by Duncan Ball
‘What a dog!’ people cried and, ‘Come back here, you wonderful hunk!’ as more and more people joined in the chase.
‘How is this going to end?!’ Selby wailed to himself.‘I can’t keep running forever!’
It wasn’t a human who finally stopped it, it was Hamish the-not-very-bright-but-always-cheerful sheepdog. Selby turned for a second and saw that look in Hamish’s eyes. Just then Hamish grabbed him by the leg and brought him crashing to the ground. And in a second, there was a huge pile of screaming people in the middle of Bogusville.
‘This is it!’ Selby thought. ‘I’ve been stampeded! I’m a done dog!’
A police siren sounded and the crowd suddenly parted, leaving Selby lying there looking up at Sergeant Short and Constable Long.
‘What’s got into you people?!’ Sergeant Short shouted.
‘It’s him,’ Postie Paterson said, pointing to Selby.
‘Who, Selby?’ Sergeant Short said.‘What’s he done?’
‘You’re not looking at him. Have a look.’
Selby watched as the policeman’s eyes slowly glazed over.
‘Oh, great,’ he thought.‘Here we go again.’
‘Selby,’ Constable Long said. ‘I never noticed it before but you are really beautiful. I think … I think I’m in love with you.’
‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought. ‘I’m about to be kissed by a cop!’
‘Hang on a tick!’ Sergeant Short yelled.‘He’s mine!’
‘No, he’s mine!’ someone in the crowd yelled and the crowd moved forward.
‘It’s my only chance! I’ve got to speak or I’m dead!’ Selby thought, clearing his throat. ‘Stop!’ he yelled in plain English.‘Stay right where you are! Get a grip on yourselves!’
The crowd stopped.
‘Selby,’ Mrs Trifle said,‘you spoke.’
‘Yes, I spoke,’ Selby said. ‘I know how to talk — and read and write — but never mind about that. You’ve all gone crazy because of Madame Mascara’s perfume.’
‘What perfume?’ Madame Mascara asked, looking completely confused.
‘Your Passion Potion,’ Selby said. ‘You spilled it on me. It works. Only it works forever! I don’t want to go through life having people cuddling me and kissing me. I’m not a doll, you know, I’m a dog. Now do you love me?’
‘Yes, we do!’ the crowd roared.
Selby looked around at all the faces.
‘This is going to be mean and cruel and nasty,’ he thought, ‘but I’ve got to do it. It’s the only way. Okay,’ he said out loud, ‘if you really love me then you have to do as I say —’
‘We’ll do anything for you, Selby!’ someone cried.
‘Okay, here are the rules …’
Selby had just finished telling them that no one was allowed to pat him for more than a minute and only when he wanted them to when suddenly he saw their faces begin to change. Their crazed looks suddenly turned to glazed looks and then to dazed looks and then to amazed looks and suddenly they were scratching their heads and wondering what was going on. Selby stopped talking.
‘What are you all doing here?’ Sergeant Short asked.
‘It’s wearing off,’ Selby thought.‘The Passion Potion is wearing off! It didn’t last forever! It must be because Madame M used the wrong ingredients! And now that the spell is broken, they don’t remember that I talked! I’m a free dog! Oh joy, oh joy!’
‘What am I doing here?’ Madame Mascara said, as she wandered off, following other people who were wandering off.
‘And what’s Selby doing here?’ Mrs Trifle asked, picking him up. ‘Phew! Oh, Selby, you smell very strange. Come along and let’s give you a good bath.’
‘Oh, isn’t life wonderful,’ Selby thought as the Trifles carried him home. ‘The Trifles are the most wonderful people in the world. I love them and they love me. But I hope nobody ever falls in love with me again.’
Paw note: Don’t try to make this potion. If you do, you’ll be sorry. S
MY ITCH ATTACK
One day I had an itch
attack And bent my leg behind my back
And scratched and scratched and
scratched and scratched
And scratched and scratched and
scratched and scratched
And scratched and scratched and
scratched some more
(Then all my fur fell on the floor!)
SELBY SURVIVES
Selby sensed that a storm was coming.
He could feel it in his bones. He could smell it in the wind. He could see huge clouds building up over the ocean. And he’d heard it on the weather forecast. Well he sort of heard it.
While the TV director of Outcast Island was counting the coconuts with votes scratched on them to see who was going to be voted off the island, Selby stood on the beach and could barely hear a radio on the boat that was moored nearby. What he heard was:
Crackle crackle. ‘(mumble mumble)… warning…’ crackle ‘(mumble)… cyclone…’ (mumble mumble) ‘…waters nor th of Point (mumble)…’ crackle crackle ‘…warning… high winds and high seas…’
‘Gulp,’ Selby thought. ‘I wonder if that was north of Point Vertical? That’s where we are! I don’t envy these Outcast Island people if they’re stuck on this island in a storm. I’ll be okay because I’m heading for the mainland with the TV crew.’
Selby watched as the director read off the names from the coconut shells.
‘We have a loser,’ he announced. ‘I’m afraid it’s Mandy-Lou. Sorry, Mandy-Lou, I know how much you wanted to win a million dollars. But you’ve had a good time, haven’t you?’
The woman wearing an Outcast Island T-shirt walked to the centre of the circle. There were tears in her eyes.
‘I’m really sorry to go because — hey — I thought I was going to win the money. But — hey — it’s okay. You can still lose and be a winner. I’m a winner because — hey — I love each and every one of you. You’ll all be my dearest friends for life, okay?’
‘Woo woo, Mandy-Lou!’ the others cheered. ‘We love you, Mandy-Lou!’
Mandy-Lou turned to the director. ‘How was that?’
‘That’s just fine, Mandy-Lou.’
‘Okay so my contract’s finished, right?’
‘You’re a free woman, Mandy-Lou.’
‘Is the camera off?’
‘Cut! It is now.’
‘Alright you sleazeballs!’ Mandy-Lou screamed. ‘Thanks a bunch for voting me off the island! And after all I did for you! You voted against me, didn’t you, Sharlene. You with that make-up to cover the wart on your nose — you witch!’
‘Mandy-Lou, it’s time we went back to the mainland,’ the director said, pulling the screaming woman towards the boat.
‘Get your filthy hands off me, you creep!’ Mandy-Lou yelled. ‘And as for you, Chuck, it’s off between us! Don’t ever ring me! You’re a liar and you’re short! Goodbye shrimp!’
‘Mandy-Lou, relax, it’s over. You’ll be on a plane home tonight.’
‘Lying cheating nincompoops!’ Mandy-Lou yelled, spitting on the ground. ‘I thought we were friends but you’re only in this for the money! I hope I never see any of you again!’
‘Wow!’ Selby thought. ‘I had no idea that these Outcast Island people hated each other so much.’
The director picked Selby up and began wading out towards the boat along with Mandy-Lou and the TV camera and sound people. The nine outcasts stood watching. Then one of the women spoke.
‘Would it be okay to leave Dingo here for the night?’ she asked.
‘I guess so, Holly,’ said the director.‘We don’t have to send him back to Bogusville till tomorrow.’
‘Dingo?’ Selby thought. ‘Hey, hang on, that’s me! I don’t want to be left here overnight! Especially not with a storm coming! Help!’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Holly said, taking Selby out of the director’s arms. ‘I just want him to keep me company.’
As the TV crew sped aw
ay, the director yelled out, ‘You’d better make shelters for yourselves! It looks like rain!’
* * *
Selby’s mind went back to the day when Mrs Trifle saw an ad in the Bogusville Banner for a dog to be in the TV series Outcast Island.
‘I love that show!’ he thought.‘I love the way they work out puzzles. I love the campfires, and secret caves, and notes that are burnt around the edges! I love everything about it! Maybe they’ll choose me and I’ll get to win a million smackeroos.’
Mrs Trifle emailed a photo of Selby and the TV company loved the look of him. They came to talk to the Trifles.
‘We just want him for two days,’ they said, handing the Trifles a cheque.‘Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him.’
‘This is going to be sooooo much fun,’ Selby thought.
The next day Selby was on the island. There, a team of make-up artists dyed his fur to make him look like a dingo. Then they put him in some nearby bushes and started the cameras.
‘Look! There’s one of those dingoes!’ he heard one of the outcasts whisper. ‘He’s after our food!’
‘Quick! Make a big fire to keep him away!’ another outcast whispered back. ‘Where are the guys?’
‘Cut!’ the director called.‘That was great, girls.’
‘Is that it?’ Selby wondered. ‘Did they bring me all the way here just to pretend I was a dingo for a couple of seconds? I guess they did.’
Selby watched all afternoon as one of the outcast teams had to figure out how to get to the top of a palm tree to find a secret map. The other team was doing an enormous crossword puzzle in the sand using huge letters that they’d found in a treasure chest. A TV helicopter circled overhead to take pictures. Finally, just before voting Mandy-Lou off the island, the outcasts had to eat raw birds’ eggs, sandworms and a handful of ants while the TV crew, and Selby, helped themselves from platters of delicious food.
But now the day was over and Selby and the outcasts were alone on their tiny island.
‘Hey, everyone,’ Holly said to the others.‘I’ve got an idea. Let’s all make a shelter together.’
One of the others gave her a dirty look.
‘Make your own shelter,’ he snapped.
‘You just want us to help you, don’t you?’ another outcast said.
‘No, I don’t. I was just thinking —’
‘Think again, Hol,’ one of the other women said. ‘Maybe you can get the dog to help you.’
‘Hey, guys,’ someone else said. ‘Tomorrow let’s vote Holly off the island.’
‘Good idea,’ one of the men said.
‘But that’s not fair!’ Holly sniffed. ‘You’re ganging up on me.’
‘Oh, go play with your dog,’ someone said.
Holly carried Selby into the palms and sat down.
‘You’re a darling,’ Holly said, cuddling Selby. He could see the tears forming in her eyes. ‘I really hate these people,’ she went on. ‘They’re all so spiteful and nasty. They can’t even pretend to be nice. All they want is the money. Tomorrow they’re going to vote me off the island and guess what?’
For a split second Selby forgot himself and almost said,‘What?’
‘I’ll tell you what,’ Holly said. ‘I don’t care if they do vote me off the island. I’m sick of this. I only wanted to come here so I’d be noticed and maybe I’d get some acting roles.’
Selby could see the others collecting anything they could to build their shelters — palm fronds, bits of wood, pieces of bark. On the horizon, the storm clouds were getting bigger and darker.
‘Thanks for the cuddle, Holly,’ Selby thought. ‘But you’d better get a wriggle on. I don’t fancy lying around all night in the rain.’
‘I guess I’d better make a shelter,’ Holly mumbled. ‘I’m not much good at this stuff but then neither are the others.’
Selby watched as Holly searched for building materials.
‘I guess this is it,’ she said, dumping an armload of things on the ground.
‘This is what?’ Selby thought. ‘What kind of a shelter does she expect to make from a piece of bark, a handful of grass, three chocolate bar wrappers and a rubber thong?’
Holly studied her small pile of material for a minute, grabbed the piece of bark, lay down and covered her head with it.
‘Goodnight, Dingo,’ she said.
‘Holly, this is stupid,’ Selby thought. ‘You’re sweet but you’ll never be a survivor.’
Selby ran around the island looking at the shelters the other outcasts were building. There were bits of plastic and piles of dried leaves and even some boards that had been washed up on the beach.
‘They’re almost as bad as Holly’s,’ Selby thought as he remembered a TV program he’d seen about making shelters in the bush. ‘And that sky is looking worse and worse.’
Selby tore along the beach, digging here and there when he saw something poking out of the sand. In a few minutes he’d found a length of rope and a long section of fishing net.
‘This is good strong stuff,’ he thought as lightning lit up the sky. ‘Now lots of palm fronds and some big strong branches.’
Selby dragged his materials back to where Holly lay sleeping. He jabbed one end of the sticks into the ground and then tied their tops to the trunk of a palm. After an hour, Selby was exhausted.
‘Now why couldn’t they all get together and do something like this,’ he thought.
Selby put the fishing net over the wooden frame and tied it to two nearby palms. Then he started poking palm leaves through the net.
‘Now that’s what I call a proper shelter,’ he thought as he crawled inside and lay down next to the sleeping girl.
Soon the wind was blowing steadily and the rain began. Holly sat up and looked around her.
‘Goodness, look what I made,’ she said. ‘And I don’t even remember doing it.’
Then she lay down again and began to snore.
‘You don’t remember it because you didn’t make it,’ Selby said out loud. ‘I did! You and your friends are hopeless! You’re supposed to be survivors but you’re nothing but a bunch of selfish losers. You spend all your time fighting with each other when you could be helping each other out. People who work together will be the real survivors and don’t you forget it. I’m leaving tomorrow. I have more important things to do with my life than to look silly on TV and hang around with a bunch of morons like you.’
Holly sat up and stared in the darkness at Selby. There was a strange expression on her face. She was frowning but smiling a tiny smile at the same time. The rain was bucketing down now and the wind was howling through the trees.
‘Is that you, Dingo?’ she said. ‘Were you just talking to me?’
Selby was about to say,‘I certainly was,’ when there was a voice behind him.
‘Holly, can we come in?’
One by one the other outcasts crawled into Selby’s shelter. The wind howled and thunder boomed. No one spoke. Minutes passed and then hours but in the morning, when the sun rose, Selby’s shelter was still there. One by one the outcasts crawled out. In the distance the TV boat was speeding towards the island.
‘Thank you so much, Holly,’ one of the women said. ‘Where did you learn to make a shelter like that?’
‘I was so upset last night that I don’t remember a thing,’ Holly said.
‘Well you saved our lives and we’ve decided not to vote you off the island today.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Holly said.
All of a sudden Selby saw Holly’s strange expression again.
‘I have these words in my head,’ she said.
‘What words?’
‘I don’t know. Thoughts. Things I have to say.’
‘Well then go ahead — speak.’
‘I just wanted to say that I think you’re all hopeless. Listen to me and listen carefully. You’re supposed to be survivors but you’re nothing but a bunch of selfish losers. You spend all your time fighting with each oth
er when you could be helping each other out. People who work together will be the real survivors and don’t you forget it.’
‘Is that it?’ one of the men asked.
‘No, there’s one more thing. I’m leaving tomorrow. I have more important things to do with my life than to look silly on TV and hang around with a bunch of morons like you.’
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Suddenly they began cheering.
‘Is everybody there?’ the director yelled from the boat. ‘Thank goodness you’re okay. We didn’t have any warning of that storm.’
‘Look at that! There’s Selby,’ Dr Trifle said to Mrs Trifle a few days later when they were watching TV. ‘They’ve made him up to look like a dingo but he still sort of looks like Selby.’
‘This’ll be the last episode,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Really? Why’s that?’
‘Because the outcasts have all quit.’
‘Do you mean none of them wants the million dollars?’
‘Apparently not. They didn’t explain why, they just voted themselves off the island. The TV people are very upset.’
‘It doesn’t make sense,’ Dr Trifle said.
Selby looked up from where he was lying.
‘It makes perfect sense to me,’ he thought, as he admired himself in his dingo make-up.‘But I have to admit that I don’t look so silly on TV. In fact, I think I look quite handsome.’
SANTA SELBY
‘What would you like for Christmas?’ Dr Trifle asked.‘I’ve bought a few presents for you but I’d like to get one more thing.’
‘Don’t get me anything else,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You’ve probably already bought too much.’
‘No, I haven’t. It would be impossible to buy you too much. Is there still something that you really really want?’
‘There is one thing. Remember the beautiful vase that Willy threw at Billy last year?’
‘Only he didn’t throw it at Billy,’ Selby thought.‘He threw it at me! the little terror.’
‘Do you want another one just like it?’ Dr Trifle asked.
