jenkins frowned. “I can only apologize, and promise you that it won’t happen again.” He sighed and leaned wearily against the door frame.
“Please make sure that it doesn’t.” Mrs Lane looked at him and her voice softened. “Are you all right, Mr Jenkins? Would you like me to call your doctor? You really don’t look very well.”
Mr Jenkins stood up very straight. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” he said coldly. “Sophie, could you pass Buttons to me, please?”
Sophie handed Buttons over a little reluctantly. Mrs Lane was right – he didn’t look well, and she was worried Buttons was too heavy for him to carry. But she didn’t dare say so. “Bye, Mr Jenkins; bye, Buttons,” she whispered.
Mrs Lane stalked back down the path, and Sophie followed her, looking back to see Mr Jenkins closing the window to a tiny crack, and Buttons standing next to him now, with her paws on the window sill – Sophie guessed the puppy was standing on a chair – staring sadly after her. “See you soon, Buttons!” she whispered. Maybe next time she’d ask about being allowed to walk her.
That night, Sophie sat curled up in bed, staring out of her window. Her room was at the back of the house, and she could see the big tree in Mr Jenkins’s garden and his house beyond. Buttons was in there. At least, Sophie hoped she was. She’d been lying in bed, thinking about how she’d go and see Mr Jenkins tomorrow and ask him about walking Buttons, but then she’d had an awful thought.
What if the little dog had already got out again? Sophie had a horrible feeling that if Buttons could dig one hole under the fence, then it wouldn’t be long before she’d make another one. And this time she’d be in real trouble.
I should have been brave enough to ask Mr Jenkins about walking her, she thought miserably, one tear trickling slowly down her cheek. If Buttons didn’t get walked, she’d keep trying to go out by herself. That grumpy lady had said she’d call the council if Buttons chased her cat again.
“Sophie! Why are you still awake? It’s really late.” Her mum was looking round the door. “Oh, Sophie, what’s wrong?” She came in and sat on the end of the bed. “You’re crying!”
“Mum, what would happen to a dog if somebody called the council about her?” Sophie asked worriedly.
Her mum put an arm round her shoulders. “I – I don’t know, Sophie. Is this about Buttons?” Sophie had told her what had happened earlier on.
“Mrs Lane said she’d call the council. They’d take Buttons away from Mr Jenkins, Mum, I know they would. She’d get put in the dogs’ home.”
Her mum sighed. “I know it’s hard to accept, but that might not be a bad thing…”
“Mum!” Sophie looked shocked.
“You’ve been saying that Mr Jenkins can’t walk Buttons enough, Sophie. She’s only going to get bigger, and stronger. She’s not an old man’s dog. She’s such a sweet little thing, she’d probably be adopted by a lovely family.”
“But she loves Mr Jenkins!” Sophie told her anxiously. “You can see from the way she looks at him. And he’s really lonely, with all his family so far away. He needs her, Mum.” She didn’t add that if Buttons got a new home, she’d never see her again – it seemed really selfish. But she couldn’t help thinking it.
Sophie’s mum nodded sadly. “I know. I’m sorry, Sophie. I just don’t think there’s a right answer to all of this.” She stood up, and pulled Sophie’s bedcover straight. “Try and go to sleep, OK?”
Sophie nodded. But after her mum had gone, she went back to looking out of the window, and thinking about poor Buttons, just across the garden. “Be good, Buttons!” she murmured, as she finally lay down to sleep.
Chapter Four
Buttons had just finished her breakfast, and she was playing with one of the new chew toys Mr Jenkins had got to keep her entertained, when she heard a terrible, sliding crash. She dashed into the hallway, where the noise seemed to have come from.
Mr Jenkins was lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs.
Buttons howled in shock and fright. Her owner wasn’t moving. It looked as though he’d tripped over his stick on the way down the stairs. Miserably, she waited for him to get up.
He didn’t.
After waiting for a few minutes, staring worriedly at his closed eyes and pale face, Buttons nosed him gently. Was he asleep?
Mr Jenkins groaned, and Buttons jumped back in surprise. That wasn’t a good noise.
“Buttons…” he murmured. “Good girl. I’ll get up in a minute. Oh…” But as he tried to move, Mr Jenkins collapsed back again, groaning. “No, I can’t.” He was silent for a moment, breathing fast. “Buttons, go fetch help. Go on…” His voice died away, and his eyes closed again, as Buttons watched him anxiously.
He didn’t stir, even when Buttons licked his face, very gently.
Buttons whined. He’d said to fetch help, but she wasn’t sure what he meant. Sophie! She would get Sophie. Buttons was sure she would know what to do.
Buttons backed away from Mr Jenkins slowly, and looked at the front door. It was closed. She trotted down the hallway and into the kitchen. The back door was shut, too. She nudged it hopefully. Mr Jenkins had let her out first thing – perhaps he hadn’t quite closed it properly? But it was shut fast, and pawing at it did nothing.
She walked back up the hallway. Mr Jenkins hadn’t moved. People weren’t meant to be that still. She had to get out and find Sophie! Buttons stood by the door and barked as loudly as she could, hoping that someone would come and open it for her, but no one did.
She stared at the door for a minute, then went into the living room. Buttons eyed the window. She knew she wasn’t supposed to do this. Mr Jenkins had said no, very crossly and that she must never do it again.
But what else was she supposed to do? No one had come when she called. The doors were all shut. It was the only way out, and Mr Jenkins needed help.
Buttons clambered on to the armchair and up on to the backrest, so that her front paws were on the window sill. Then she stuck her nose through the window. It was only open a crack. Mr Jenkins liked fresh air, and he always ha
d the windows open, but he had almost shut this one because of the time she’d climbed out of the window before. But when she pushed with her nose the window opened just a crack more.
Now she could get her ears through – although it was a squeeze and it hurt. Buttons wriggled her shoulders as if she were shaking water out of her fur, and scrabbled and scrambled and finally tumbled out of the window, landing clumsily in the flower bed underneath.
She wasn’t excited by the idea of a trip, like she’d been yesterday. Now she wanted to be curled up next to Mr Jenkins’s armchair, his hand stroking her ears, watching one of those delicious food programmes on the television.
Buttons headed for her little hole under the fence, but when she wriggled under the bush, it wasn’t there! She lay there staring at the fence, whimpering in confusion. Brand-new boards had been nailed across the bottom, and her hole had been completely blocked up. She’d gone through all that trouble to get into the garden, and now she couldn’t get out.
Suddenly Buttons’s ears pricked up. She could hear Sophie! Sophie was in her garden on the other side of the back fence. She wriggled out from under the bush, barking loudly as she ran to the other end of the garden.
“Hi, Buttons!” Sophie called back, laughing, and Buttons barked louder. Sophie didn’t understand! She thought Buttons was just barking to be friendly, like she sometimes did. She would have to get out of the garden and go and get Sophie. She gave a few more loud barks, then scampered back to look at the gate.
She had tried to open it before, and it hadn’t worked, but she had been smaller then. She would try again. She scratched at it, but nothing much happened. It shook a little, but that was all. Buttons took a few steps back and looked up. That silvery part sticking out at the top was what made it open, she was sure. It clicked and rattled when people came in. If she could pull it across, the gate would open. And she thought she was tall enough now, if she really stretched.