The Return of the Hundred-Mile-an-Hour Dog

by Return of the Hundred-Mile-an-Hour Dog (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Tina repeated. ‘You must be devastated. Charlie Smugg, too – that’s terrible.’

  I tried to change the subject. ‘Charlie’s been topping up the trough like he did last time.’

  ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ mused Tina. ‘He’s a cheat through and through. I’m amazed that anyone sensible or nice would want to go out with the likes of him.’

  ‘Let’s concentrate on the dog show,’ I said and I was even more embarrassed to find that my voice had gone croaky and I had difficulty trying to sound normal. ‘We need to build an entire agility course this time so Streaker can get a good feel for it.’

  We had reached the old football ground. Tina was examining the tyres we’d left out for the slalom. ‘Somebody else has been here,’ she said. ‘Look. Tyre tracks. Someone on a bike has been using the slalom.’

  We looked around, but the place was deserted. ‘They’re not here now, whoever it was,’ I pointed out and began dragging at a piece of filthy tarpaulin. ‘Give me a hand with this. We can make a tunnel.’

  While Tina and I struggled with the tarpaulin Streaker galloped up and down, chasing flies, throwing herself at the tyres and leaping on to ancient vehicles. If only the agility course had derelict burned-out cars in it, and abandoned fridges, Streaker would win easily. She was brilliant. She flew about the place like some manic stunt dog.

  ‘I’ve never seen a dog with so much energy,’ Tina observed, as Streaker hurled herself from the roof of a truck, landed on a mattress, rolled off, seized a tyre and bit it to death. ‘She’s got more energy than a power station.’

  ‘Yeah, we should hook her up to the National Grid. Streaker could produce enough electricity to boil a million kettles.’

  ‘You’re madder than she is,’ Tina grinned.

  We pushed some old tumble-drier carcasses close to each other, leaving a channel between them. Then we draped the tarpaulin over the top and let it flop over the sides. Tina crouched down and peered through from one end to the other. ‘Just like the real thing,’ she said. ‘You get Streaker and set her off from the other end.’

  ‘You get Streaker.’ That’s what Tina said. Her exact words. Ha ha ha. Very funny. I tried the ‘Walkies’ trick but Streaker had gone deaf. You try catching a dog that can run at a hundred miles an hour, perform more stunts than James Bond and has no idea what ‘SIT!’ means. It took me ten minutes to get her, and by the time I had finished I was covered in dirt of all varieties.

  I held Streaker down at one end of the tunnel while Tina called from the other. ‘And don’t ask me to make squirrel noises this time,’ she yelled.

  ‘Can you do a rabbit?’ I yelled back.

  Tina frowned and vanished below the top of the tunnel. I peered down the dark tube. I could see her at the other end. She had both hands stuck above her head and was waggling them like ears. ‘Weeweeweeweeweeweeweewee.’ She wiggled her nose.

  ‘That’s not a rabbit,’ I told her. ‘That’s this little piggy going weewee all the way home.’

  ‘Can you do any better?’

  I let Streaker go and began to hop round my end of the tunnel. ‘Bloop!’ I said.

  ‘Bloopbloopbloop!’ Streaker wasn’t the least bit interested and wandered away.

  ‘Rabbits don’t say “bloop”,’ Tina shouted from the far end.

  ‘They don’t go “weeweewee” either,’ I answered back.

  ‘What do they say then?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Be something else.’

  But it wasn’t necessary because Streaker suddenly came charging up and zoomed straight down the tunnel like a rocket. Whoosh!

  ‘Brilliant!’ I yelled and was instantly knocked flying by an Alsatian that came tearing after her. I hardly had time to realize what was happening when two more Alsatians thundered past, knocking my feet from under me so that I landed heavily on my backside.

  There was a yell from the other end of the tunnel as Streaker whizzed between Tina’s legs and then she too was bowled over by the Alsatians and away the dogs went, in a cloud of dust. This was quickly followed by a thunderous roar and we saw a scrambler bike bouncing across the old pitch towards us, dodging between all the bits of scattered rubbish. Charlie Smugg – who else could it be?

  But there was something odd. There were two – no, THREE people on the bike! One was riding it and the other two appeared to be standing with one foot on the back seat, clasping each other with one arm while sticking out their free arm and leg in mid-air like some circus act.

  The bike juddered to a halt by the tunnel and the two acrobats pulled off their helmets, still balancing on the back seat in a very showing-off kind of way. Sergeant Smugg and Charlie. And the rider was…?

  The police superintendent himself. Boris Boffington-Orr the Great. Boris the Black Belt Tae Kwon Do. Boris the Blue Peter Badge Holder (Twice).

  ‘I might have known,’ snarled Sergeant Smugg. ‘Trespassers. This place is out of bounds. It would be you two, wouldn’t it?’ He turned to his chief. ‘These two are known troublemakers. What are you doing here?’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Tina, innocently.

  ‘Keeping an eye out for vandals like you.’

  The pack of charging dogs reached the furthest end of the old football pitch. Streaker performed a stunningly tight handbrake turn and came hurtling back towards us. The Smuggs’ three Alsatians tried a similar manoeuvre, lost their grip, crashed into each other, went sprawling in the dirt, scrambled to their feet and set off after Streaker once again.

  ‘It is forbidden for the general public to enter this place,’ Sergeant Smugg continued, sticking out his belly in a bid to look even more important.

  The dogs were getting closer…

  ‘Are you on duty?’ asked Tina.

  ‘A policeman never sleeps,’ said B-O.

  … and closer…

  ‘It looked to me as if you were playing on your bike,’ Tina said.

  ‘Do you know to whom you’re speaking?’ snarled B-O.

  … and closer still. Maybe I should say something?

  And at that point Streaker arrived.

  Now then, you have to get the right picture. Streaker was being chased by three Alsatians, each one three times her size and weight. She was travelling at full speed. To get some idea of how fast this was, think of any number above zero. Now multiply it by five. Add fifty. Add a hundred. Multiply by ten. Now add a thousand and you have the speed at which Streaker was travelling – although it might actually have been a trifle faster – depends what number you started with.

  So, Streaker arrives like a cruise missile fitted with booster rockets. She leaps! Oh! You should have seen it! Such a glorious leap! Like an antelope! No, I’m getting muddled now. She can’t be a cruise missile and an antelope. OK, you’ll just have to imagine an antelope with a cruise missile strapped to her back – and fitted with booster rockets. Back to what happened…

  … Streaker leaps, way into the air! Right over their heads she flies like a soaring albatross. (An albatross clutching a cruise missile strapped to an antelope, etc., etc).

  ‘Oh-woh!’ cry Sergeant Smugg and Charlie and Boff-a-lot as Streaker zooms right over them.

  And then the three Alsatians arrive. Each one is three times bigger than Streaker. Each one weighs three times more than Streaker. They arrive at full speed. They leap. Like antelopes? No. They soar like albatrosses? No.

  The three Alsatians leap like rhinoceroses.

  Have you ever seen a rhinoceros leap?

  No. Of course you haven’t.

  And why not?

  Because they can’t. Rhinoceroses can do three things. They can go. They can stop and they can crash into things. And that is what the Smuggs’ Alsatians did. They smashed straight into the bikers themselves, so it was not just the dogs that crashed. It was Charlie, his dad, Boffington-Orr and the scrambler bike, all at the same time. There was a walloping collision and the bike went over. All three were thrown to the ground.<
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  They had dogs on top of them and dogs beneath them. One Alsatian was not at all pleased to find the superintendent sitting on his back legs, so he bit Boffington-Orr’s bottom.

  ‘Aaargh!’

  Well, at least that got the superintendent back on his feet pretty quickly. He was furious. And that’s how Tina and I both ended up at the police station, under arrest.

  10 A Bit of Progress at Last

  Dad was not very pleased. ‘I’m fed up with coming down here because you’ve arrested my son,’ he told Sergeant Smugg.

  ‘Don’t forget the dog,’ the policeman sneered. ‘I’ve arrested your dog, too.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! What’s she done this time?’

  ‘She attacked me.’

  ‘She did not! It’s not true, Dad!’ I shouted. ‘All she did was jump right over him. You should have seen her!’

  ‘Trevor’s right, Mr Larkey,’ Tina butted in. ‘Streaker was being chased by three Alsatians and she leaped over them. The Alsatians tried to follow but they knocked over Sergeant Smugg, Charlie and Mr Boffington-Orr instead.’

  Dad swallowed and glanced nervously round the office. ‘Mr Boffington-Orr was there, too? Where is he now?’

  ‘The superintendent is being attended to,’ growled Sergeant Smugg.

  ‘One of the dogs bit his bottom,’ I put in.

  Dad choked, coughed, spluttered and desperately tried to keep a straight face. ‘Oh dear,’ he squeaked. ‘Was it a bad bite?’

  ‘The super hasn’t allowed anyone except the doctor to take a look,’ Sergeant Smugg answered, a trifle coldly. ‘However, the superintendent has asked me to inform you that as a result of today’s incident your dog is now on the Dangerous Animals Register, and if your dog does not show some progress in the forthcoming show then she will have to be put down.’

  ‘WHAT??!!’

  ‘Dad?’ I croaked, almost speechless.

  ‘You can’t do this,’ Dad growled, shaking his head.

  ‘Your dog bit the police superintendent,’ Smugg began but he was shouted down by Tina and myself.

  ‘That was one of your Alsatians!’

  Smugg shook his head and smiled. ‘Oh I don’t think so. The superintendent and I both know what really happened.’

  ‘Dad! Dad! It wasn’t Streaker! It wasn’t!’ I was beside myself, almost crying.

  ‘This is gross injustice,’ shouted Dad. ‘You can’t do it.’

  ‘I’m not doing it. It’s a direct order from the police superintendent,’ Sergeant Smugg replied evenly.

  ‘Don’t think you can hide behind him,’ snarled Dad. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

  ‘Your dog’s a menace,’ Smugg snarled back. ‘And a police order is a police order. Good day to you all, and don’t let me catch you at the old football ground again.’

  We were silent going home in the car. The awfulness of it all was really sinking in now. Tina and I sat in the back. Her hand was on the seat, almost touching me and I so wanted to hold it tight.

  I couldn’t do it. What if she pulled her hand away? She might even scream. So I didn’t hold her hand, didn’t even look at her, and I felt so, so miserable.

  Dad quietly asked how Streaker’s training was coming on. Would she be all right in the agility test? Boffington-Orr was really breathing down our necks now. I told him how brilliant Streaker was at jumping and running, twisting and turning.

  ‘But will she complete the agility test?’ Dad repeated. ‘Will she beat those wretched Alsatians?’

  ‘All we have to do is get her to jump and twist at the right time,’ explained Tina.

  ‘Is that a “yes” or a “no”?’ asked Dad.

  ‘It’s… a maybe,’ Tina offered, always trying to be positive.

  Dad gave a long sigh, and Mum pointed out that we only had two days left before the dog show. Gulp.

  Tina and I sat in the back garden and talked things through. She couldn’t understand why the Smuggs had been at the football ground anyway I told her what Charlie had said about the police motorbike display team.

  ‘They must have been practising for that.’

  ‘I guess that means we can’t go back to the football ground then,’ Tina murmured. ‘Streaker will just have to do the best she can on the day’

  ‘But she’s hopeless, Tina! OK, she can do the Wall of Death, as long as you pretend to be a squirrel. She might go through the tunnel if she feels like it. Heaven knows what she’ll make of the slalom and we haven’t even tried the hoop or the see-saw with her.’

  Tina jumped up. ‘We can do the see-saw here, in the garden. It’s only a plank balancing on an old oil drum or something. The dog walks up one end until the other end goes down and then she walks along and gets off. Simple.’

  Tina made it sound really easy so I hunted out a long plank of wood. Then we found a small trestle that Dad used for sawing things sometimes. We balanced the plank so one end was on the ground and the other in the air.

  I went and fetched Streaker and held her at one end of the see-saw. ‘Come on. Good dog. Walk the plank!’ Streaker looked at me, stuck out her long tongue and took a long slurp at my nose as if it were an ice cream. ‘No – just walk up here. Come on.’

  Tina stood at the other end and called her. Streaker look at Tina, pricked up her ears, trotted up the plank, the see-saw tipped, down went Streaker and off she got. I was gobsmacked.

  ‘You did it!’ cried Tina, hugging Streaker. ‘Well done! Clever dog!’

  ‘Quick, try it again from your end,’ I said.

  Tina took Streaker to the see-saw. I called her. Up she trotted, down went the see-saw and off she got. She turned about and did it again, and again and again. Fantastic.

  ‘She likes it,’ I shouted. ‘She actually likes doing it.’

  Tina grinned across at me. ‘That just leaves the hoop.’

  The hoop’s like the tunnel really,’ I pointed out.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you go through a hoop and you go through a tunnel. The difference is that a tunnel is much, much longer than a hoop. A hoop is like a very small bit of a tunnel, as if someone has got a tunnel and sliced off a teeny-weeny sliver of it and called that bit a hoop.’

  ‘You’re mad,’ Tina laughed.

  ‘I’m just saying that if Streaker will go through a tunnel she won’t mind going through a hoop.’

  ‘But she has to jump through it.’

  ‘Oh yes, I forgot about that bit. Tell you what – there’s an old window frame in the shed. We could use that.’

  I ran to the shed and hoiked out a rather cobwebby window frame. It didn’t have any glass in it. ‘There.’

  ‘But it’s rectangular. Hoops are circular.’

  ‘Think of it as a square hoop,’ I suggested.

  ‘You are definitely mad.’

  ‘It’s all we’ve got,’ I answered, and I held it up. Would Streaker jump through it? She ran round it. She barked at it. She jumped through my legs. She went up and down the see-saw, seven times, and then, just as I was about to give up – wheeee! She sailed through the frame. At last there was a very faint ray of hope. Tina and I looked at each other and grinned.

  ‘Sorted,’ she said.

  ‘Sorted,’ I echoed. ‘Apart from the slalom.’

  11 B-O Makes His Move

  The arena was heaving with people, and backstage was even worse. It was not just full of nervous, jumpy, over-excited dogs, it was stuffed with nervous jumpy over-excited dog owners too, all rushing about. The noise! It was like being shut inside a dustbin with twenty dogs and an incredibly loud echo.

  Tina was wandering about looking very excited, searching for Charlie Smugg of all people. ‘Have you heard? Roxy’s been withdrawn from the competition! She’s got a flea infestation and the vet won’t let her take part!’

  This was the first bit of really good news I’d heard for ages. ‘Hurrah. Wonder where she got them from?’

  ‘Charlie probably,’ sh
e joked. ‘He must be around here somewhere.’

  ‘What do you want him for?’

  ‘I don’t. I want to know where his dog is. You know they’ve entered all three Alsatians – one for Obedience, one for Agility and one for Best Groomed. Have you seen the competition for Best Groomed? Mouse doesn’t have a chance. Anyhow, I’ve got some very special super-duper shampoo here. I thought Charlie might like it.’

  I was flabbergasted. ‘Why on earth are you helping Charlie?’

  Tina smiled. ‘I’ll explain later. Look, there he is. He’s just about to give the dog a last wash. Distract him for two seconds, will you?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Don’t you ever stop asking questions? Just do it!’

  By this time we were closing in. Charlie was running some warm water into a big plastic tub. I went and stood next to him.

  ‘You’ll never get him clean,’ I teased.

  ‘What? Oh, it’s you. I might have known. Don’t think you can wind me up because you’re dead, mate. Your dog’s going down and that’ll be the end of her. Ha!’ Charlie drew a finger across his throat, like he was cutting it. He had a huge, sneering grin plastered across his face. Evil was the only word to describe him.

  He stood there crowing and behind him, unseen, Tina fiddled with the dog-cleaning stuff. I hadn’t got a clue what she was doing but she silently slipped away and I guessed she must have done what she needed.

  ‘Streaker pulled off a big surprise once before,’ I said boldly ‘She can do it again, too. You wait and see.’

  And I hurried off, wishing that I had convinced myself by what I’d just said to Charlie. I hadn’t of course. Tina and I might just as well all go and climb into the horse trough right away. Why wait for the dog show and the shame and embarrassment it was about to heap on our heads? And as for poor Streaker…

  The agility trial was going to be the last event because it involved so many different things. The show started with the obedience test and Sergeant Smugg was on top form. You should have seen him! His chest was all puffed out – you’d have thought it was him on show, not his dog.