‘But people will miss them!’
‘Nah,’ said Pete. ‘It’ll just give them a chance to plant more. Gardeners like planting things!’
‘What other good ideas have you had?’ asked Gunk suspiciously.
‘This!’ Pete held up some fuzzy brown stuff.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s false hair. To make pretend beards and stuff. Mum bought it for me when I was in that play last year and had to dress up as a gorilla.’
‘A gorilla?’ exclaimed Gunk.
‘Well, it was either that or a fairy princess,’ explained Pete. ‘Can you imagine me as a fairy princess? Yuk. Anyway, Mum got tonnes too much. I thought we could stick the gorilla hair all over Spot, with extra on her neck to disguise how long it is, and put tufts of hair round her feet, like a Poodle.’
‘Great,’ said Gunk. ‘I’ll have the only dinosaur–Poodle cross in the world. A poodlosaurus!’
‘And then,’ said Pete proudly, ‘we have to teach Spot to bark!’
CHAPTER 16
Teaching Spot to Bark
Gunk had to admit that Spot looked different covered in gorilla hair. Not exactly dog-like, but definitely not like a rhoetosaurus.
The ears made a difference too. Pete had made them out of cardboard and covered them with more gorilla hair. The ears were a bit lopsided, but Pete said that didn’t matter because no one checked dogs’ ears to see if they were straight and, anyway, it was time for breakfast and she was starving.
Gunk was starving too, and Spot was ready for a snack at any time.
It was nearly ten o’clock before Spot had finished her hay and potatoes and Pete’s mum’s straw hat, though that had been an accident and Spot had said sorry. Well, she’d said ‘Spt’ in an apologetic sort of way, at any rate.
By then Gunk had eaten his muesli and toast and Pete had eaten her pancakes with honey that her mum made every Saturday. Pete had brought a couple of pancakes out for Spot too.
Spot liked pancakes.
‘I like pancakes too,’ said Gunk, looking wistfully at the pancake crumbs in Spot’s dribble.
‘Do you?’ asked Pete, looking up vaguely from a thick book titled Dinosaurs of the Australian Jurassic. ‘You know, it says here that rhoetosauruses might have eaten stuff in the swamps. Maybe I could take Spot down to the lake in the Botanic Gardens tonight and see if she likes waterlilies.’
‘I’ll come too,’ said Gunk immediately. He wasn’t going to have Pete kidnapping, er, dognapping, er, dinosaurnapping Spot all the time.
‘Why? I’ll be safe with Spot to protect me.’
‘I wasn’t worried about you,’ began Gunk, then stopped, because, after all, Pete was helping hide his dinosaur. ‘I wasn’t worried about you not being safe,’ he said. ‘I just thought it might be fun to do it together.’
Pete grinned and suddenly Gunk was pleased he’d changed what he had been going to say.
‘Cool,’ said Pete. ‘Okay, let’s get on with the barking lessons. It should be easy. Spot is so clever. We just have to show her how to say “woof” too. Okay, Spot.’
‘Spt?’ said Spot.
‘This is how you do it…’
CHAPTER 17
Still Teaching Spot to Bark
Four hours later Gunk was exhausted, Pete had almost lost her voice, and Spot still hadn’t barked.
‘You just go woof!’ explained Pete for the one hundred and fiftieth time. ‘It’s easy, Spot!’
‘Spt,’ said Spot.
‘No, try it again.’
‘Sptttttt?’ said Spot.
‘No, w—’
‘Give up,’ said Gunk tiredly. ‘Spot is never going to bark.’
‘There must be something we can do!’ cried Pete. ‘Maybe we could tie a tape deck round her neck with a recording of woofs on it.’
‘Someone would notice,’ said Gunk gloomily. ‘Then they’d think, hey, why has that dog got recorded woofs round her neck, and then they’d notice the gorilla hair and…’
‘Well, you think of something!’ demanded Pete.
‘I have,’ said Gunk. ‘We’ll only take Spot for walks when no one is around, like you suggested. And I’ll borrow Fliss’s tape deck and we’ll record some barks on it and keep it in your shed. Then every now and then, when someone goes by, we can play the recording and they’ll think, hey, there is a dog in there.’
Pete frowned. ‘I suppose it’ll work,’ she said unenthusiastically. ‘Maybe we can also carry the tape with us when we take her for a walk, so she can bark then too.’
‘Good idea,’ said Gunk. He hesitated. ‘You know, there’s just one thing…’
‘What?’ asked Pete.
‘Well, you said your rhoetosaurus wasn’t a full-grown one.’
‘A full-grown model of a rhoetosaurus wouldn’t fit in the shed,’ began Pete. Then her eyes widened. ‘Oh!’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ said Gunk. ‘What happens when Spot really grows up?’
CHAPTER 18
Woof
The thought worried Gunk all the afternoon. There was no way he and Pete could hide a full-grown dinosaur in the backyard! There was nowhere you could hide a full-grown dinosaur except maybe in the Amazon jungle or something, and he and Pete couldn’t smuggle a dinosaur onto a plane and say, ‘Take us to South America’.
Could rhoetosauruses swim? wondered Gunk. Maybe Spot could swim to South America with them on her back…Nope, that was no good—even a dinosaur would get too tired swimming all the way to South America.
Maybe there was something else gigantic they could disguise Spot as! An elephant? But even elephants were tiny compared to a dinosaur like Spot.
‘What are you thinking about?’ asked Pete, as they carried Fliss’s tape recorder along the footpath.
‘Oh, nothing,’ said Gunk. Maybe Spot wouldn’t grow to full size for years. Why worry Pete now? Gunk looked around the street. ‘How come there aren’t any dogs about!’ he complained.
‘It’s Saturday afternoon,’ said Pete. ‘Maybe they’re all on picnics…or asleep. Hey, there’s a dog!’
‘That’s Mrs Finn’s beagle,’ snorted Gunk. ‘It’s too fat and sleepy to bark.’
‘Well, we can try,’ said Pete. ‘I’ve got an idea.’
‘Why aren’t I surprised?’ muttered Gunk.
‘What did you say?’ asked Pete.
‘Oh, nothing,’ said Gunk. ‘What’s your idea?’
‘You go miaow! That’ll wake the dog up and it’ll start barking.’
‘Why can’t you miaow?’
‘Because I’m working the tape recorder. Go on!’
Gunk looked around. At least no one was watching. ‘Miaow,’ he muttered.
‘Huh!’ said Pete. ‘No self-respecting dog would bark at that! Put some guts into it!’
‘Miaow,’ said Gunk a bit louder.
‘Oh, for cripes sake,’ said Pete. She handed Gunk the tape recorder. ‘I’LL be the cat. You take the tape recorder. MIIIAAOOOW!’ she shrieked.
Mrs Finn’s beagle lifted its head in horror and darted under the front steps. Mrs Finn’s blind snapped open and Mrs Finn looked out.
‘What is it?’ she cried. ‘Is someone being murdered? Help, police!’
‘Er…it was only us, Mrs Finn,’ called Gunk hurriedly. ‘We’re just…’ Just trying to make your dog bark for my dinosaur, he thought. Mrs Finn would love that!
‘Just rehearsing for the school play!’ called Pete. ‘I’m really sorry, Mrs Finn. I was pretending to be a cat and…’
‘Cat!’ snapped Mrs Finn. ‘It sounded like a vampire attacking the garbage man!’ She banged the window shut.
‘So much for Mrs Finn’s beagle,’ said Gunk. ‘How about we try the Great Dane in that house over there. I bet it’ll start barking as soon as it sees us.’
‘Okay,’ said Pete. They crossed the road and stared at the Great Dane. ‘Come on. Look like a burglar!’ instructed Pete.
‘Look like a burglar? How am I supposed to do tha
t?’ objected Gunk.
‘Oh, never mind,’ said Pete. ‘Maybe it’ll think you look suspicious enough anyway. Hey, dog, we’re over here!’
The dog peered up at them. A great doggy grin spread across its face. It leapt up and bounded over to the fence.
‘Come on, bark! Bark!’ muttered Gunk.
‘Woof! Woof!’ said Pete helpfully. The dog leapt up again and licked her face.
‘Errk,’ said Pete, wiping off the dog spit. ‘Come on, you dumb dog! Woof! Woof! Woof!’
The dog sat down and wagged its tail.
‘It’s no good,’ said Gunk. ‘It’s just a really friendly dog. I don’t think it has a single woof in it.’
‘Well, I know where there’s a dog that really will bark,’ said Pete.
‘Why didn’t you take us there in the first place then?’ demanded Gunk.
‘Well,’ said Pete. ‘There’s just one problem…’
CHAPTER 19
A Bark at Last
‘Got the tape recorder on?’ whispered Pete.
‘Yes,’ said Gunk. ‘Why are you whispering?’
‘Because…’
Arf!Arf! Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!
Something small and hairy charged out from under the fence.
‘What the…?’ began Gunk. ‘Is that a rat?’
Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!
‘Nope, it’s Nanky-poo. He’s an Australian Terrier,’ gasped Pete. ‘And he’s…’
Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!
The tiny terrier sank his teeth into Gunk’s jeans.
‘…mean!’ finished Pete. ‘Let’s get out of here!’
They ran down the street, a small ball of mangy fur snapping at their ankles. It lost interest halfway down the road and turned back to attack a bicyclist heading the other way.
‘Oof!’ groaned Gunk. He bent down and inspected his jeans. ‘Look, the little runt’s torn a hole in them! They were my best jeans!’
‘How about your leg?’
Gunk rolled up his jeans and inspected his leg. ‘No blood,’ he said. ‘I suppose his fangs weren’t long enough to get through jeans and skin.’
‘Anyway,’ said Pete with satisfaction, ‘we’ve got our recording.’
‘Huh,’ said Gunk, ‘they’re not your jeans. Turn it on, anyway, and let’s hear it.’
Pete rewound the tape and pressed ‘Play’.
Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!Arf!
‘Um, Pete,’ said Gunk.
‘Yeah?’
‘There’s one problem.’
‘What?’ asked Pete.
‘That sounds like a thirty-centimetre rat with rabies pretending to be a Rottweiler. We’ve got a two-metre dinosaur pretending to be a poodle! No one is going to believe that scrappy noise came out of an animal as big as Spot!’
‘Maybe they’ll think she has laryngitis,’ said Pete defensively. ‘You come up with a better idea!’
‘Can’t.’ Gunk looked at his watch. ‘I have to be home for dinner. We can look for a dog with a proper bark tomorrow.’
‘Okay,’ said Pete. ‘The recording is good enough to use tonight anyway, when we take Spot for a walk. You still coming?’
‘Sure,’ said Gunk. ‘No worries.’
Except a two-metre dogosaurus in the backyard, he thought. And a dinosaur-mad girl with crazy ideas next door.
Pete grinned. ‘It’ll be so cool!’ she exclaimed. ‘Imagine taking a real live dinosaur for a walk! And it should be quite safe if we wait till it’s really late. What could go wrong?’
CHAPTER 20
Plans
It was just growing dark when Gunk lugged Spot’s dinner out to the backyard. No one in the family seemed to have noticed Spot’s transformation, but then Dad never noticed anything unless it was cute, and to Mum only things on computers were real, and Fliss had been servicing her motorbike when he went past with Spot, and she had barely raised her head.
‘Here, Spot!’
‘Spt?’ Spot galloped up. She had been leaning over the fence so she could peer through the shed window at the rhoetosaurus. Gunk wondered if Mum and Dad and Pete’s mum would mind if he and Pete took down part of the fence. That way Spot could get in and out as much as she liked.
Gunk looked at the fence more closely. The way it was leaning it looked like Spot would push it over soon anyway, if they didn’t take it down.
‘Din dins, Spot,’ said Gunk.
‘Spt,’ said Spot happily, crunching a lettuce in her wide jaws then gulping down another.
‘I brought her some dessert!’ Pete clambered over the fence, then hauled over a bucket.
‘What’s in it?’
‘Chopped up sweet potato, six tomatoes and half of Mrs Feather’s rose bush.’
‘Won’t she notice?’
‘Nope,’ said Pete.
‘I said I was pruning it for her. She thinks I’m so sweet.’ Pete’s voice dripped with scorn. ‘I said I’d prune the rest of her rose bushes tomorrow and her hedge. Hey, I had a great idea!’
‘What?’ asked Gunk suspiciously.
‘How about we take Spot down past the rubbish dump instead of to the Botanic Gardens? There’s hectares of lantana down there. I bet everyone would be really glad if Spot cleaned it up.’
‘They’d probably give her a medal!’ said Gunk. ‘Pity we can’t tell anyone. But we have to go through the centre of town to get to the rubbish dump.’
‘We’ll wait till really late, after everyone’s gone to bed,’ said Pete. ‘It’ll be dark then too. Spot can have a real feast,’ added Pete happily. She hesitated. ‘Gunk?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Is it okay with you if I hug your dog? I mean your dinosaur.’
‘Okay by me,’ said Gunk generously.
Pete stretched up and hugged Spot’s long, fat, gorilla-furred neck, then she stood on tiptoe and kissed Spot’s big, bald nose.
‘You’re the nicest dinosaur in the world,’ Pete said to Spot.
‘She’s probably the only dinosaur in the world,’ Gunk pointed out.
‘Yeah, but if there were a million dinosaurs, Spot would still be the nicest one!’
‘Spt,’ agreed Spot, dribbling into Pete’s hair.
CHAPTER 21
Taking Spot for Walkies
It was a long way to the dump. Gunk’s legs ached, and the moon was high in the sky when they finally arrived at the lantana patch. Luckily they hadn’t met anyone along the way, so they hadn’t had to turn on the woof machine.
‘Oooof,’ said Pete. ‘My feet hurt.’
‘So do mine,’ said Gunk. ‘We’ll get really fit if we keep this up. Let’s find a tree or something to lean against while Spot has a feed.’
‘Spt!’ said Spot, looking hungrily at the lantana.
‘Okay,’ said Pete. ‘Start chomping, Spot. You’ve got an hour to stuff your belly then we’re going home to sleep.’
‘Spt,’ said Spot contentedly.
It was peaceful leaning against the tree, thought Gunk, with Pete beside him and Spot munching lantana out on the hillside. You couldn’t see Spot’s gorilla hair in the pale light or the Poodle feet or the glued-on ears either. This must be what the world looked like one hundred and forty-four million years ago, thought Gunk drowsily. Giant beasts like Spot feasting on the hillside, with strange trees around them.
‘What sort of trees were there back in the Jurassic?’ he wondered sleepily. He’d have to ask Pete. But not now, later…
Gunk opened his eyes. ‘What the…?’ He glanced at his watch.
‘Pete! Pete! Wake up!’
‘Hmph? What is it?’
‘We fell asleep! It’s two o’clock in the morning! And Spot has eaten nearly all the lantana,’ he added.
‘Good,’ said Pete. ‘It’ll fill her up nicely. And it doesn’t matter if it’s late. What difference does it make if we sleep here or in a bed?’
Gunk’s aching back said it made a lot of difference. But he didn’t say anyt
hing.
‘Spot!’ he yelled. ‘Here girl!’
‘Spt!’ said Spot, bounding up to them. Her stomach was bulging and a long tangle of lantana hung from her mouth.
‘Finish your dinner, Spot,’ said Gunk. ‘It’s time to go home.’
‘Spt,’ said Spot agreeably. She swallowed her lantana, burped, then leant down and butted Gunk affectionately.
Gunk picked himself up out of the remnants of the lantana. ‘You’re getting too strong, Spot,’ he complained. ‘No, no, I love you just the way you are,’ he added hurriedly, as Spot looked downcast. ‘Come on, let’s get home before someone notices we’re gone!’
It seemed even longer this time. It was uphill too. After ten minutes Gunk stopped. ‘I’m pooped,’ he said.
Pete looked back at him. ‘Well, unless you want to sleep on the side of the road tonight, we’d better keep going.’
‘No, wait! I’ve got an idea,’ said Gunk. ‘You’re not the only one who gets ideas,’ he added.
‘Never said I was,’ said Pete. ‘So what’s this idea then?’
‘We ride on Spot.’
‘We what? You can’t ride a dog!’
‘But she’s not a dog, she’s a dinosaur!’ Gunk pointed out.
‘Well, you can’t ride a dinosaur!’ said Pete.
‘How do you know?’
‘Because no one ever has!’
‘Only because dinosaurs had all died out before humans came along,’ argued Gunk. ‘Well, all except for Spot. Anyway, we won’t know till we try.’
‘Okay, you try,’ said Pete. ‘I’ll watch.’
‘All right,’ said Gunk. He gazed up at Spot and all at once his confidence faded. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea! He’d never even climbed on a horse before, much less a dinosaur!
‘Spt?’ said Spot curiously, dribbling lantana-scented spit in a little pool on the footpath.
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