A Home for Rascal

by Holly Webb

  Ellie lifted Rascal off her damp jeans and nodded. She carried Rascal over to his newspapers. “Here, look, on the newspaper…” Rascal looked round at her apologetically and gave his tail a tiny wag. “It’s OK, I’m not cross. I’m going to have to go and change, though!”

  Lila shook her head and giggled. “I can’t believe he weed on you! Rather you than me, Ellie!”

  Ellie lifted Rascal out of his pet carrier and clipped on his lead, just in case he wriggled out of her arms in the vet’s. Rascal was looking around eagerly, his tail wagging with excitement.

  Ellie laughed. “It’s only the vet’s car park, Rascal! I just can’t wait to take him for a proper walk, Mum.”

  “It won’t be long now. We need to wait a week for the vaccinations to work, that’s all.”

  “Oh, I thought he’d be able to go out straight away. A week is ages,” Ellie said sadly. “It’ll be almost the end of the holidays by then. And Christy’s going to be really disappointed, too.”

  “You’ll still be able to walk him after school once you go back,” said Mum. “And Christy can come over to play with him whenever she wants.”

  The vet’s waiting room was empty, apart from one lady with a cat basket, sitting in the corner. Ellie and Mum sat down to wait for their turn, and Rascal sniffed around their chairs, fascinated by all the strange smells.

  It wasn’t long before he noticed the cat basket, and he eyed it eagerly. Before Ellie could stop him, he’d pulled the lead from her hands and scampered over to take a look. Ellie dashed after him and grabbed the lead, just as Rascal poked his nose through the bars.

  “Rascal, I wouldn’t—”

  There was a burst of angry hissing. Then a sharp-clawed paw shot out of the front of the basket, sending Rascal reeling backwards, right into a display stand of leaflets, which scattered all over the floor.

  The cat’s owner glared at Ellie, and Rascal scuttled back to her, whimpering. Mum quickly started to pick up the leaflets, looking embarrassed.

  Ellie cuddled Rascal tightly and whispered in his ear. “Shh, it’s all right.” She lowered her voice even more. “It’s a horrible mean cat, just leave it alone.”

  “I should have known he’d be trouble,” Mum sighed, as she replaced the last of the leaflets. “I only hope it’s our turn soon.”

  Mum had arranged ages ago for Auntie Gemma to take Ellie and Lila shopping that Friday. (Max had been invited too, but he’d said he’d rather have his fingers cut off.) Ellie was a bit worried about leaving Rascal, even though he’d been fine since his injections. She’d been out without him, of course, but only for short walks with Christy and Bouncer, and to the shops with Mum. This was a whole day. Still, he’d have Mum and Max.

  Auntie Gemma made a big fuss of Rascal. But she wasn’t too happy when she realized he’d chewed through the leather thong holding the charm on to her handbag, which she’d unwisely left under the table. “Don’t worry, I suppose it won’t be too hard to mend,” Auntie Gemma said, as Ellie apologized. “Shall we get going, girls?”

  Ellie missed Rascal, even though they had a lovely time shopping. Auntie Gemma bought her a gorgeous purple T-shirt, and a red one for Lila. Then Ellie persuaded her to take them to a pet shop, where she got Rascal a special chew toy with a space to put dog treats in. Ellie wanted to make up for leaving him behind.

  For lunch, Auntie Gemma took the girls to a pizza restaurant. Normally, pizza was Ellie’s favourite, but she just couldn’t help thinking about what Rascal was doing without her. She picked at her food, wondering if Rascal would like pepperoni. It felt strange not to have him begging by her chair for Ellie to feed him little titbits when Mum wasn’t looking. She hoped Mum had remembered to give him all his special meals, and to wash off the sticky porridge one from his ears before it set.

  Ellie raced up the path when they got home, and rang repeatedly on the doorbell.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” came Mum’s voice. She opened the front door, looking harassed.

  “Oh, I’m glad you’re back, Ellie!”

  “What is it? Is Rascal OK?”

  “Well, he sat by the kitchen door and moaned the whole day – when he wasn’t howling! Max tried to cheer him up, but I think he just wanted you. Oh, I’ve got such a headache.”

  There was a whimpering and scrabbling sound coming from the kitchen, and Rascal threw himself at Ellie as soon as she opened the door.

  “Just look at those scratches on the paintwork!” Mum cried.

  Auntie Gemma laughed. “I think you named him just right, Ellie!”

  “Rascal, no! Ellie, catch him, please!” Mum sounded cross. Rascal was sick of being shut in the kitchen, and was getting clever at sneaking out whenever anyone opened the door even a crack. “If he escapes again, then no walk today!”

  Ellie carefully shooed Rascal back in. “Sorry, Rascal! This is your room.” She turned to her mum. “You didn’t mean what you said about not going for a walk?” she asked worriedly.

  Mum sighed. “No, I suppose not. And we probably should start letting him out of the kitchen now he’s settled in. But he got halfway up the stairs twice last night, before your dad caught him. I think he wants to be with you.”

  Ellie imagined Rascal asleep on her bed. She looked at her mum hopefully. “Could I … just once?”

  “No! And don’t think I won’t notice if you try and sneak him into your room. He sheds those white hairs everywhere he goes!”

  Rascal looked over at Mum with big brown eyes, as she opened the fridge door. “Oh, yes, you’re very cute, but you’re not getting round me. Don’t try and pretend you’re starving, just because I’ve got the fridge open.” She frowned. “There should be some ham in here I was going to use for lunch. Max must’ve eaten it!”

  Ellie opened her mouth and then shut it again, as Max came into the kitchen.

  “Mum! I’m starving, what’s for lunch?”

  Mum glared at Max. “How can you possibly be hungry when you’ve eaten all that ham that was in here? Toast is what you’ll be getting now; there’s nothing left for sandwiches!”

  “I didn’t eat it!” Max protested.

  Mum folded her arms. “Like you didn’t eat that whole packet of biscuits last week?”

  “I did take the biscuits, I told you I did, but not the ham. This is so unfair!”

  “Fine. No lunch,” Mum snapped.

  “Um, Mum…” Ellie muttered. “It was me…”

  Mum looked at her wide-eyed. “You ate half a packet of ham? Ellie, you don’t even like ham. I always have to do Marmite for you!”

  “Rascal likes it,” Ellie whispered.

  Mum looked down at Rascal, sitting innocently by Ellie’s feet. “You fed it to Rascal? All of it?”

  “He was hungry…” Ellie stared down at the floor. She wasn’t used to Mum being cross with her. “And I thought he might need a little extra, with his first proper walk this afternoon. Sorry, Mum.”

  “Ellie, you’ll make him sick if you overfeed him,” Mum explained. “You really mustn’t give him anything that isn’t his proper food. And don’t take food out of the fridge without asking!” She frowned. “You’d better both be angels from now on, or the walk really can wait for another day!”

  Ellie nodded. “I will, and Rascal will too, I promise!”

  “I just hope he isn’t sick,” Mum muttered.

  “Hey, what about me?” Max put in.

  “What am I going to have to eat if Rascal’s had all the ham?”

  “Can we go yet?” Ellie asked hopefully. Mum seemed to have been pottering about for ages. Luckily, the ham didn’t seem to have upset Rascal’s stomach, and Ellie had managed to hide her pair of flip-flops that Rascal had stolen from under her chair during lunch. Hopefully she could stick the flowery bits back on before Mum noticed.

  “Why don’t you get his lead, Ellie, while I finish my cup of tea?” Mum smiled at her.

  Just then, Max came in dangling Rascal’s red lead, and Ellie’s face fe
ll. Of course Max and Lila would want to walk Rascal too. She’d forgotten that, imagining it would be just her and Mum.

  Rascal looked at the lead uncertainly, and Ellie wondered if he remembered his trip to the vet’s. But he let Max clip it on. “Come on, Rascal,” Max called, leading him to the front door. Mum and Ellie followed, and Lila ran down the stairs to join them.

  However, when Max opened the front door, Rascal let out a frightened little squeak. He sat down on his bottom and wriggled backwards when Max tried to yank at the lead.

  “Rascal, walk! Come on, we’re going to the park!” Max said.

  Ellie stifled a giggle, and Max glared at her. “You do it then, if it’s so funny!” He handed her the lead.

  She crouched down next to Rascal, and stroked him gently. “Shall we go for a walk, Rascal?” she murmured. Then Ellie dropped one of his special dog biscuits just below the doorstep. “Come on, sweetheart.”

  Rascal stepped down to snatch the biscuit, and crunched it up. Then he sniffed at the plants by the side of the path, and took a cautious step forward.

  “She cheated,” Max muttered.

  Ellie practised walking Rascal round the front garden first, and then they set off down the road. But it was a very slow walk, because Rascal wasn’t really used to his lead. In the end, Ellie carried him most of the way to the park, which luckily wasn’t far away.

  When they reached the gate, Rascal stopped and stared at the huge space, dotted with trees, with a hill leading down to the big pond at the bottom. Lots of other dogs were running around, and it looked like dog heaven.

  Rascal pulled excitedly on the lead and barked loudly as a huge black Labrador came snuffling past. Ellie laughed. “Let’s run!” They dashed off across the grass, Max, Lila and Mum racing after them. Everyone laughed at Rascal as he bounced along, jumping so he could see over the long grass.

  Finally, Rascal stopped and sat panting at Ellie’s feet.

  “Aww, he’s worn out!” Lila laughed.

  But suddenly, Rascal’s ears pricked up. He was staring down the hill at the ducks waddling and flapping around the reeds at the edge of the pond. He shook himself briskly and set off down the slope, his tail wagging madly with excitement. Ellie raced after him, skidding and sliding as they sped through the grass.

  “Ellie, no!” Mum shouted.

  Ellie tried to stop, pulling hard on the lead, but Rascal was too interested in the ducks. They’d noticed him now, and were starting to quack anxiously, fluttering their feathers and slip-sliding into the water as fast as they could.

  “Not in the water! Rascal, stop!” Ellie gasped.

  And he did, skidding to a halt just at the edge, and barking crossly at the ducks as they paddled away.

  Unfortunately, Ellie was running so fast that she stumbled. She wobbled on the edge of the pond, before tumbling forwards and sitting down with a splash, up to her chest in dirty, slimy pond water.

  “Uurrgh!” Ellie groaned. “Don’t look at me like that, Rascal, this is your fault. Oh, yuck, I’m sitting in duck poo!”

  Max slid down the slope and stood laughing at her. “You’re soaked!” He knelt down and stretched out a hand to help her up.

  Rascal yapped sharply.

  “Max, look out!” Ellie cried, as Rascal ran up to Max and scrabbled at the back of his legs, knocking him off balance.

  Mum and Lila arrived just as Max toppled into the pond too, sending another wave of muddy water all over Ellie.

  Lila sniggered, then backed off a few steps as Max and Ellie staggered out. “Don’t you dare come anywhere near me!”

  “What are you two doing? ” Mum asked, staring at them in horror.

  “I was trying to help!” Max protested. “I was pulling Ellie out, but Rascal jumped up at me.”

  “Oh dear.” Mum shook her head. “Maybe he thought you were trying to hurt Ellie. He does seem to think she’s his special person.”

  Even though she was soaking wet and covered in mud (and worse) Ellie felt like she was glowing inside.

  She was Rascal’s special person!

  “I just don’t know what to do with him, Grandad!” Ellie sighed, watching as Rascal investigated Grandad’s garden. She’d brought him round for some advice. Grandad had kept Freda shut inside. Ellie wasn’t sure Rascal was ready to meet another cat just yet!

  “What’s he been up to?” Grandad asked her.

  “We took him for his first walk yesterday, to the park.” Ellie went red. “He was really naughty.” She told Grandad about the pond incident, which made him laugh.

  “Isn’t it normally the dog that gets all wet and muddy on a walk, not its owner?” he joked.

  “I’m taking him out again later, with Christy. I just hope he’s a bit better behaved. Everyone’s getting a little grumpy with him,” Ellie said finally. “He ate one of Dad’s slippers when we got home from the walk.”

  “Didn’t you tell him off?” Grandad asked.

  Ellie nodded. “Well, Dad did. I’m not very good at telling him off.”

  “But Rascal doesn’t think he’s your dad’s dog, Ellie.”

  “Oh … I see what you mean.”

  Grandad smiled. “If you’re going to have all the love and the cuddles, then you need to do the hard stuff, too. And I don’t just mean the falling in ponds, Ellie love. You need to be the one who makes Rascal behave.”

  Ellie watched Rascal trying to creep up on a butterfly. He was so gorgeous, but if he kept on being naughty, he’d be a terror when he was a grown-up dog. It was a big responsibility.

  “This is going to be so cool!” Christy beamed, as Ellie opened the front door. She went to untie Bouncer’s lead from the gate.

  Ellie nodded. “I know. But we’re not going anywhere near the pond, OK? I still smell of mud and I’ve had two baths since yesterday. Come on, Rascal!”

  He pattered out of the front gate, looking very smart in his red collar and lead. Dad had got the little bone-shaped tag engraved with Rascal’s name and their phone number.

  “He’s so tiny and Bouncer’s so huge!” Ellie laughed as Rascal sniffed interestedly at Bouncer. “Oh, Rascal, don’t sniff his bottom, that’s rude!”

  Bouncer sniffed Rascal back, and then gave him a friendly lick. His tongue covered Rascal’s whole head, and Rascal gave a confused sneeze. He let out a sharp, cross bark, and Bouncer stepped back, his tail between his legs.

  Christy burst out laughing. “Bouncer, you can’t be scared of Rascal – you’re ten times bigger than he is!”

  Bouncer lay down with his nose on the pavement, his tail wagging. Rascal gave the bigger dog’s nose an approving lick, and then they set off together down the road.

  Ellie and Christy smiled at each other. It looked like Bouncer and Rascal had sorted things out for themselves.

  Ellie ended up carrying Rascal most of the way to the park again, as he kept getting tangled up in his lead.

  “Has he done anything else awful lately?” Christy asked, as they approached the park gates.

  “No! Well, he chewed my sketchbook this morning. But only the edges…” she admitted. “I tried to tell him off, like Grandad said. It’s really hard. He looked so upset!”

  “He’ll turn into a monster if you never tell him off.” Christy shook her head.

  “I know. I really tried. Stern voice and everything, honestly.” Ellie sighed. “But he just gives me this really sad look… I’ve just got to try harder, I suppose.”

  That night, Ellie lay in bed smiling sleepily to herself. She had loved walking with Christy and Bouncer and Rascal. It was so much more fun now that she had her own dog. Even though he had barked at every dog they walked past, and tried to climb a tree, chasing after a squirrel that was almost bigger than he was!

  There was a gentle scratching at her bedroom door, and suddenly it swung open. Ellie sat up, her half-asleep brain thinking of ghosts, and her heart thudding.

  But the little white shape was no ghost. It was a puppy.

  “R
ascal! How did you open the kitchen door?” Ellie whispered. “Did Dad not shut it properly?”

  Rascal put his paws on the side of her bed and looked at her hopefully. Ellie lifted him up. “We’ll get in trouble if Mum finds out, so shhh!”

  Rascal scrambled happily down the bed and curled up on Ellie’s feet. He felt just like a heavy hot-water bottle.

  Ellie sighed happily and snuggled down under her duvet. Her own little dog, sleeping on her bed. It was what she’d dreamed of.

  “Sometimes I’m really glad you’re naughty…” she whispered, and she drifted off to sleep, reminding herself to brush all the dog-hairs off her duvet in the morning…

  About the Author

  Holly Webb started out as a children’s book editor, and wrote her first series for the publisher she worked for. She has been writing ever since, with over sixty books to her name. Holly lives in Berkshire, with her husband and three young sons. She has a pet cat called Marble, who is always nosying around when she’s trying to type on her laptop.

  Copyright

  STRIPES PUBLISHING

  An imprint of Little Tiger Press

  1 The Coda Centre,

  189 Munster Road,

  London SW6 6AW

  Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2010

  Illustrations copyright © Kate Pankhurst, 2010, 2012

  First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2012.

  eISBN: 978–1–84715–281–7

  The right of Holly Webb and Kate Pankhurst 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.