by Lou Kuenzler
“Isn’t he gorgeous?” I said.
Just ahead of us, Yana stopped.
She was standing outside the very last cage in the line. “You can help with all the dogs,” she explained. “But I thought it would be fun if you pretend this small chap was your very own.”
My heart was pounding again. I pinched myself – hard! A just for us! But when I stepped forward, I couldn’t see anything in the cage at all.
“It’s empty,” I said, disappointment washing over me. Perhaps someone else was looking after him already.
“I can’t see anything,” Nisha agreed.
“Look again.” Yana slid open the bolt.
“Oh!” I cried as something in the basket stirred.
There was a snuffling sound like a piglet and a tiny black nose poked out from under the blanket.
“Ah!” sighed Nisha.
The smallest, , dog I have ever seen rolled out on to the floor. He stretched and yawned, opening his little mouth as wide as a sleepy tiger. His podgy belly it was almost scraping along the ground as he padded across the floor towards us. He was covered in tufts of , brown hair like a tiny baby bear. One ear poked up. The other looked as if it had been hurt in a fight. It was torn and ragged like a scrap of old paper. He had the deepest, darkest eyes imaginable.
“We think he is a little mixed up,” said Yana. “A bit of this breed. A bit of that. Perhaps part chug?”
“Chug?” asked Nisha. “What’s that?”
“Half chihuahua, half pug,” I said, proudly. I had read about them in my Bumper Book Of Dogs.
Yana smiled. “I see you know lot about dogs, Violetta. The chihuahua explains why this little fellow is so small…”
“And the pug explains his turned-up nose,” I grinned.
“But why is he so long?” asked Nisha as the tiny dog stretched.
“We think there is a bit of wire-haired dachshund in there too,” said Yana. “You know, like a hairy sausage dog. That explains his long body and thick coat.”
“He’s ” I said, bending down so he could sniff my hand. He snuffled sleepily at the edge of my sleeve and a of joy ran through me.
“What’s his name?” I asked, pinching the side of my leg.
“We don’t know his real name,” said Yana. “An old lady found him in a dustbin and brought him to . He is still young, about two years old. But he had been very badly treated.”
“How horrible,” I shuddered.
“I call him Chip,” said Yana. “Short for Chipolata.” She frowned. “Is that how you say it in English? You know, like the little sausages you get on sticks at parties.”
“That’s the perfect name,” I grinned as he nuzzled me again. “Hello, Chip.” I scratched between his ears. “He’s And look how quiet he is, and so well behaved. Just think! We could have had Tiny instead.”
“Oh, Chip is not quiet – just sleepy,” grinned Yana. She handed us a little red lead and collar. “Now he is awake, you will see…”
“What do you mean?” I said, as Chip shook himself. He on to his back as if he was waiting for his belly to be tickled.
“You will find out,” smiled Yana. She pointed through a glass door towards a big sloping field scattered with trees. “We walk the dogs out there in the orchard. If there is any trouble, I will come.”
“What sort of trouble could there be?” said Nisha. “There are two of us and he is such a tiny dog.”
“Ah, but small dogs make big trouble,” warned Yana. And with that she was gone.
As we walked down the path through the orchard, Nisha grabbed my sleeve.
“Tell me everything about shrinking,” she begged.
“Later,” I promised. “Just as soon as we get home. Let’s just enjoy being with Chip for now.” He trotted along beside us in amongst the apple trees.
“I think he wants to be our friend,” Nisha grinned.
He kept glancing up to check we were still there.
“I know how he feels,” I laughed. “It’s not easy being small.” Chip was shorter than the top of my wellington boots. “He’s worried he’ll be left behind. Or worse, that someone might tread on him. Isn’t that right, boy?”
Chip his tail as if to agree.
Every once in a while, he stopped and yawned. I had to give a gentle tug on his lead to make him keep up.
“I don’t know what Yana was worried about,” said Nisha. “He seems like such a good little dog.”
But just at that moment, a squirrel dashed across our path.
“ ” Chip dived forward, and now it was me who felt a tug on the lead.
“Steady!” I cried, trying to haul him backwards as he strained against me. He might have been small but he was chubby too, and super strong. Nisha grabbed hold of the lead as well.
“” Chip barked again, yapping at the squirrel as it shot up the nearest apple tree.
“Stay, boy!” I said. Chip would never be able get away now. Not with both of us holding the lead.
He flopped down on to his belly and looked up at us sadly, his big dark eyes pleading, as if to say: Ooh, let me get that squirrel. Let me get him! Please! Please! Please!
“We’re not allowed to let you off,” I said. “You can’t get round us that easily.” But as I turned and took a step forward, I felt the lead go limp in my hand.
Chip had free. There was nothing on the end of lead now but an empty collar.
“ ” Chip sped off across the orchard like a firework on Bonfire Night.
“Chip!” I bellowed. “You come back here.”
“Oh dear,” said Nisha as we charged after him.
but Chip had disappeared in the long grass.
Nisha stopped to clutch her side. “He’s vanished,” she panted.
“He’s got to be here somewhere.” I said, looking around desperately. “We can’t tell Yana we’ve lost him. Not yet! The whole point of coming to was to show Mum and Dad how responsible I could be.”
“And Yana already thinks we’re crazy,” groaned Nisha.
“Chip!” I cried at the top of my voice. “Chip! Where are you?”
Five minutes passed and there was still no sign of Chip.
I looped the empty lead around my shoulders.
“We better go back,” said Nisha. “If we tell Yana what’s happened, perhaps she can help find him.”
I knew Nisha was right.
“Let’s just go round once more,” I begged. “Perhaps he’s right down the bottom in those bushes.”
There were only about five or six apple trees spread out across the orchard – it was more like a big field, really, although it was surrounded by a high brick wall. The grass was criss-crossed with stony paths that sloped downhill towards a scruffy tangle of brambles and tall weeds. I was sure that was where Chip would be.
“I don’t know,” said Nisha. “I think we ought to—”
“Wait,” I held up my hand. “What’s that?”
“”
“Chip!” Already I’d recognize that strange little bark anywhere. “See – he’s in the bushes!” I cried as a squirrel shot out of the undergrowth and flew up the nearest tree.
A moment later Chip dashed after it. He was running so fast it looked as if he had a tiny legs instead of four.
“You are the funniest dog I’ve ever seen,” I laughed, dashing forward with my arms spread wide. “Now sit, boy! Sit!”
I leapt in front of him. But Chip shot straight through my legs, still barking at the squirrel.
“Catch him, Nisha!” I cried.
Nisha dived. She nearly caught him round the tummy but Chip swerved sideways.
The squirrel was long gone. But Chip wanted to play with us instead. Every time we leapt forward, he dived sideways, dodging behind nearby apple trees … always just out of reach.
Although I was scared we might never catch him, it was brilliant fun.
“This is a great game,” I laughed.
The faster we ran, the more Chip yapped.
“ ”
“This dog is a tiny terror,” exclaimed Nisha, tears of laughter streaming down her face.
“A total tearaway!” I agreed as I slipped down the slope on my bum. “Yana did try to warn us.”
I collapsed in an exhausted heap on the grass.
“Oh, Chip,” I sighed. “What are we going to do with you?”
He leapt into my open arms.
“Got you!” I hugged him tight.
“Look how he’s wagging his tail,” smiled Nisha.
I flopped on to my back and Chip lay panting with his shaggy head resting on my chest.
“Are you exhausted from being ?” I said.
Chip wagged his tail again.
“He really likes you, Violet,” said Nisha. “I can tell.”
“Do you think so?” I grinned. But I knew it was true. As Chip looked at me with his big, black, watery eyes, I felt a sharp tingling in my toes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warned Chip. But it was too late – the tingling had spread to my fingertips already.
“Nish!” I squeaked. “Get Chip off me. I think I’m going to shr…”
But it was too late. I had already shrunk. My voice was tiny and I was buried underneath Chip’s podgy tummy – like a lost key under a sofa cushion.
“Let me out!” I squealed. I and and
It must have tickled because Chip leapt up and scratched his tummy wildly with his back leg.
“Careful!” cried Nisha.
“I’m not a flea, you know, Chip,” I said, leaping out of the way.
Chip stopped scratching and stared down at me. He wrinkled his nose and sniffed my hair.
“Stop! Now you’re tickling me,” I squealed as Chip tried to push me over with his nose. He opened his mouth. His tongue was hanging down like a piece of wet cloth.
“Yuck!” I leapt backwards as a splash of drool hit the ground. I’d only just recovered from being dribbled on by Tiny.
“Look out!” shouted Nisha. “He’s going to lick you. He thinks you’re a lolly.”
But Chip didn’t lick me. Instead he lifted me in his jaws … and My head was hanging out of one side of his mouth and my feet out of the other, like a sausage in a hot-dog bun.
“Stop!” cried Nisha.
“Bad boy!” I squealed. I knew Chip wasn’t going to eat me – his grip was far too gentle for that – it was more as if I were his favourite toy. I was stuck between his squishy gums while he all over me like I was a soggy chew bone.
“Ew!” I was really going to need to have a good bath tonight.
Chip seemed to think this was all just another game.
When Nisha dived left, he dived right. If she crawled, he . If she ran, he
“PUT HER DOWN!” ordered Nisha.
“ ” barked Chip. I almost fell out of his mouth but he closed his jaws again.
I’m having far too much fun, he seemed to laugh to himself. I am never, never, never going to put her down.
Why hadn’t I slipped his lead and collar back on when I had the chance?
He still held me firmly, but he never clamped his teeth tight shut. Nisha didn’t know this, of course. She must have thought I was being chewed alive.
“DROP!” she begged as Chip danced from side to side in front of her.
Suddenly, a loud sharp shrill whistle blew:
Chip stopped in his tracks and stared towards the kennels. Yana was standing in the doorway.
From inside Chip’s jaws I felt him slump. He knew he was being naughty. It reminded me of the saggy feeling I get in my shoulders when Miss Penman spots me doing cartwheels in the corridor at school.
“Where is Violetta?” Yana called. “Are you having a problem, Nisha?”
“Yes! Chip wriggled out of his collar.” Nisha held up the empty lead. “I can’t catch him. Now he’s got Vi—”
“NO!” I called out desperately, hoping that Nisha could hear me. Yana was still too far away for my tiny voice to carry. “CHIP ISN’T GOING TO HURT ME! I’M FINE!”
“Come on, Trouble,” said Yana, jogging down the path. “Think you could escape, did you?” In one swift movement she bent down and scooped Chip up.
“Back to the kennel with you,” she said, clutching him under her arm like a little fat handbag. She never noticed me, of course, buried under the fuzzy whiskers around his mouth.
Poor Nisha jogged alongside, looking worried and nails.
If only I could tell her I had a plan.
Chip was sure to drop me once he was back in his cage. Then I could slip through the bars and Nish could look after me until I grew back to full size.
One small problem! All that running had made Chip thirsty…
As soon as Yana put him in his cage, he made a dash for his water bowl.
“AHHHHHHHHH!”
The second his jaws were open,
towards the water.
“Geronimo!” With a super-quick, super-cool move Uncle Max had taught me on the trampoline,
Without the springy trampoline, I wasn’t fast enough. I sat in the water bowl right up to my neck as if I were taking a very very bath.
I squelched to the side, sat on the edge of the bowl and emptied my tiny soggy wellies.
“Where has Violetta gone?” said Yana, taking the lead and collar from Nisha. She fastened the bolt and locked Chip’s door. “Her father has come to collect you both. It is time to go home.”
“Erm … she’s in the toilet again,” said Nisha, helplessly glancing towards me as I down, dripping wet, behind Chip’s water bowl. “Perhaps she wanted to have a wash.”
It was more than a wash! I was soaked to the skin. I was about to peep out and do a funny dance in my wellies just to show Nisha that I was OK. But as I looked at the front of the cage, my heart sank.
There was no way out of here.
Unlike the bars in Tiny’s kennel, which were set wide apart, Chip’s cage was covered with tight wire mesh.
The holes in the wire were minute. Each one was no bigger than the end of a felt-tip pen lid. Even though I was tiny, there was no way I could squeeze through.
Dad was waiting to take me home. But I was in the cage … stuck on the wrong side of the wire like a rabbit in a hutch.
Still I crouched behind Chip’s water bowl and stared helplessly up through the wire.
Nisha kept glancing in my direction. The whole idea of shrinking was so new to her, I hoped she wouldn’t panic and say anything to give me away.
Yana patted her on the back.
“Thank you for help,” she said. “You and Violetta are welcome to come to again.”
“Really?” Nisha sounded as if she couldn’t believe it.
“Of course! It is not so bad you let Chip go,” smiled Yana. “He is a rascal. Yes?”
“Yes,” agreed Nisha. Chip his whole body from side to side, squirming with excitement because he knew they were talking about him. He nearly knocked me over with his tail, which was spinning around like a propeller blade in front of my nose. I was so small, I think he had forgotten I was there.
“You and Violetta can enter Chip in the dog show next month if you like,” said Yana.
A dog show? I stood up on tiptoes. Had Yana really said we could enter Chip? That would be .
“ have a dog show every year to raise money,” Yana explained. “It is a very big event with lots of prizes. A real chance for dogs and humans to show off.” Yana laughed.
“Oh…” said Nisha, sounding uncertain. But I peered round the side of the water bowl and gave her a mini thumbs up.
This was brilliant! A dog show would be the chance to show Mum and Dad how well I could handle a dog. OK, Chip and I might need a bit more practice. But we could enter something easy like Dog With the Waggiest Tail … or The Shortest Legs contest.
“We could both win that,” I giggled to myself as Chip flopped down on the floor and closed his eyes for a nap.
“Violetta’s father is waiting,” Yana was saying to Nisha.
“You better tell him she is on her way.”
“Er … right…” Nisha looked helplessly towards the water bowl.
“Go,” I mouthed, pointing in that direction with my tiny finger. Yana glanced over to see what Nisha was staring at and I behind the water bowl, out of sight.
I was sure I could find a way to escape from the cage once Yana was gone, but I needed Nisha to go to Dad and make up a good excuse about why I was late. Otherwise he’d just think I was being , keeping him waiting.
“Perhaps Violetta has a poorly tummy?” I heard Yana say as she led Nisha back towards the reception. “She is spending so much time in the toilet.”
“Yes … that must be it,” agreed Nisha.
I hoped she would tell Dad the same thing. It would be a good way to explain where I had gone and why I was taking so long.
Now all I had to do was find a way to escape from Chip’s kennel. Then, with a little bit of luck, I’d grow back to full size and be able to catch up with Nisha
“But getting out of here won’t be easy,” I said, smiling at Chip.
I stepped back to get a better view of the cage.
“Aha!” The wire didn’t actually reach all the way to the roof. There was a small gap between the top of the cage and the ceiling – about as tall as a box of cereal. I could just about through even if I was full size, but it would be while I was mini. The climb to reach it might take a while … but I am pretty quick. I practise climbing all the time in the adventure playground at King’s Park.
“Bye, Chip,” I said, to scratch behind his ear. He nuzzled me happily. I don’t think he really minded that I was miniature. Dogs know people mostly by their smell. I suppose that would be the same whether I was as as a girl or as small as a pine cone.
“See you soon.” I leapt up on the wire and began the steep climb. If only there was some way I could catch up with Nisha. I could hide under her collar or swing on her plaits, whispering excuses so she could tell Dad why I was late. I knew he’d want to know where I had been.
“Oh, just hanging around,” I giggled to myself as I dangled from the wire by one arm.
Far below, I could see Chip staring up at me like a small, short-legged mountain goat.
“ ” he barked, his strange little yap now sounding more like a whine.