by Blake Morgan
Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Extract
Copyright
“Oh, Buddy, where are you?” Katie’s voice sang out across the field.
From my hiding place, I watched our Human come to the door of the Training Centre and raise her hand to shade her eyes against the sunshine. Katie has been with us since we were pups, training us. We do everything she tells us because we love her – but sometimes I like to tease her too. I’d found the perfect hiding place today. There was no way she’d spot me!
“What are you doing?” said my best friend, as he trotted to my side. Banjo is a small yellow Labrador and he loves to think he knows better than any other Trainee Detection Dog. It’s a good job Katie has taught me to be patient, because Banjo could definitely annoy some dogs. Fortunately, he’s really great at sharing his treats.
“Shh!” I said. “I’m hiding. Can’t you see?” My tail wagged as I laughed to myself.
It was strange, though – as I peeked out, I saw Katie striding over in our direction. It was almost like … she’d seen me! But there was no way that could have happened. I quickly ducked down and Katie disappeared from my sight.
“Oh, Buddy.” Banjo licked my ear. “You can’t hide behind a mound of grass. You’re too big!”
“Yes, I can!” I said. “Look.” I lowered my muzzle to the ground. “I can’t see Katie.”
Banjo’s whole body was shaking with laughter now. “Just because you can’t see her, doesn’t mean she can’t see you. You’re the biggest Labrador in the centre!”
I glanced over my shoulder at my chocolate-coloured haunches. I was still growing and my tail waved in the air like a giant fluffy flag. Maybe Banjo had a point. I gave a yowl of disappointment as Katie called out again.
“I can see you, Buddy! Stop trying to hide.” A shadow passed over me and she reached out for my collar. “Come on, silly billy. Come and join the others.”
The others! Why hadn’t she said so before? I leaped up from my hiding place and bounded ahead. It felt great to stretch my muscles and feel the grass tickling my tummy as I ran, the morning sun warming my fur. I could hear Banjo’s paws pounding the ground behind me as he tried to keep up, but no dog ran as fast as I did.
“Catch me if you can!” I called back, my tongue lolling out of the side of my mouth as I put on an extra burst of speed. Banjo howled in protest as I streaked further ahead, barrelling into the group of other dogs.
Today was our last day at the Training Centre, the day we’d been working towards since we first came here as puppies. I couldn’t decide if I felt excited to go to my new home or sad to leave our first Human. I’d go to the ends of the earth for Katie if she asked me to, but she insisted my real job was going to be helping my new owner.
“I’ll always be here for you guys,” she’d say, as she kissed the tops of our heads each night, while we fell asleep in our baskets. “But one day, you’ll need to help a poorly child. It’s what I’ve been training you to do.”
It’s funny how Humans get to decide what job a dog is given, but I guess I’m one of the lucky ones – I’m going to help a child. And as Katie has always told us: “That’s the best job in the world.”
We’d spent the past six months building up to this day. Each of us had been assigned a sick child with a specific need, and trained to recognize the signs and scents around an emergency. Banjo would be going to help a little girl called Rachel, who had diabetes – that’s when someone doesn’t have the right amount of sugar in their blood. One of the other dogs, Jet, had been assigned to a boy who had epilepsy. And me – my kid, Noah, had anaemia, which meant he needed more iron in his blood. A boy like Noah could turn pale or start breathing with short breaths if his iron levels dropped too low. If he was playing sport he could faint, or if he was rushing around he might need to sit down. Two weeks ago I’d got to meet him, so we could train together before I went to live with him. And today he was finally coming to take me home!
“Hey, Buddy, be careful!” I’d been so busy thinking about my new friend that I’d managed to tumble into the other dogs and they’d fallen against each other, their paws scrabbling on the floor. Now, they were righting themselves and grumbling in disapproval.
“You’re so clumsy, Buddy,” complained Tess, a Welsh Border collie. Boy, can she be grumpy! I felt like telling her that it’s not good for a Detection Dog to be in a bad mood. Humans can pick up on feelings, just as much as dogs can.
“I’m sorry, Tess,” I said, as she squared her shoulders. By then, a car had driven through the wooden gates of the centre and Humans were getting out of it, their faces shining with happiness.
“Never mind,” Tess whispered. “The Humans are arriving now.”
Swish, swoosh, swish, swoosh. Ten tails wagged as the Humans walked over to us. Katie took charge straight away, leading the family over to their dog.
As the morning went by, one by one, the other dogs were collected by their sets of Humans. My tail wagged faster and faster with each car that pulled up – it made me so happy to see dogs and their families setting off together. But I also wanted to howl with frustration. When would it be my turn? And what if Noah didn’t like me any more?
I gazed down at my glossy chocolate fur and gave my front paws an extra lick to make my claws sparkle and shine. Come on, who was I kidding? Who wouldn’t want a Detection Dog as cute as me?
Katie whistled to Banjo and I watched my pal go to join his little girl.
“Banjo’s been waiting for you all morning,” she said to Rachel, smiling.
It was true. He was so excited, he hadn’t even been able to eat his breakfast! Rachel threw her arms round Banjo’s neck and he patiently allowed her to hide her face in his fur. We’d all been taught to stay calm, no matter how a Human touched us. But Rachel was so full of fun and life – what dog wouldn’t want to be cuddled by her?
When Rachel pulled back from Banjo, I felt my nostrils flare as her scent drifted across the air. I could make out her breakfast cereal, the shampoo in her hair and – what was the other smell? – ah, yes, the tang of hormones that meant she was diabetic. Banjo would need to keep a sharp nose on the levels of sugar in her blood and give her a touch of his nose when it was time for her to take her medicine. Banjo was a good and clever dog – as I watched him trot away with his new owner, I knew he’d look after Rachel.
“Take care, Banjo!” I yowled after him and he responded with a shake of his fur, before leaping into the back of the car. As the door slammed shut behind him, I have to admit my heart ached. I’ll miss you, pal, I thought. Maybe one day, we’d see each other again, in a park or adventure playground!
As I looked around, I realized there was only one dog left – me! My tail stopped wagging and I couldn’t stop my shoulders from slouching just a little bit. I looked up at Katie’s face and she gave me a big smile as she ruffled my fur. “Don’t worry, little one,” she said. “Your new owner will be—”
Before she could get the rest of her words out, another car pulled into the car park and a boy got out, looking around excitedly. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled down low over his face, which made it hard to see his eyes. I always like to see a Human’s eyes – a dog finds the truth there. As soon as he looked up, though, I recognized him instantly: Noah.
When Noah spotted me he gave a cry and ran over, pulling up short in front of me. He tore off his cap and threw it into the ai
r, whooping with delight. Well, it was quite a shock, I can tell you! But I stayed still, just as Katie had trained me to do, and waited patiently.
“Woohoo! Here he is!” Noah cried. “I knew he’d be waiting for me.”
“Noah, calm down!” His mum followed after him and placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it soothingly. “I’m sorry we’re late,” she said to Katie. “The traffic!”
I noticed that Noah’s dad was watching him carefully, as though looking for something. I recognized the crease between his brows straight away. I’d seen it before: worry.
It’s OK, I wanted to tell him. We’ve trained hard. Everything is going to be fine.
“It’s good to see you again, Noah,” Katie said, reaching to shake his hand. Noah pumped her hand up and down in return and she laughed.
“Wait till you see your new home, Buddy!” he said to me. I lifted a paw and pretended to high-five him. He burst out laughing and his teeth sparkled white in the sunshine.
We’re going to be the best of friends, I thought in that moment. I can feel it to the tip of my tail. I gave a tiny, affectionate lick of his hand and he laughed and wriggled.
I could detect all sorts of smells on him: worms, the dirt of the field, the tang of sweat, and something else beneath all of that – the strange scent of something that was missing. Iron. It was difficult to know when anaemia would affect a Human – but that’s what I was here for. I’d been trained to notice the signs and start barking if I thought Noah was going to fall ill. He would sit down and I could fetch someone to help him, or an adult Human might notice my barks and come to rescue the situation before Noah fell or fainted.
This was called a Very Important Job.
Noah’s mum smiled down at the two of us. “Hello again, Buddy. Are you ready to start your new life with us?”
“You’re new to the area, is that right?” Katie asked. “I’d never seen you around, before we started the training.”
“That’s right,” said Noah’s dad. “We moved here last month. With everything that’s been going on with Noah’s health, we wanted to get out of the city.”
“Good idea,” Katie said. “It’s great around here and Noah will love his new school!” She glanced back and winked at Noah, who pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes. I think he was embarrassed that they were talking about him. I couldn’t really blame him – I have to listen to Humans cooing over me all the time! The cap had a picture of a baseball bat on the front, so I could guess what his favourite game was and I felt my heart speed up with excitement. I loved balls almost as much as I loved treats!
As the grown-ups began to walk across the car park, Noah and I followed. I noticed him looking at me out of the side of his eye, almost as though he was nervous. I touched the tip of my wet nose against his calf and he laughed – this was what I did with Katie, when we were out on a walk. It was my way of checking in with my Human – and Noah was mine now. He didn’t need to be shy around me!
“Thank you for everything,” Noah’s mum said, as we arrived beside the car. The two Humans were shaking hands as Noah and I watched.
With Katie waving goodbye, I leaped into the car after Noah. I took up most of the back seat but he didn’t seem to mind. As we drove out of the Training Centre, I looked at Katie one last time. She’d helped me learn everything I knew in the world. Now, it was my turn to help Noah.
Do you know what it’s like to get a whole new family? It’s exciting!
The car took us on a long journey, full of smells. There was the scent of hot tarmac beneath the sun and the sugary smell of doughnuts from a stand on a street corner. After a while, the aromas turned golden like straw and we arrived in a place full of trees and fields. The car went up a drive where the gravel crunched beneath its wheels and made my tummy vibrate, though that might have been the nerves. It was hard to tell.
The car came to a stop and Noah jumped out.
“Careful, Noah!” his mum called and I saw him secretly roll his eyes. His dad passed him a dog lead. It was made of woven leather in a burnished brown colour, just like my coat.
“We bought this especially for you, Buddy,” Noah said, clipping it on. “Come and see your new home.” As we started to walk towards the shiny front door, there was a shout from the garden and I saw a couple of girls leaping over the spray from a sprinkler on the lawn. I recognized one of them from our training sessions as Noah’s sister, Lucy.
“Hey, let’s go and play with Lucy and Bea!” Noah cried, and began to run towards the girls. I loped alongside him eagerly.
But before we got very far, his mum called out again. “Noah, take it easy, please!” Our run slowed to a jog, then a walk and then we came to a stop altogether. Slowly, we turned round and Noah led me inside the house, his feet dragging over the doorstep.
“You’ll be out playing soon enough, pal,” his dad said, plucking the baseball cap from Noah’s head and hanging it on the coat rack. “Be patient.”
Noah gave a big sigh. I’d heard them talking in the car and knew that Noah was on a new medicine called ‘iron liquid’. Katie used to hide medicine in our wet dog food when we were puppies, but Noah’s mum didn’t need to do that with him. As we walked into the kitchen, I saw him take a dark brown bottle and add a few drops of liquid to some squash. He drank it straight down in one!
“Slow down, Noah,” his dad said, as he took the empty glass to the sink. “That’s new medicine for you. You might need to get used to it.” I wasn’t too worried, though. Katie had assured me that anaemia could be mended, but in the meantime – it was down to me to make sure Noah was always safe.
“Come on then, Buddy. Take a look around.”
As he led me from room to room, I sensed his mood improving. I sniffed the floor and brushed my flanks up against the walls, being careful to rub my scent into my new home. This is mine now, I thought with excitement. I wanted every animal in the neighbourhood to understand that Buddy the Detection Dog had arrived. I was here to take care of Noah and everything was going to be all right.
When we returned to the kitchen, Noah looked down at me and gave me his first ever order: “Sit!”
Immediately, I lowered my rear end and – ooh! – those tiles were chilly against my bottom! But I did as I was told, like a good dog.
Noah leaned down and unclipped my lead. Then he rubbed his hand across my fur. “Good dog! Are you thirsty?” There was a metal bowl by the back door and I padded straight over to take a deep drink of the cool water. When I finally lifted my head, my whiskers were dripping wet. Behind me, Noah shook a tin and I understood immediately. Treats!
I sat down again and waited while Noah placed a dog biscuit on the floor. I stared at it, my nose nearly touching the treat. I stared and waited, stared and waited, my whole body trembling with anticipation. When would Noah give me the signal? Then…
“Eat!”
I lunged on the treat and gobbled it up. Maybe I ate it a bit too fast, because I couldn’t really taste anything. Chicken … or ham? It was hard to tell. I stared meaningfully at the tin, hoping for another try, but Noah put it away and my tummy growled with disappointment.
“Come on. Come and see your bed.” He began to lead me up the stairs, but I wove my body past his legs and bounded ahead. I could tell which was his room because of the smell that drifted out and I dived through the door. There was a wicker basket at the base of the bed, filled with soft downy pillows. Some lucky animal must sleep in there, I thought. A hamster or a rabbit, maybe. Then I leaped straight over the basket and on to the bed, turned a circle three times and settled down.
Noah was watching from the door. As I scratched an ear with a hind paw, his face split into a grin. “Mum! Come and look at this,” he said. His mum came upstairs, along with his sister, who had come in from the garden.
The two of them stood in the doorway. They stared at me and burst out laughing. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what it was they found so funny.
“Oh, Buddy,” Lucy gasped. “D
idn’t you know? Your bed is on the floor!” She pointed and I peered over the edge of the mattress at the basket. That tiny thing? I mean, it might work for a Chihuahua, but a dog like me needed room to spread out!
I tucked my nose between my paws and showed Lucy the white crescents of my eyes. No way. You can sleep in there if you like. I’m staying up here.
“Buddy, do you have a stubborn streak?” their mum asked me, laughter bubbling up her throat again.
I hid my face deeper in my paws. Had she worked me out already? But at least they didn’t make me get down. I mean, I did need to stay close to Noah. Right?
I noticed now that Noah’s mum was holding something behind her back, which she brought round to show him.
“I made this so you can show Buddy your life so far.”
Noah took the album from her and flipped it open. There were loads of photos inside – all of Noah!
He looked up. “Dogs don’t understand photos, Mum,” he explained patiently. “That’s like thinking they can do maths or read books.”
You’d be surprised, I thought.
“You’d be surprised,” Lucy said, bouncing on to the bed beside him. I looked up at her. It was like she was reading my thoughts! Maybe dogs were telepathic…
She took the album from Noah and wriggled over to sit beside me. A scent floated off her. It was a mixture of things, including crushed rose petals from the garden, but beneath that was another smell, something deeper. It was the aroma of kindness. And something else deeper still – a sharper tang. She felt … left out? I remembered that from when Banjo had been taking all the attention when we were tiny puppies.
It must have been difficult for Lucy, living with a brother who was sometimes poorly. Illness takes up a lot of attention in a family – Katie had warned us about this. I figured Lucy might need someone to show her some special attention, and there’s nothing more special than a dog’s jaw resting on your lap! I brought my head up and rested my soft, furry chin on her thighs as she turned the pages. Noah might be my owner, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t spare a few moments for Lucy too.
