by Holly Webb
“Yes…” Jack said, a little doubtfully.
“She’s a puppy. Really little and so sweet. She’s white and a bit fluffy – she’s probably got some Maltese in her, Lucy thinks.” Lucy was the manager at the shelter. “I named her.” Mattie smiled, but then her smile faded. “She’s called Daisy.”
“Why are you sad, if she’s so sweet?” Jack asked, hugging himself tightly. He almost wished he hadn’t let Mattie start telling him.
“Lucy says she’s not sure we’ll ever be able to rehome her.”
“Why? What’s the matter with her?” Jack frowned. Mattie was always telling him how the shelter staff were desperate to find good homes for all the animals. She really wanted them to adopt a dog, but Mum wasn’t sure, with everyone in the family so busy with work and school. She didn’t think they’d be able to look after a dog very well. Jack thought they’d be fine – every time he went to the shelter with Mattie he fell in love with a different dog, but they hadn’t managed to persuade Mum yet.
“She’s so nervous and miserable,” Mattie explained. “She won’t go to anyone and she hides whenever we bring her food or we come to clean out her pen. She doesn’t trust people and she seems to hate being touched. I suppose someone was horrible to her. We get nervous dogs all the time – and dogs that are upset because their owners have died – and they hate being in the shelter. But usually they start to get a bit friendlier after a while. That’s not happening with Daisy. She’s been at the shelter a week and she still won’t let any of us come near her. She’s such a little dog – only a baby! It’s not fair!”
“Oh…” Jack leaned against Mattie’s shoulder. “That’s really sad.”
“I wish I could help her,” Mattie murmured. “But I just don’t know how.”
Mattie was picking Jack up from school the next day – Amarah had art club and Mum was working – so she took him with her to the shelter. Jack helped out, filling up food bowls in the kitchen, and then he went for a wander around. He knew all the staff and most of the volunteers by now and no one minded him being there as long as he didn’t upset any of the animals.
He tried to make a fuss of a couple of cats, but they were dozing and only peered sleepily at him when he crouched down outside their pens. There was a whole litter of black and white kittens, though, who were more interesting. Jack watched them for a while, laughing as they stalked each other’s tails across the pen and then collapsed and fell asleep in a furry bundle on the floor.
After that, he went to visit the dogs. He’d seen most of them before. There were a couple of elderly dogs that nobody seemed to want to adopt – they’d been at the shelter for months. Jack’s favourite was a wheezy, fawn-coloured pug. No one had been feeling very imaginative the day he was brought in, so he was just called Pug. He met Jack with excited squeaky barks and Jack sat down on the floor by his pen and stroked him through the wire.
Pug stood there with his eyes closed and his curled tail whirring while Jack scratched his ears and under his chin.
“Five more minutes, OK?” Mattie said, hurrying past. “Just got to help Lucy finish feeding everybody.”
“OK,” said Jack, then he had a thought. “Hey, Mattie!”
She turned round, walking backwards with her arms full of food bowls. “What?”
“Which pen is the new puppy in?”
Mattie stopped. “Daisy?”
Jack nodded. “I just wanted to see her…” he murmured. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the little white puppy, since Mattie had told him how unhappy she was.
“She’s not any better, Jack. Lucy told me. You’ll just be upset seeing her.”
“I don’t care,” Jack said stubbornly. “If you didn’t want me knowing about her, why did you tell me?”
Mattie sighed. “I shouldn’t have done. OK… She’s in the pen at the end. It’s the quietest one. She doesn’t seem to like the other dogs barking. I’m about to go and put her food bowl in, actually. You can come with me. Just … just don’t scare her, all right?”
“Of course I won’t!” Jack said indignantly. But then he nodded. “I promise I won’t, Mattie. I only want to see her.”
“You’ll be lucky if you do,” Mattie said over her shoulder as she went on down the passage. “When I went past earlier, she was hiding underneath her bed.”
Jack made one last fuss of Pug and then got up to follow her. All the dogs knew it was time for their dinner and they were watching excitedly as Mattie came along with the bowls. She slipped into the pens, talking lovingly to each of the dogs as she gave them their food. Mostly they tried to eat it before she had even put the bowl down. But when they got to the pen at the end, as far as Jack could see, it was empty. Then he remembered what Mattie had said about the puppy being under her bed. It did look a bit lumpy in the middle. Was there really a puppy there, too scared to come out?
Mattie quietly opened the pen and put down the bowl. Then she came out again, looking worried. “We’ll wait here for a bit,” she said to Jack, beckoning him to come a little further down the passage, where they could just about see Daisy’s pen. “I want to make sure she’s OK. And check she’s actually eating her dinner.”
Jack nodded and they both stood there, craning their necks sideways. After a minute or two, the dog bed shifted a little and a whiskery white face appeared. Daisy looked around cautiously for a moment or two and then pattered across the pen to her bowl. But she kept darting anxious glances at the passage, as if she thought something scary was about to happen.
“She’s so small!” Jack breathed in Mattie’s ear.
“I know. She’s probably about eight weeks. That’s only just old enough to leave her mum. Isn’t she sweet? She’d be adopted straightaway if she wasn’t so timid.”
Jack’s stomach seemed to turn over inside him. Mattie had said that the puppy had been dumped by the side of the road. He couldn’t imagine who would do that to such a tiny dog. Looking at her now, shivering as she tried to eat, he decided he’d do anything, anything to make her better.
Daisy was almost sure that someone was watching her eat. She could smell people – or thought she could. The smells here were all so strange and strong. The sharp scent of the spray the staff used to clean the pens seemed to sting her nose.
Whoever it was didn’t come any closer, though, so she kept bolting down the food. The faster she ate, the faster she could hide herself away again. She didn’t want anyone to notice her. It was safe there, tucked under her bed in the warm and the dark. It reminded her of being snuggled up with her mother. And even though the hard floor of the pen made her bruised paw hurt, it was definitely better being under the bed than in it.
She licked quickly round the bowl and darted away, burrowing back underneath the squashy bed. Then she lay there, listening, tense all over, until she heard the footsteps going away.
Jack had only seen Daisy for a couple of minutes, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was tiny, and white all over, with soft ears and a stubby, scruffy little tail. Mattie said that breakfast and dinner were the only times they really saw her – two minutes of desperate gobbling, before she scurried back to hide under her bed.
“Lucy and Adrian have both spent as much time with her as they can,” she’d explained to Jack. Adrian was the other full-time member of staff at the shelter. “Lucy goes in and just sits in the pen for ages. She’s hoping that Daisy will get used to her being there and come out. Though she hasn’t so far. But they’re so busy – the shelter’s full again. Any time they spend coaxing Daisy to be friendly is time they have to take away from the other dogs and cats.”
It didn’t seem fair to Jack that Daisy needed help and everyone was too busy to give it to her. He wished he could help. But he wasn’t old enough to be an official volunteer at the shelter. He didn’t know anything about helping a dog like Daisy either. He’d probably get it all wrong. But he definitely wanted to see her again – even if all he saw was a little hump under her bed.
/> So the next day, instead of going home with Amarah and her mum and Anika, he persuaded Mattie to come and pick him up. He told Amarah why on the way to school that morning – he didn’t want her to think he was abandoning her. Once he had told her about Daisy, though, she was all for it.
“Can you take a picture of her?” she asked. “Mattie could take one on her phone, couldn’t she?”
“Maybe while she’s eating,” Jack said. “Otherwise it’ll be a photo of a dog bed.”
“That’s so sad. I wish I could come with you. I want to go to the shelter anyway. Maybe we could persuade my mum and dad to get a cat.”
“I could ask Mattie to take you with us one day?” Jack suggested.
Amarah nodded. Then she looked at Jack, chewing her lip as though she wasn’t sure what to say. “Did you finish that book?”
“Almost…” Jack muttered. Mr Gardner had checked on their reading diaries the day before, and he’d done his I’m very disappointed face when he realized Jack was still in the middle of the book about the golden retriever.
“Mr Gardner said to do it last night!”
“Yeah, but I was at the shelter with Mattie.” Jack shrugged. “I bet he didn’t think I would anyway. He knows I’m useless at reading.”
Amarah eyed him doubtfully. “He sounded like he meant it to me. I hope you don’t get told off again.”
Jack looked worried for a moment and then he grinned at Amarah. “I won’t. We’ve got that history day, remember? There are people coming in to do a workshop. I’ll finish the reading tonight. No problem.”
“You’d better,” Amarah said seriously. “I like our table the way it is – if you keep getting in trouble we’ll all be moved round again and I’ll end up sitting next to Lola or somebody else mean.”
“All right, I will, I promise!” Jack sighed. “You’re worse than Mr Gardner.”
“Do you want to help with getting the food ready again?” Mattie suggested.
“Definitely.” Jack nodded. The more he did to help out, the more time Mattie and the others would have to spend with the animals. It was called socializing. Jack hadn’t really got it when Mattie had explained it to him before, but now he saw how much love and attention Daisy needed.
He measured out the food for Mattie while she ferried the bowls to the pens. They’d finished getting all the dogs’ dinners ready when Mattie suddenly stopped, frowning at him. “Hang on. I’ve just remembered. Haven’t you got homework to do? Amarah said I had to make sure you finished your book.”
“I can do it later!” Jack protested.
“Uh-uh. We’ll get home, you’ll have dinner, you’ll be really tired – you won’t have time to finish it. Just go and sit in the visitors’ room now.”
Jack glared at her, but then he gave a massive huffy sigh and went to get his backpack. Mattie was right, though. And so was Amarah – he didn’t want Mr Gardner moving them around in class either.
He was searching through his backpack for the reading book when it struck him – he had to do the reading, but it didn’t matter where he did it. Mattie had said that Lucy went and sat in Daisy’s pen to try and get her used to people. He couldn’t do that – Lucy would definitely say no, in case Daisy got really scared and nipped him – but he could sit just outside her pen, couldn’t he? That would be almost as good. He could sit still and not scare her, and even though he had to sound out a lot of the words he could do it quietly.
Jack hurried down the passage to the pen at the end and sat down, leaning against the wall. The floor was a bit hard, but it wasn’t too bad. Besides, Daisy was lying on that hard floor all day.
“Hey, Daisy,” he whispered. He could just about see the end of her tail sticking out from under the dog bed. “Are you OK? I’ve got to finish this reading homework, so I thought I’d do it with you.” He looked at the bump under the bed for a moment – almost as though he thought she might answer him. Then he shook his head and opened up the book, flicking through the pages to the right place. He was a long way from the end.
“OK. So. Page forty-six. ‘Benny … pushed the gate shut with his nose…’” Jack read on, slowly sounding out the hardest words.
He wasn’t sure if Mr Gardner would think reading to a dog counted as reading with an adult – especially since Daisy was only a puppy and she wasn’t actually listening – but Jack liked it more than reading to Mum or Mattie. He knew Daisy was there, so it still felt like he was reading to someone, but she didn’t mind if he got the words wrong or took ages to work them out.
Mattie fidgeted when he read to her. He was pretty sure she didn’t know she was doing it, but she always fiddled with the hem of her sweater or jiggled her feet around like she was bored. Mum sat still, but she tried to help too much. She was always telling him not to worry, when he wasn’t – she was the one who was worrying.
He got to the end of the page and stopped for a rest, stretching out his shoulders. He’d been hunching forward, peering at the book. Then he froze. There had been a flash of white inside the pen. He was sure of it.
Had Daisy moved?
There was no sign of her now – except for that little wisp of white tail sticking out.
Slowly, Jack started to read again. He kept his face down towards the book, but every so often he rolled his eyes sideways to look into the pen. He was about halfway down the next page – and how had that happened? It felt like the fastest he’d ever managed to read anything – when a black nose appeared from under the dog bed and the stub of tail disappeared. Daisy was wriggling forward. She was listening!
Jack went on. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell Mr Gardner what happened on any of those pages, he was too busy keeping an eye on Daisy, but he was reading. And he liked that he was reading about a dog to a dog.
After a few more sentences, the rest of Daisy’s muzzle edged out from under the bed and he could just see her dark eyes glinting at him from under the fabric.
“Oh…” he murmured a couple of minutes later. “Only one more chapter to go. Do you like this story?” He peered at Daisy again and went on talking quietly. There was more of her sticking out now. He could see her collar, and her front paws were showing too, one on each side of her nose. Jack flicked the pages over. The last chapter was short, only a couple of pages. He could do that. Definitely.
By the time he’d got to the very end of the book, Daisy was still lying on the floor, but only half of her was under her bed. She lay watching Jack with her nose on her crossed front paws and she really seemed to be listening. As if she was actually enjoying listening to him read. Jack couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
Daisy could hear someone talking outside her pen. It was a quiet voice, speaking rather slowly. Some of the people here had tried to talk to her before – they’d sat in her pen and tried to coax her to come out and see them. She never did. She came out for food and ate it as fast as she could, but that was all. Once the lights were off and the staff had left, she crept out and snuggled on top of her bed. But at the slightest noise – another dog barking or even just shifting in its sleep – she would be straight back underneath.
Whoever was talking now hadn’t tried to come in to her space. She liked that. They stopped every now and then, the sounds stumbling out. It made the noise seem gentle and she liked that too. It was hard to hear, though, underneath her bed.
Very slowly, she edged forward so that her nose stuck out. The boy’s reading was clearer now, but then he stopped talking and she whisked back to the safe darkness under the bed. Slowly, quietly, he started again and Daisy wriggled out, centimetre by centimetre.
Apart from the quiet, halting voice, the dog section of the shelter was almost silent. No one was barking. Daisy let her ears flop down and she rested her muzzle gently on her paws. The fear that had been building up inside her for days eased, just a little, and her eyes half closed as Jack went on.
Jack didn’t tell Mattie what had happened – he still wasn’t sure he believed it
anyway. It could just have been a coincidence that Daisy happened to decide to come out of her hiding place just then. But he really, really hoped not. If it was actually him helping, he had to go there again. Mattie wasn’t going to be at the shelter for the next couple of days – she had shifts at the supermarket – but she always fitted in helping at the weekend. And he was going to go with her.
“Are you sure?” Mattie eyed him sleepily at breakfast on Saturday morning. “You know I’m going now – before I have to go to work? As in, you’d better be dressed in three minutes if you really want to come?”
Jack didn’t need to think about it. He dashed upstairs and threw on some clothes. He was back in the kitchen before Mattie had got halfway through her cereal.
“Is that OK, Mattie?” Mum asked, stirring her tea. “Jack won’t be in your way?”
“I’m helpful!” Jack pointed out, feeling annoyed. “I put the food out for the dogs, and on Wednesday…” He trailed off. He’d forgotten he wasn’t going to tell anyone about Daisy.
“On Wednesday what?” Mum asked.
“On Wednesday I did my homework at the shelter and I finished my reading book,” Jack went on hurriedly.
“Oh, Jack, that’s brilliant!” His mum shook her head. “Why didn’t you say?”
“I’ve got another one.” Jack sighed. “It’s a non-fiction book about sharks. But it looks OK, I suppose.”
He stuck the book in the pocket of his anorak when he set off with Mattie. He wanted to see if Daisy would listen to him reading again. If she came out from under the basket today, it would be like a scientific experiment, where you did the same thing again to make sure you got the same results twice.