Mr Dog and the Seal Deal

by Ben Fogle

  Mr Dog stepped so close to her they were almost nose to nose. ‘Ditzy, do you know where that crate is now?’

  ‘In the water over there.’ Ditzy nodded to the side of the bank. ‘The crate’s broken open – so all the nasty plastic stuff inside is getting out!’

  Chapter Seven

  DELIGHT AND DANGER

  ‘Well, well,’ said Mr Dog as Lulu caught them up and came swimming over. ‘Finally we know where the plastic’s been coming from.’ He could see now that the clearing wasn’t natural: the trees had been broken down instead of having fallen, and the ground around was scarred and flattened. ‘When the train went off the rails, one of the crates must have fallen into the water and sunk out of sight.’

  ‘So it was never found,’ Ditzy agreed.

  Mr Dog waded into the water and checked out the crate. It was a plastic box as big as a freezer, white and dented with its hinged lid twisted half off. A length of red netting trailed lazily from one sharp corner.

  Lulu dipped beneath the water to study it, then bobbed back up. ‘Each time there’s a flood, more stuff inside is washed out …’ She waggled her poorly flipper. ‘And more animals get hurt.’

  Mr Dog nodded sadly. He remembered the deer and the duck. He never wanted to see another creature have to suffer that way. ‘There’s more of that nasty red netting caught round the lid,’ he observed. ‘It must have come from inside the crate.’

  ‘Oh, no, no, no, it didn’t. I can show you just where that particular net came from – and how it got there.’ Ditzy had a sly smile on her face again. ‘You won’t believe what I’m going to show you, Lu. Come on – upriver we go!’

  Mr Dog’s bushy brows knitted together. Whatever can she mean? With a wait-for-me! woof, he ran after Ditzy and Lulu as they swam along the river. But his paws felt heavier now he knew about the crate and how much more rubbish was inside it. If only we could show someone it’s there! he thought. He hated having to leave the rotten thing to poison the landscape further. But he also knew that the seals might be in danger, so he couldn’t leave them alone either.

  Finally, after what felt like hours, Mr Dog came to a place where the river slowly widened as it wound through the countryside, and signs that read PRIVATE PROPERTY and KEEP OUT began to sprout like ugly flowers.

  Mr Dog ignored them and went on through. ‘They can’t expect a dog to read,’ he said cheerily.

  The ground was waterlogged, and gleaming pools lay either side of the now familiar railway tracks. Soon Mr Dog could see a large metal framework as long as several buses standing in the water on the far side of the river, covered in netting.

  ‘Yum!’ Ditzy swam round in a little excited circle. ‘Yum, yum, YUM!’

  Lulu was sniffing the air. ‘What is that marvellous smell?’

  ‘It’s a fish farm!’ Ditzy bobbed about in the water and turned a sealy somersault. ‘You see? Succulent salmon. Thousands of them! Salmon as far as the eye can see and the nose can smell. Here you’ll find salmon that are kept behind nets so they can’t get out. All we have to do is get through the nets, swim in after them, and help ourselves. Chomp, chomp, CHOMPITY-CHOMP!’

  ‘What?’ Mr Dog’s shaggy eyebrows shot upwards. ‘No wonder the humans are upset,’ he said. ‘It’s one thing to take fish that are swimming free in the river, but these fish belong to the farmers.’

  ‘Do they?’ Ditzy looked puzzled. ‘Still, they won’t mind me taking a few, surely?’ Ditzy turned to Lulu. ‘It’s wonderful, Lu – you just push your snout in through the net and nibble!’

  ‘As easy as that?’ Lulu marvelled. ‘No wonder you’ve stayed here so long.’

  Ditzy nodded. ‘The nets they use aren’t all that strong, but they do have more than one layer. I’ve had to tear quite a few nets away to get to the fish inside.’ She swam to some nearby reeds where some netting had snagged. ‘This is the stuff they use. See, that’s what got caught on the lid of the crate – it must have been washed away from here downriver …’

  Mr Dog stared at the distinctive red mesh. ‘Lulu, do you recognise that netting?’

  Lulu quivered. ‘I do – and I still have the injuries to prove it. Oh, Ditzy – it was your fault I got stuck.’

  Ditzy looked shaken. ‘Mine?’

  ‘Another one of these nets was washed downriver and I got tangled in it,’ Lulu went on. ‘I might’ve died if Mr Dog hadn’t helped me.’

  ‘Really? I’m so sorry. SO sorry.’ Ditzy looked crestfallen, then brightened. ‘Hey, let me get you some salmon to cheer you up!’

  ‘Oh, Ditzy.’ Mr Dog sighed. ‘You’ve got so greedy for fish that you haven’t stopped to think of the effect you’re having on others.’

  ‘It was only a few nets I tore free,’ Ditzy argued. ‘Humans cause most of the pollution here.’

  ‘But we all have to live together as best we can,’ said Mr Dog firmly. ‘You’ve been too clever at stealing fish. It costs the farm owners money. They’ve tried to keep you out, but it hasn’t worked so now they want to put a stop to the stealing for good – by putting a stop to you!’

  ‘The hunters,’ Lulu breathed. ‘So that’s why they’re after us seals.’

  She looked at Ditzy. Ditzy looked back at Lulu. Both seals lowered their heads.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lu,’ said Ditzy at last. ‘I thought it was seal paradise here. I didn’t mean to cause so many problems – or to hurt you.’

  ‘I know you didn’t,’ Lulu said fondly. ‘You’re a friend. A mate. I’ve missed you.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ said Ditzy.

  ‘But the hunters won’t miss either of you!’ Mr Dog woofed, and his fur stood on end as a man with a rifle emerged from the bushes on the far side of the bank near the farming nets.

  The man froze as he saw them. ‘Two of you!’ he declared. Then, carefully, he got into a nearby rowing boat.

  ‘Hurry, we must get out of here,’ Mr Dog hissed. But, as he turned to race back the way he’d come, he saw Alana the angler and another man heading towards them. The man was carrying a gun too.

  ‘Oh no!’ Lulu squealed. ‘We’re trapped!’

  Chapter Eight

  A DANGEROUS JOURNEY

  As the people came closer, Mr Dog’s mind was racing. ‘Get up on the bank, you two,’ he told the seals. ‘Keep your heads down and follow me over the ground as fast as you can.’

  Ditzy and Lulu hauled themselves out of the water and went galumphing after him at top speed. They would have looked comical, bouncing along like giant sausages, had the situation not been so dangerous.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Lulu panted.

  ‘Look – all that rain has made a big pond on the far side of the railway tracks,’ Mr Dog explained. ‘You two can hide in there while I try to lead the hunters away.’

  ‘It’s us they want,’ said Ditzy. ‘They won’t shoot a dog. You could get away.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Mr Dog told her. ‘I will do all I can to help you.’

  ‘Why?’ Ditzy asked.

  ‘Because there’s no “DON’T” in “DOG” – only “DO”.’ Mr Dog gave a doggy grin. ‘And I DO believe there’s a way out of this – if we keep our heads about us.’

  The man in the boat had rowed to their side of the river. A gunshot cracked out.

  ‘Eeek!’ Lulu tried to hurry, her poorly flipper dragging behind her. ‘I’d definitely like to keep my head if at all possible!’

  Mr Dog crossed over the railway tracks. He squelched through the waterlogged grass to the new pond, and the seals did the same.

  ‘In you go,’ he urged.

  Ditzy slithered in, but Lulu was exhausted. She had stopped for breath. Mr Dog barked furiously as Alana’s friend and the man from the boat came striding towards the tracks, raising their guns …

  Then, with a piercing whistle and a pounding of steel wheels, another goods train came thundering along – creating a heavy metal barrier between the hunters and the animals.

  Mr Dog got behind Lulu and pushe
d her with both paws. She slid down over the wet grass and hit the water with a splash.

  ‘Quickly!’ said Ditzy, flippers flapping excitedly as the train rumbled along. ‘I’ve explored. It’s just a short hop from this pond into a ditch that leads back into the river.’

  ‘That means we can double back behind the hunters,’ Mr Dog realised. ‘Good work, Ditzy. Come on!’

  Mr Dog jumped into the water and did his best doggy-paddle alongside Lulu, keeping an eye on the tired seal as Ditzy led the way.

  Ditzy rippled her body, sprang out of the pond and into the wet grassy ditch.

  She slid on her belly, back into the river like a tubby torpedo.

  ‘Wheeeeee!’

  Mr Dog let Lulu go first. Keeping low, he doggy-paddled after the seals into the reeds and rushes that fringed the river.

  Together, the three animals swam downstream as quickly as they could; Ditzy kept swimming round behind Lulu and Mr Dog to chivvy them along.

  It was hard work swimming so fast, especially for Mr Dog. ‘I’m sorry,’ he puffed. ‘I need to rest.’ He climbed up on to the riverbank and shook himself.

  The sun was out, and he was grateful for its warmth as he lay on his side.

  ‘That was close,’ said Ditzy. ‘Back in the harbour, people only took shots with their cameras!’ She sighed. ‘I’ve been a bad seal, haven’t I?’

  ‘You were only following your instincts,’ said Mr Dog kindly. ‘Seals will always want to eat fish. The farmers could make their nets stronger or their noisy machines better … but I’m afraid it’s cheaper to deal with the seals.’

  Lulu looked at Ditzy. ‘I think it’s time we returned to the sea.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Ditzy with feeling. ‘But what if there are more hunters coming?’

  Mr Dog nodded. ‘Alana and her hunter friends will catch us up for sure if we don’t press on.’

  ‘This is scary.’ Lulu’s eyes grew wider. ‘Frightening. Petrifying!’

  ‘I suggest we move on in stages.’ Mr Dog got up and stretched. ‘I’ll go as far as the next bend by myself, check the way is clear – if it is, then I’ll howl for you to join me.’

  ‘We’ll listen out,’ said Lulu.

  Ditzy bobbed and nodded in the water. ‘Thank you, Mr Dog.’ Then, with Lulu, she ducked out of sight.

  Mr Dog ached from so much running and swimming, but, true to his woof, he scouted ahead at a fast trot, then howled to let the seals know it was safe to swim on. It was a long, exhausting afternoon. When another train went hurrying by, Mr Dog wished that he and the seals could jump on board for a free ride!

  Evening was just beginning to steal the glow from the sky when Mr Dog met Ditzy and Lulu in the clearing where the train had gone off the rails. Mr Dog could see the net from the fish farm still trailing in the water, marking the spot where the crate lay submerged. If only he could do something about it!

  ‘Please, Mr Dog, won’t you rest?’ said Lulu.

  ‘I’m all right.’ Mr Dog flopped down and yawned. ‘I’m very fond of exercise.’

  ‘I caught you a fish,’ said Ditzy. ‘I really wanted to eat it myself, but …’

  ‘But it’s good to think of others,’ said Lulu with a nudge. ‘Right, Ditzy?’

  ‘Er, yes.’ With a flick of her head, she tossed bits of fish up on to the bank. ‘So I’d like you to have it.’

  ‘That’s kind, Ditzy. Thank you.’ Though he was tired, Mr Dog gobbled down the fish with gusto. ‘Now, I’d best check the way ahead again. You two stay here …’ He walked on for thirty minutes or more, wishing his woofiest that there’d be no one in his way.

  It was a wish that did not come true.

  Round one corner, two people were crouched in the reeds beside the river. The evening sun glinted on the barrel of a rifle.

  Mr Dog’s blood ran cold. ‘Hunters,’ he growled. ‘Hiding in the rushes … ready to set a trap!’

  Chapter Nine

  THE LAST HOPE

  Keeping low on his belly, Mr Dog scuttled closer to the hunters, hoping to find out just what they were up to.

  He heard one of the men speak: ‘Poor little thing. Wonder how long it’s been stuck in there.’

  ‘Be careful not to hurt it,’ said his friend. ‘There’s a split in the neck of the bottle. Try to open it up a bit …’

  Mr Dog frowned. What on earth were these people up to? He crept closer and saw the men were gathered round a plastic juice bottle. A small animal – a vole or a mouse – had crawled inside and got stuck. There was no room for it to turn round. One of the men was carefully widening the split in the bottle, trying to let the animal out.

  ‘There’s so much pollution in this river.’ The man with the rifle shook his head sadly. ‘You know I’d rather be doing something about it than having to stop a hungry seal …’

  It’s not too late, old chap, thought Mr Dog as an idea struck him. Perhaps – just perhaps – there’s a way to make everyone happy!

  Carefully, he backed away through the long grass. The men would be busy for a little while – would he have long enough to carry out his plan? With alarm, he heard the put-put-put of an outboard engine and turned to find a small boat in the distance, heading upriver towards the men in the reeds. There was a lantern on its prow. Was the boat carrying tourists on an evening jaunt, or were others coming to join the seal hunt …?

  ‘There’s not a moment to lose,’ Mr Dog declared. Abandoning stealth, he darted off like a racehorse, scattering flies and dandelions as he covered the ground back to the clearing and the sunken crate.

  ‘Ditzy! Lulu!’ he woofed. ‘Are you there?’

  Lulu’s head emerged from the water like a periscope. ‘Is it safe?’ she asked as Ditzy came up beside her.

  ‘It won’t be safe for long,’ Mr Dog admitted. ‘There are more hunters and a motorboat coming this way.’

  Lulu gasped. ‘And Alana and her two friends must still be after us from the other direction.’

  ‘There’s no way out,’ said Ditzy sadly.

  ‘There might be – if we can provide the right sort of distraction,’ said Mr Dog. ‘The hunters ahead of us were helping a vole trapped in a plastic bottle. I heard them say they want to do something about pollution in the river.’

  ‘Don’t we all,’ said Lulu.

  ‘So let’s give them the chance.’ Mr Dog ran down the bank to the water. ‘That crate full of plastic packaging – what if we could show them it’s here, and that it’s leaking?’

  Understanding dawned in Ditzy’s dark eyes. ‘You think the people would stop hunting us while they cleared up the mess?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Mr Dog declared. ‘They care about this river and the fish in it, and the other animals affected. I think that they’ll get to work at once. And, while they’re busy cleaning up the river, you seals can escape in the confusion.’ He panted happily. ‘It’s a win-win situation!’

  ‘But it’ll be a bang-bang situation if we can’t move that crate out of the water,’ said Lulu. ‘You know it’s quite big and rather heavy …’

  ‘So am I!’ Ditzy boomed. ‘Come on, Lu, let’s try to push it.’

  The two seals plopped into the river and Mr Dog dived after them. He tried to stand beside the crate on the riverbed and push with his front paws, but it was tricky – the seals were built to stay underwater and he was not.

  Spluttering and gasping, Mr Dog returned to the surface. ‘I’ll just have to keep watch,’ he decided.

  Minutes passed and the seals pushed and pulled and shoved at the crate. Mr Dog could see their shadows shifting beneath the water. The crate rocked back and forth but couldn’t be budged.

  Further down the river, the motorboat chugged slowly into sight.

  ‘Ditzy, Lulu!’ Mr Dog barked wildly. ‘We don’t have much time!’

  ‘It’s no good!’ Lulu burst from the water, whiskers quivering. ‘We can’t move it.’

  ‘It’s stuck in the mud,’ Ditzy added.

  Mr Dog growled t
o see distant torchlights bobbing along the riverbank to his left – the men must have rescued the vole and were now continuing the hunt for Ditzy and Lulu. Then he saw torchlight to his right as well!

  ‘We’ve got nowhere to go!’ Lulu groaned. ‘Our fate is sealed!’

  ‘We’ll have to swim for it, Lu,’ said Ditzy. ‘If we dive down, perhaps we can give them the slip.’

  ‘They’ll keep on coming,’ said Lulu. ‘We’ve been lucky so far, but the net is closing round us …’

  ‘The net!’ Mr Dog almost howled. ‘Of course – the netting that’s snagged on the crate’s lid. Is it caught there good and tight?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lulu. ‘But how does that help us?’

  ‘We can’t move the crate,’ said Mr Dog, ‘but maybe we can lift its lid.’

  ‘I see what you mean,’ said Ditzy slowly. ‘If we swing the lid open, it will stick out from the water …’

  ‘And the hunters will know the crate’s there without us having to move it!’ Lulu finished.

  ‘Precisely!’ Mr Dog’s tail wagged as hard as it would go. ‘Ditzy, Lulu, you must each take an end of the net and wrap it round the edge of the lid. Then we can all pull up on it as hard as we can to lift it open. Quickly – before it’s too late!’

  Chapter Ten

  SEALING THE DEAL

  Mr Dog watched as the seals dipped beneath the water. The boat was chugging towards them now, as if drawn by the movement. The hunters, too, were quickening their step.

  Ditzy and Lulu reappeared with one end of the net in their powerful jaws and clambered up on to the bank. ‘The net is in position,’ Lulu reported.