by Dayle Gaetz
Sea Dog
Dayle Campbell Gaetz
with illustrations by
Amy Meissner
Text copyright © 2006 Dayle Campbell Gaetz
Interior illustrations copyright © 2006 Amy Meissner
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Gaetz, Dayle, 1947-
Sea dog / Dayle Campbell Gaetz; with illustrations by Amy Meissner.
(Orca echoes)
ISBN 1-55143-406-7
1. Dogs--Juvenile fiction. I. Meissner, Amy II. Title. III. Series.
PS8563.A25317S38 2006 jC813’.54 C2006-900339-4
First published in the United States 2006
Library of Congress Control Number: 2006920831
Summary: Kyle finds a dog washed up on the beach and claims it for his own; when the dog’s original owner shows up and tells his sad story, Kyle must make a hard choice.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Department of Canadian Heritage’sBook Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), the Canada Council for the Arts, and the British Columbia Arts Council.
Design by Lynn O’Rourke
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626, STN. B
Victoria, BC Canada
V8R 6S4
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 468
Custer, WA USA
98240-0468
Printed and bound in Canada.
09 08 07 06 • 5 4 3 2 1
To Cypress. —D.C.G.
For Pelle, who is also from the sea. —A.C.M.
Chapter One
Wind howled around Kyle’s house. A big gust rattled his window. Rain pounded the roof above his head. Waves crashed on the beach.
Kyle pulled the covers over his head. He didn’t want to think about his dad. But the storm made him remember. When there was a big storm, Dad always woke up early. He always made pancakes for breakfast.
He always called Kyle and Mom. They ate pancakes until they almost burst. While they ate they looked out the window. Waves tumbled and roared against the beach.
“This storm will bring lots of treasures,” Dad always said.
After breakfast, Kyle and Dad always put on their rain slickers. They took their treasure bags. Hand in hand they went in search of treasure.
One day Dad found a glass fish float. Another time Kyle found a running shoe. It fit his left foot. The best treasure they ever found was a toy sailboat. It was yellow and red and had a white sail. “It must have fallen from someone’s boat,” Dad said.
That morning Kyle felt happy and sad. He felt happy for himself. He felt sad for the child who lost this special sailboat.
This morning Kyle felt sad again. He felt sad for himself. He pushed the covers from his face. Morning light crept around his window blinds. He looked at the beautiful toy boat on his dresser. His eyes watered.
There would be no more treasures. Dad didn’t live here anymore.
Kyle shut his eyes tight. He tried not to think about treasures. He tried not to hear the roar of wind and waves. Soon he drifted off to sleep. He dreamed about Dad. He dreamed they walked along the beach hand in hand. He dreamed they found the other running shoe.
“Kyle!” his mom called.
Kyle’s eyes flew open. He smelled coffee brewing. He smelled pancakes cooking. Was his dream real? He leapt out of bed and ran to the kitchen.
His mom was making pancakes. She bent to give him a big hug. “Go and get dressed,” she said. “The wind is dying. It’s almost time to search for treasures.”
She smiled at him with watery eyes. Kyle blinked. His eyes filled with tears.
Mom and Kyle didn’t eat very much. They weren’t hungry today. They watched green and white waves break against the beach. Rain streaked down from a dark gray sky.
Kyle helped his mom clear the breakfast table. “Go put on your rain slicker,” she said. “And don’t forget your treasure bag.”
Kyle didn’t want to go out. But he didn’t want to disappoint Mom. She was trying to make things better for him. So he dressed in his yellow rain slicker. He took his red mesh treasure bag from its hook.
They walked hand in hand along the sand. Clumps of seaweed lay tangled on the shore. Chunks of driftwood dotted the beach. Kyle carried his treasure bag and tried to smile.
“Look, Kyle.” His mom stopped at a clump of seaweed. “This might hold a treasure.”
Kyle lifted handfuls of green eelgrass. He dragged a long brown piece of kelp from the clump. It felt cold and slimy in his bare hands. Underneath was a stick of driftwood. “Not much of a treasure,” he said.
The stick was just right for walking, though. Kyle carried it with him. He poked at another clump of seaweed. Underneath was a big, red, dead jellyfish.
“Don’t touch,” Mom said. “The stingers hurt even after the jellyfish dies.”
“That’s no treasure.” Kyle sighed. He wanted to go home.
“Look at that!” Mom said.
Kyle looked down the beach, near the water’s edge. He saw a huge clump of tangled seaweed.
“I’ll bet there’s a treasure under there,” Mom said. They lifted away handfuls of seaweed. They moved chunks of driftwood. Underneath was a huge, flat driftwood board. On it lay something black. And wet. And hairy. It was tangled in seaweed.
“Don’t touch,” Mom said. “I think it’s a dead seal.”
But Kyle lifted one more handful of seaweed. “It has an ear,” he said. “It looks like a dog.”
“Poor dog,” Mom said. “It must have drowned in the storm last night.”
Kyle pulled away more seaweed. He uncovered the dog’s face. “Its eyelid moved! It’s alive!”
Chapter Two
They uncovered the rest of the dog. It lay still on its driftwood board.
Mom put her hand on the dog’s chest. “It’s breathing!” she said.
“We need to take it home,” Kyle said. “How can we carry it?”
Mom took off her rain slicker and covered the dog. “You stay here,” she said. “I have an idea.”
Kyle sat on the wet sand beside the wet dog. He patted the dog’s head and scratched behind its ear. “Please live,” he whispered. “I promise to take good care of you.”
Mom returned with the wheelbarrow. It was lined with towels and covered with a tarp. “Kyle,” she said, “you lift the dog’s head. I’ll lift its body. We’ll put it in the wheelbarrow.”
The soggy dog lay limp in their arms. They laid it on the dry towels. They placed the tarp over top. Kyle put his stick and his bag in the wheelbarrow. He helped push the heavy wheelbarrow across the soft, wet sand.
They carried the dripping dog into the house. They laid her beside the woodstove. Kyle got some fresh towels. He rubbed the dog all over. The dog coughed, and water trickled from her mouth. She shivered.
“I’m going to phone the vet,” Mom said.
Kyle sat close beside the dog. He stroked her head. “Please don’t die,” he whispered.
Mom returned. “The vet said to warm some towels in the dryer,” she said. Kyle helped wrap warm towels around the cold dog.
“She said to put a hot water bottle near her chest,” Mom said. So that’s what they did.
“You stay with the dog. I’m going to heat some milk.”
“Did the vet say that too?”
Mom nodded.
Mom brou
ght warm milk in a bowl. She put it near the dog’s nose. The dog half opened her eyes. Her pink tongue hung out, but she didn’t drink.
“I have an idea,” Kyle said. He went to the kitchen for the turkey baster. He dipped it into the warm milk. He pumped the bulb until milk rose into the tube. He dropped warm milk on the dog’s pink tongue. She licked.
Kyle dropped more milk onto her tongue. She licked some more. Then she lifted her head and lapped up all the milk. Her head flopped back down. She curled up in her warm towels. She lay close to the warm woodstove. Soon she fell asleep.
Kyle sat beside her and watched her breathe.
“I think she’ll be all right,” Mom said. “Shall we give her a name?”
Kyle nodded. “Let’s call her Treasure. She’s the best treasure we ever found.”
All that rainy morning Kyle sat beside Treasure. At lunchtime Mom reheated the pancakes. They ate every bite. Treasure drank some more warm milk.
After lunch Mom and Kyle went out. They needed to buy dog food and a dog dish. Treasure slept by the woodstove. When they came back, Treasure sat up and wagged her tail. “She’s happy to see us!” Kyle said.
He put dog food into the shiny new dish. Treasure gobbled it up. Then she curled up and went back to sleep.
“How come she sleeps so much?” Kyle asked. “She might be sick or she might be very old,” Mom said. “Or she might just be tired.”
“I think she’s tired,” Kyle said.
Treasure slept all afternoon and all night long.
Chapter Three
Early the next morning Kyle opened his eyes. Two brown eyes stared back at him. “Treasure!” he cried. “You’re better!”
Treasure licked Kyle’s nose. Her tongue felt warm and sticky.
Outside, sun sparkled on a rippled sea. “Let’s walk along the beach,” Kyle said after breakfast.
Kyle took his walking stick from the wheelbarrow. Treasure sat and barked at it. He gave the stick to Treasure and she ran away. She bounded into the water. Kyle ran to the water’s edge. By then Treasure was a long way from shore.
“Treasure!” he called. “Come back!”
A lone white boat sailed far out on the rippled sea. Treasure’s nose pointed toward it. But the boat sailed farther and farther away.
Kyle ran into the water. It was cold on his legs. “Treasure!” he called.
At last Treasure turned around and swam back. She still had the stick in her mouth.
After that Kyle hurried home from school every day. He always took Treasure for a walk along the beach. She always carried the same stick. She always went swimming. But she never swam so far from shore again.
Sometimes Kyle went out with his dad, but it wasn’t the same. When Kyle came home, he always felt sad. He always took Treasure for a walk on the beach. She helped him feel less lonely.
Spring came and the days grew longer. One warm sunny afternoon, Kyle took Treasure for a walk. For once she didn’t run into the water. Instead, she streaked along the beach. She still carried her stick in her mouth.
“Treasure, come back!” Kyle called. But the dog paid no attention.
She ran along the sandbar and Kyle ran after her. He saw Treasure leaping around a tall man. The man carried a pipe in his mouth. He had a big gray beard.
Treasure dropped her stick. She leaped up and down and quivered with excitement.
The man took his pipe from his mouth. He crouched down and put his arms around the dog. Treasure licked his face.
“By gum, it’s you, Otter! I can’t believe it! You ought-ter be drowned!”
The man looked at Kyle. There were tears in his eyes. “Thank you for finding my dog,” he said.
Chapter Four
Kyle looked at the man. He felt scared and angry. This man wanted to take Treasure away.
“Her name’s Treasure, not Otter! And she’s my dog, not yours!”
“Kyle!” his mom called. She ran toward them.
Kyle watched his mom and tried not to cry.
“Is there a problem here?” she asked.
“That man says Treasure is his dog!” Kyle pointed at the man.
“Hi,” the man said. He smiled. “I’m Bill. I’m so happy to see my dog again. She fell overboard in a big storm. I searched for a long, long time. Finally I gave up. I thought she had drowned.”
“She’s my Treasure!” Kyle shouted. “I found her on the beach. She was all wrapped up in seaweed.”
Bill smiled again. “That’s my Otter. She’s a great old sea dog.”
“She’s my dog!” Kyle shouted. “Here Treasure!” Treasure licked Kyle’s face.
Bill stopped smiling. “I’d say we have a problem here.”
“Please, come back to our house,” Mom said. “I’ll make coffee and we can talk.”
Kyle didn’t want to talk to Bill. Bill was not a nice man. He wanted to take Treasure away. Treasure picked up her stick. She walked between Kyle and Bill. Her tail wagged all the way back to the house.
Mom and Bill sat in the kitchen. Kyle took Treasure into his room. He packed some clothes in his schoolbag. “Shh!” he whispered. “We’re going to find my dad. He’ll let me keep you.”
They tiptoed to the front door. Bill’s voice drifted down the hall. Kyle heard two words, “Lady Tia.”
Treasure stopped. Her ears perked up. She turned and ran to the kitchen.
Bill laughed. “You love the Lady Tia, don’t you, Otter?”
Kyle moved close to the kitchen door. He waited for Treasure to come back.
Bill sighed. “My boat is for sale,” he said. “I didn’t feel like sailing after I lost Otter. I missed her too much.”
“Why did you name her Otter?” Mom asked.
Bill chuckled. “Because she swims like an otter. She’s the best sea dog that ever lived.”
“Tell us about her,” Mom said.
Kyle crept into the kitchen. He leaned on a wall and sank to the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest and stared straight ahead. He didn’t want to hear Bill’s story. But he couldn’t leave without Treasure.
Bill leaned back on his chair. He rubbed a hand over his big gray beard. Then he started to talk.
Chapter Five
First I will tell you about my daughter, Tia.
When Tia was seven, I bought a beautiful sailboat. I named it Lady Tia. When we were on the sailboat, Tia always called me Cap’n Bill. We were happy sailing together.
Year after year, Tia grew. She grew bigger and older. The time came when she needed to move far away.
Before she left, she came to say good-bye. We sat on the deck of Lady Tia.
“I have a special gift for you,” she said. In her arms was a tiny, wiggly, black bundle.
“What is it?” I asked.
“This is a very special puppy. She was born on a boat, and she loves the sea.”
Well, I didn’t want a puppy. But I didn’t want to disappoint Tia. She was trying to make things better for me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Good-bye, Cap’n Bill.” Tia gave me a big hug. “I’ll always miss sailing with you.” Then she went away.
The puppy wiggled in my arms. I almost dropped her overboard. So I took her down the ladder. I put her on a bunk inside the Lady Tia.
I climbed back up the ladder. I sat on deck and puffed on my pipe. The wind blew at my back. I smelled the crisp salty air. Outside the harbor, choppy waves called to me. Come sail with us! Come sail with us!
I didn’t want to hear.
Lady Tia was sparkly clean. Her sails were ready to raise. But I didn’t feel like sailing. “Well old girl,” I rubbed my hand along her shiny wood trim, “I reckon it’s time I sold you.”
Lady Tia shuddered in the wind. Her lines clattered fast and hard against the mast. Clang-clang-clang-clang. I always loved that sound. It made me want to untie Lady Tia. It made me long to sail a windswept sea.
I loved the creak and groan of the rigging.
I loved the
way Lady Tia sliced through the waves. She sailed faster than the wind blew.
I loved the soft cool touch of salt spray on my face.
But not that day. That day I sat on deck and puffed on my pipe. I listened to waves slap, slap, slapping against the clean white hull. I looked out the narrow gap that led to the sea. I saw green and white waves tumble and splash.
“It’s a perfect day to sail,” I said. But I didn’t get up. I didn’t untie the ropes that held Lady Tia fast.
Then something caught my eye. A black speck rose to the crest of a wave. It swam like an otter. Then it was gone.
I saw it again, on the next wave. “It’s too small for a seal,” I said, “but too black for an otter.” There was no one to hear me. Maybe I was talking to Lady Tia. Maybe I was talking to myself.
I put down my pipe. Green and white waves tumbled and splashed. The black speck was hard to find. It rose and fell with every wave. Wind and tide pushed it away. Soon I could barely see it.
Then I had a terrible thought. I leaped from my seat. I ran down the ladder. The puppy was not in the cabin. I ran back outside. I stepped to the dock.
“How did she get out there?” I untied the bow rope.
“She won’t last much longer.” I untied the stern rope.
“It’s all my fault.” I pushed the bow out from the dock.
“I need to save her.” I stepped on board.
Chapter Six
I pulled the line to raise the mainsail. That big white sail rose up, up. It rose to the top of the mast.
Wind filled the sail. It puffed out like a white balloon. Lady Tia leaped forward. She danced over the waves. Water gurgled behind her stern. A little trail of dimples followed behind us.
I set the sail and turned the tiller. Lady Tia turned her nose to the sea.
Lady Tia slipped through the gap into the open sea. Her bow dipped and rolled. Waves splashed over her side. I held the tiller steady and searched the choppy water. Waves broke into white foam. Chunks of driftwood bobbed up and down. Seaweed tangled together. But the little black speck was nowhere to be seen.