by Jill Harris
Harriet pulled out a plastic bag of Lego pieces. She tipped them out and ran her hands through them. That was one of the earliest things she could remember – that clicking noise when Toby was making something. She put them back in the bag and pushed everything into her school back pack.
“Just going to see Max,” she called to her parents and ran down the path before they could stop her.
She walked along, keeping a look-out for the right thing. Too thick, she thought – the wrong colour – I can’t reach those. At last she found what she wanted – yellow like the shorts he wore, easy to pick and enough to make a small bunch.
Max was in his kennel. He came out to welcome her, tail wagging and ears pricked.
“I’ve got something very important to do,” Harriet told him. “I need you to sit next to me and bark when I say so.” She opened her pack and pulled out the jersey. She buried her face in it – it smelt like Toby. She scratched at some dried mud with her fingernail until it flaked off. Then she pulled the jersey over her head and shoulders. It was much too big for her, but it felt as though she was sitting next to Toby. Her nose and eyes felt runny. She sniffed and blinked hard.
Max sat watching her closely. The air around them was dense with a powerful scent and a strange feeling. He noticed Harriet’s hands were trembling as she laid out the yellow flowers on the tiles. There’s something wrong, he thought. I wish Gus were here. He gave a short bark: “Hey, Gus, I need you!”
“No, not yet,” said Harriet. “I’ll tell you when.”
Then she tipped the Lego pieces on to the tiles and arranged them into patterns. “Toby, are you there?” she murmured. “Toby, I want you to come back. Please.” She started to rock backwards and forwards, her arms wrapped around herself. She raised her voice: “Toby, you have to come back!”
Max moved closer. He wished Gus would hurry up. This was too hard for him. He whined. Then, to his relief, Gus pushed through into the garden.
“You have to help me. Now!” said Harriet loudly to Max.
“She’s talking to someone who’s not here,” Max told Gus quietly.
“That’s not loud enough, you have to bark louder,” urged Harriet.
Gus sat down on the other side of Harriet. He whined. He pushed his nose into her hands and licked her. Gradually the rocking slowed down and stopped. Harriet flung her arms round him and buried her face in his black fur. He felt her hot tears.
The three of them sat in silence, Harriet with her arms over each dog.
“You see, it’s like this,” she said. “Toby is my big brother. He went away six months ago after he got very sick. My father and mother said he died, but I saw him in the hospital and he was just asleep. He will come back. I hoped he might come back today. I thought maybe Max could bark loudly enough for him to hear, but it hasn’t worked. The trouble is, my mother cleared out his room and there’s no bed or clothes for him when he does come back.”
She stood up. “I have to go now.” She scooped up the Lego, pulled off the jersey and stuffed everything into her pack. Harriet laid the flowers on the doorstep. She solemnly kissed Gus and Max on their foreheads. “You’re like Toby used to be,” she said. “You’re good at just being there.”
They watched her walk to the gate.
Max lifted his head and howled. A quietness fell on the neighbourhood.
“So that’s it,” said Gus. “I knew there was something. Poor Harriet.” He pushed himself stiffly to his feet. “Takes it out of you, this kind of thing.”
“Thank you for coming,” said Max. “I didn’t know what to do.” He stretched out and licked Gus’s face.
“Better do something about that collar,” said Gus gruffly. “The sun’s gone down and they’ll be home soon.”
Max got busy on his collar. He thought about Harriet. She obviously expected Toby to come back, so where had he gone? And why didn’t she just visit him?
But Harriet’s parents had told her Toby was dead. Max knew about dead – he’d seen a dog run over once. Dead meant you didn’t move any more, and you were cold. You had a different sort of smell. It wasn’t the same as being asleep. Surely Harriet would know that? Could you come alive again? Is that what Harriet thought had happened to Toby? Or did she have a day time dream about that – like his day time dream of having a straight tail? He knew dreams weren’t real, but did Harriet? When he had dreams like that, he laughed at himself. But Harriet wasn’t laughing – she was terribly serious about it; it made her cry. Max’s eyes watered just remembering.
It was puzzling. He would have to talk to Gus about it – he’d know the answers. Meanwhile, thought Max, he would go on being Harriet’s friend. He knew she liked being with him and Gus, and perhaps it helped her not to miss Toby so much. You could get used to somebody not being there, as he’d discovered when he’d been taken away from his mother – just as long as there was someone else to help you along. Gus had done it for him; he would do it for Harriet.
Cautious Approach
They had two problems now: Brutus and Girl (the name they’d given to the brown and white dog). When they’d gone to visit Brutus the day after his attack on Girl, he wasn’t there. Calls came in reporting sightings of him around the neighbourhood, though he seemed to be keeping out of further trouble.
“I’m worried about Brutus being next door to Harriet,” said Max.
“We can visit him any number of times,” said Gus, “we can continue the play-fighting and keep him company. But once a dog’s got a taste for roaming and mischief, it takes a human to bring him under control. Until his owner does that, his best hope is being picked up by the dog catcher.”
Max looked horrified. “You wouldn’t wish that on any dog, would you, Gus?”
Gus sighed. “There are worse things,” he said.
“We couldn’t have left him as he was.”
“Girl’s silence is just as tricky,” said Max. “She’s been in the shed for three days now. Surely she knows she can trust us.”
“She’ll talk when she’s ready,” said Gus. “Don’t forget her throat’s been sore.”
“Some pretty bad things must’ve happened to her.”
“Yes. You don’t get that jittery for nothing,” replied Gus. “Every new noise, she nearly jumps out of her skin. I wish we could fix her paw. Whatever’s in there is too difficult to get out. We need a human’s hands.”
They both had the same thought and spoke together:
“Hey, what about …” said Max with excitement.
“Harriet could help us!” exclaimed Gus.
“We’d have to show her the hiding place.”
“Then she’d know about Girl.”
“She hasn’t given us away so far,” said Gus. “I think she realises what we do around the neighbourhood.”
“How can we smuggle her into your place without being seen?” asked Max. “We’d have to show her the hole behind the hydrangeas – that’s another secret she’ll know.”
They thought about the problem.
“Could you bring Girl over here, instead?” asked Max.
“What if my owner sees her?”
“It’s easier to hide a dog than a girl,” said Max.
“I’m not sure she’d come, she’s so timid.”
“But she must want her paw fixed,” said Max.
“She barely trusts us – how will she cope with a strange human?”
Max was impatient. “Look, Gus, it’s risky whatever we do, but we can’t do nothing. Next time Harriet comes here, you’ll have to persuade Girl to join us.”
“OK, I’ll talk to her and explain our plan. He’s usually inside at the time Harriet comes and, with a bit of luck, he won’t look out the window.”
That same afternoon, Harriet came to see Max after school. Max let Gus know and while Harriet was sitting on the tiles with him, Gus and Girl emerged from the hydrangeas. Harriet’s mouth dropped open.
“Who’s this?” She scrambled to her feet and watched the small do
g limping towards her. “Oh, you poor little thing?” She stood still and waited for Girl to come closer. “What’s wrong with your paw? Have you had an accident? You’re so thin. What’s your name?” Slowly Harriet held out her hand. Girl sniffed her, but when Harriet moved her hand towards Girl’s chin, Girl flinched and Harriet dropped her hand.
“Someone’s been mean to you,” she said. “Is that why Gus and Max are looking after you?”
Suddenly she remembered the biscuits in her pocket. She took one out and offered it to the dog. Girl watched her carefully, then snatched it out of Harriet’s hand and retreated behind Gus. Harriet laughed.
“There’s another one in my pocket,” she said, “but you’ll have to come closer.” She held it out, gripping it firmly. Once again Girl tried to snatch it, but Harriet held on. Girl took a step back and Gus gave a short, soft bark. “See, Gus thinks I’m OK,” said Harriet.
Girl stepped closer to Harriet and reached out for the biscuit, her back hunched. She was trembling. Very slowly, Harriet bent down and gave her the biscuit. A crunch and it was gone.
“You’re pretty hungry,” said Harriet. “I’ll have to bring you some more food.” She gave Girl the last biscuit. This time Girl let Harriet scratch her under the chin.
“Will you let me look at your paw?” Harriet asked, but when she moved her hand towards it, Girl growled.
She needs more time to get used to me, thought Harriet, and I need something to clean her paw.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said. “I hope you’ll be here. I’ll bring some food.”
She turned to walk away. Girl whined and lifted her tail – the beginning of a wag.
“She’ll be back,” said Gus. “You have to let her look at your paw. We can’t fix it.”
“Humans aren’t all bad,” said Max, “though I guess that’s hard for you to believe. Oh, and I saved you some of my dinner.” He went into his kennel and came out with some dog biscuits. Girl fell on them.
Caught
All the way home Harriet’s head buzzed with questions about the new dog. Who did she belong to? What had caused that bare patch on her shoulder? Would she let Harriet look at her paw? What would happen to her now? How did lost dogs get returned to their owners, and what if the owners had treated them badly? Wouldn’t it be better if they went to another home – but who decided?
Gus and Max brought her to see me, thought Harriet, so they must want me to help. It means they think I’ll keep the secret. So what should I do now? Bring more food for sure, and do something about that paw. Between us we can help her not to be so frightened, but Max and Gus can’t keep her hidden forever.
Does she have a name? What would I call her if she were mine? She’s white with golden-brown patches and her coat’s kind of rough. She’s got floppy ears and a short tail. Patch, Dapple, Tootsie, Lucy, Fritzi: none of the names felt right. I don’t know her well enough yet, Harriet decided.
She walked towards her gate. Mrs Martin’s carport was empty. Brutus wasn’t barking. Maybe the visits from Gus and Max had done the trick. She’d hardly seen or heard anything of Brutus lately. After what had happened, she didn’t mind. Her disappointment about not having a friendly dog next door had disappeared, thanks to Max and Gus, though she had a scared feeling when she thought of Brutus.
She put her hand through the gate to open it. To her surprise Brutus trotted out from behind the garage. Harriet closed the gate quickly and pulled her hand back. Brutus stood on the other side facing her, braced, with his tail between his legs. Ears flat, he stared at Harriet with wide-open eyes. She could hear the beginning of a growl. Her heart jumped and she breathed faster. What should she do? There was nowhere safe to go. How had Brutus got into her garden? She stood there for a minute or two, while the growling grew louder.
“Go home, Brutus,” she said in her bossiest voice, though it wobbled a bit. Brutus pulled his lips back and wrinkled up his muzzle. His growls turned into snarls. He pushed his nose against the gate. Suddenly Harriet felt angry. How dare this dog stop her from opening her own gate – and he was much smaller than she was! “Don’t you growl at me!” she shouted, rattling the gate loudly and glaring at him. Brutus took a step back but he didn’t stop snarling. The hair along his back stood up. Harriet rattled the gate again. “Get back to your own garden!” she shouted.
Harriet became aware of a chorus of barking close and far. Before she could decide what to do next, the front door of her house opened and her mother stepped out.
“Is that you, Harriet?” she called.
“Watch out for Brutus!” Harriet shouted. “He won’t let me in!”
Then everything seemed to happen at once. Gus and Max arrived, panting, Mrs Martin turned into her drive and, from the other end of the road, a white van cruised towards her.
“Call your dog off!” Harriet’s mother shouted to Mrs Martin when she got out of the car.
“Brutus, back off!” barked Gus.
“It’s the dog catcher!” yelped Max, and fled down the road.
Gus stood barking fiercely at Brutus until he turned and slunk away. The white van stopped and a man got out. He was dressed in green and he carried a rope.
“So you’re the cause of all the fuss,” he said to Gus and slipped the rope loop over his head.
“No!” shouted Harriet. “You’ve got the wrong dog!”
“All right, young lady,” the man replied. “Calm down, we’ll sort it out.” He led Gus over to the van. Harriet ran after him. She flung her arms around Gus’s neck.
“He’s my friend. He came to help me. You can’t take him away. It was Brutus. He’s the problem – look, over there, the brown and black dog.” But Brutus had disappeared. Harriet burst into tears.
Her mother came through the gate.
“It’s all right, Harry. Mrs Martin has got Brutus back on his leash. He’d slipped his collar. There’s nothing to be frightened of now.”
“But he’s taking Gus away and it’s not his fault.”
Her mother spoke to the animal control officer: “There seems to be some misunderstanding. It’s the dog in that house over there,” she explained. “He barks a lot and just lately I’ve seen him roaming the streets. He got into our place and wouldn’t let my daughter through the gate.”
“Yes,” said the man. “I’ve had complaints about that dog and someone in your street rang the office a few minutes ago about your little girl. Luckily I was in the neighbourhood. I’ll be speaking to the dog’s owner, but this black lab’s out on the street without a leash or an owner in sight so I’m obliged to take him into custody. We’ll trace the owner from the collar and sort it out quickly,” he said to Harriet kindly. “He’ll just spend the night with us – like going to a dog hotel,” he joked.
“Gus, Gus,” said Harriet. “I’ll tell Mr Jacobs. You’ll be out in no time!”
Gus barked twice: “Where’s Max? Look after him. I’ll be OK.”
“Come on, Harry,” said her mother, and they walked up the path. Harriet looked around for Max. He was nowhere to be seen. The dog control officer bundled Gus into the van. He strode off to see Mrs Martin.
Max stood trembling behind a hedge. He was bitterly ashamed of himself. He’d run off and left Gus to it – to deal with Brutus, protect Harriet and face up to the dog catcher. He’d seen Gus put into the van and he’d done nothing to stop it.
The van stood further along the road. Long shadows reached towards it. Max knew he would have to get home quickly if he didn’t want to be caught out. He wanted to go to Gus, but he knew he had to stay free – Girl depended on it. He slipped out on to the road. “Gus, I’ll work something out! Hang on!” he barked, and set off for home as fast as he could.
Harriet and her mother sat at the kitchen table.
“You have to let me go and tell Mr Jacobs about Gus,” urged Harriet. “And I have to make sure Max is all right.”
“Be sensible,” said her mother. “The animal control officer will find out from Gus
’s collar who to ring.”
“But Mr Jacobs mightn’t know till tomorrow, and Gus will be locked up all night. He’ll be alone and frightened. We have to get him out tonight.”
“Harriet, it’s nearly five o’clock and the pound will probably be closed for the night.”
“What’s the pound?” asked Harriet.
“It’s where they keep the dogs who’ve been picked up.”
Harriet imagined Gus lying on a damp, concrete floor in a room full of rough, dangerous dogs like Brutus.
“He’s got a sore hip. They won’t feed him properly. It’s not fair – it should be Brutus in there.” And where was Max? She couldn’t stop worrying.
Harriet’s mother sighed. This dog business was getting out of hand. “Tell you what, Harry,” she said. “How about I ring Mr Jacobs.” Harriet nodded and tried to smile.
Her mother looked in the phone book and rang.
“Mr Jacobs?” she asked. “Do you own a black Labrador called Gus?”
She paused and listened. “I think you’ll find he’s been picked up by the dog ranger … Yes … He was outside my house in Moa Road … My daughter, Harriet, recognised him …Yes, she visits Max after school … Did he? Really? … Oh well, she’ll be relieved to know Max is safe … She’s obviously become attached to Gus as well … Yes, thank you … Harriet was upset, she wanted to let you know … Goodbye.”
She put the phone down. “He was wondering where Gus was,” she said. “Max wouldn’t stop barking and whining when he got home and Mr Jacobs thought something must be wrong.”
“How did Brutus get into our garden?” Harriet asked.
“Let’s check the side gate,” said her mother, and they went outside. The gate was partly open. Mrs Martin was taking the washing in. She walked over.
“I’m really sorry about what happened,” she said. “Brutus managed to slip his collar and he pushed his way through your gate. He was probably looking for company.”
“I don’t think so,” said Harriet’s mother. “Friendly dogs don’t growl.”
