The Secret Dog

by Joe Friedman

  They could hear the baby blackbird’s distressed ‘cheep, cheep’. Yvonne shifted from foot to foot, her forehead wrinkled with worry. ‘Will the mother come?’

  Josh put his finger to his mouth and kept his eyes on the yellow tub.

  After what seemed like ages, a brown female bird flew onto the branch above the makeshift nest. She inspected the tub. Then she hopped down and stood on its side. She lent over, and they could see her regurgitate a worm. It disappeared into the baby bird’s mouth.

  Josh glanced at Yvonne, suddenly worried she might be upset at the sight. But Yvonne was unmoved. Josh remembered seeing her driving around in the vet’s brightly painted van with him, probably doing rounds. She’d probably seen a lot worse that a bird vomiting up worms . . .

  He smiled, pleased at figuring this out, and at having another successful rescue under his belt. But suddenly, he felt awkward. He didn’t know what to say to Yvonne.

  ‘I’ve got chores,’ he told her. And without another word, he ran off.

  He caught a glimpse of Yvonne – her mouth was open and her eyes wide, as if she’d been shocked by something. Not him, surely . . .

  * * *

  As they ran along the old river, the light rain continued.

  ‘I saved a bird today,’ Josh told Reggae. ‘And this girl from my class helped.’ Reggae looked up at Josh. ‘I think it went okay.’

  It started to rain in earnest. Josh examined the sky, a heavy grey in all directions.

  ‘It’s settling in,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what you remember back at the pen.’

  Chapter 8

  The following day after school, Josh returned to the woods to see how the baby bird was doing. As he approached the oak where he and Yvonne had hidden the previous day, he was surprised to see a glimpse of a school uniform. Someone was already there. He approached quietly.

  ‘Oh!’ Yvonne exclaimed. ‘I didn’t hear you coming! I ran all the way here because I wanted to see how our bird was doing!’

  ‘It’s not our bird,’ Josh snapped. ‘It’s mine.’ It was! The fourth he’d rescued this spring!

  Yvonne reacted sharply. ‘My bird, my bird,’ she said imitating him and sounding like a three-year-old.

  Josh blushed.

  ‘I thought you were different,’ Yvonne said, now sounding hurt and turning away from him.

  Josh didn’t understand. How could she be angry and hurt at the same time? And what did she mean when she said she’d thought he was different? They’d barely exchanged a word before yesterday. Surely she’d never given him a moment’s thought . . .

  ‘I’m not different,’ he said.

  Yvonne didn’t turn towards him to speak. ‘You feed the school rabbit and guinea pig when the teacher forgets. You tickle their tummies when you think no one’s looking. And you told that support teacher off when he pulled the rabbit’s ear too hard. That was really brave!’

  ‘I didn’t think . . . anyone noticed,’ Josh said quietly. He always felt invisible at school. Unless he was being told off.

  ‘Well, you were wrong,’ Yvonne said, still facing away.

  Josh thought a moment. ‘Maybe I was wrong about the bird too,’ he said softly. ‘You did help me rescue her.’

  Yvonne turned to face him. ‘Do you mean it?’

  Josh nodded. ‘I’m just used . . . to doing things by myself.’

  Yvonne pointed to the tub nest. ‘The mother comes every couple of minutes to feed her.’

  After a few minutes, Josh said, ‘It’s not just the mother. It’s the father too. He’s the black one with the yellow beak. There!’

  Yvonne kept her eye on the nest. ‘You’re right! You know a lot about birds.’

  ‘I spend a lot of time watching them,’ Josh said. ‘You have to if you want to give them what they need.’

  ‘You’re good at that?’ Yvonne asked.

  ‘With animals,’ Josh admitted. ‘I’m not very good at figuring out people.’

  Yvonne smiled, as if she knew what Josh was talking about. ‘What will happen to the fledgling?’

  ‘She’ll be ready to leave the nest soon,’ Josh said.

  ‘Oh,’ Yvonne said, disappointed.

  ‘She’ll still be there tomorrow,’ Josh reassured her.

  ‘Can I come and watch her after school?’ Yvonne asked. Her voice had become almost inaudible.

  ‘Of course,’ Josh said. ‘She’s your bird too!’

  Yvonne gave him a shy smile. For a brief moment, Josh had a wild, unreasonable thought: Maybe this girl could become his friend. But then he pushed it out of his mind.

  * * *

  The next day, as usual, Josh had rushed back to Reggae’s shed to spend time with her at lunchtime. But he’d returned to school early, because he had to try to look up his English homework on the computer in the library. They didn’t have one at home.

  He didn’t notice Yvonne until she sat down next to him. ‘You weren’t at lunch,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’

  Josh was starving. But he shook his head. And hurriedly pressed the minimise icon on the screen. He didn’t want Yvonne to see the Help page he was looking at.

  But he was too late. ‘I can help you with English,’ Yvonne said. She added quickly, ‘If you want.’

  Josh shook his head. If Yvonne realised how thick he was, she’d never talk to him again.

  Luckily, Yvonne switched the subject. ‘You used to have lunch all the time. Six months ago you stopped. Why?’

  Josh didn’t know what to say. He skipped lunch because he needed the money for dog food. But he couldn’t tell her that . . .

  ‘It’s hard to explain.’

  Yvonne suddenly seemed very interested in the way the librarian was putting books onto the shelves. Had he been too sharp?

  ‘Honest, it’s not you,’ Josh added quickly.

  Yvonne turned back to him and nodded slightly.

  Josh had a thought and, after a moment, decided to chance saying it out loud.

  ‘Would you like to come to see our bird with me after school?’

  Yvonne smiled.

  * * *

  Two days later, the baby bird was standing on the side of the tub now, stretching her wings.

  ‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Yvonne said. ‘Just think: she wouldn’t be there if we hadn’t rescued her!’

  For a moment, Josh was annoyed at the ‘we’. But he had to admit it had been fun watching the bird with Yvonne over the last couple of days. She’d even walked with him here today – that made it two days in a row. He’d miss all this now that the fledgling was about to fly its nest.

  ‘About lunch,’ he said. ‘I skip it on purpose. But you mustn’t tell anyone.’

  ‘I can keep a secret,’ Yvonne said firmly.

  Josh believed her. He couldn’t figure out her moods but he’d noticed something about her the last couple of days. He’d always thought of her as someone who talked with everyone and who had lots of friends. But actually, she spent most of her time alone, watching other people. Like him.

  ‘It’s just I need the money my uncle gives me for lunch. For something else.’

  Yvonne didn’t say anything. She just continued looking at the baby blackbird. Josh was pleased she wasn’t pressing him to say something.

  Did he really want to share his big secret? She might laugh, or even worse, tell. But if he didn’t take a risk now, he might never have the chance to talk to her again.

  Josh made a decision. He bent down and opened his school bag. ‘I buy this with it,’ he said quietly, holding up two tins.

  ‘You have a dog?’ Yvonne said in a hushed voice. ‘A secret dog?’

  Chapter 9

  The valley that Josh had chosen for training Reggae was as secret as Josh could find. It was surrounded by steep hills and it was off the usual walking routes on the commons.

  As Josh led Reggae up the hill towards it, he remembered the envelope in his school jacket. He shook his head. He didn’t need to think about his school
report until later. He had more important things to deal with.

  He was going to start to work with Reggae in the open.

  It had taken ten days to teach Reggae everything he could in the pen. It had been a real struggle rebuilding it over the winter. But it had been worth it to give Reggae a good first experience of working with sheep.

  The fencing of the pen was like a safety net for a trapeze artist. Now they’d have to do without it. Many young dogs found working with sheep in the open just too exciting. They raced around, scaring ewes and lambs. If he and Reggae didn’t work well together, the sheep would run away or even worse, hurt themselves on the uneven ground of the commons. If a single lamb was hurt, he, and more importantly, Reggae, would be in serious trouble.

  But there was no help for it. The Gathering was less than two months away. Usually it took more than a year of working a dog to prepare for it. They had no time to waste.

  * * *

  As they came over the hill, Josh saw that there was a group of eight sheep grazing near the bottom of the valley. Perfect.

  ‘Stop,’ Josh said firmly. Reggae stopped, though her eyes were focused on the sheep below. Josh attached a long lead, which would trail after Reggae as she ran. Josh knew sheep are much more relaxed about a dog on a lead than one running free.

  Josh led Reggae down the hill.

  ‘Heel.’

  He walked closer to the sheep. Then, about ten metres away, he stopped. Still looking towards the sheep, he commanded, ‘Away.’

  He’d taught Reggae this command in the pen. Would she remember what it meant?

  Reggae started off to her right, then circled behind the sheep. She was keeping a good distance, Josh observed. The sheep weren’t spooked. Josh moved to his left, keeping the same distance from the sheep. Reggae moved so that she was opposite him.

  The biggest ewe suddenly noticed Reggae. She started to move towards her. Reggae retreated and barked once. But the big sheep kept going, picking up speed as she went. Reggae went low and growled loudly. But the ewe didn’t stop. The rest of the group was following. Oh no! Why did they have to get such an aggressive sheep on their first run? Reggae would be trampled if she wasn’t careful!

  Reggae backed off again and barked several times. But the big ewe wasn’t going to stop for this noisy small dog. Reggae’s ears and tail went up. Josh knew that meant she was about to do something. But what?

  She leapt into the air and towards the fast-approaching ewe. And then, in mid-air, Reggae twisted her body and fastened her mouth onto the sheep’s nose. Josh held his breath. What was she doing?

  The ewe shook the dog from side to side. But Reggae wouldn’t let go. The big ewe stopped. Immediately, Reggae released her grip and backed off about five metres. She just stood there with her eyes fixed on the ewe. Josh realised that she had only held on a couple of seconds, even though it had seemed like much longer.

  The now wary ewe stood too, her flock behind her. Clearly she had underestimated this dog. But Reggae wasn’t barking or being aggressive. Indeed, she just stood there, eyes alert. Josh saw the ewe’s posture change, from challenging to calm. Reggae stayed alert, and her eyes glanced sideways.

  Josh could hardly believe what he’d just witnessed. Reggae had known exactly what she needed to do to turn the threatening situation around!

  ‘Come by,’ he commanded.

  Reggae took a small step to her left. The big ewe took note, then began to turn. Her flock followed. Josh circled to his left so his dog was directly opposite.

  Reggae crept forward. One of the lambs started to dance away from her mother. Reggae immediately moved a few steps to the lamb’s right, to stop her from getting away. Josh’s heart swelled with pride. He clicked approvingly. He’d heard men talk about natural dogs but he’d never seen one before.

  Reggae took a step forward. The big ewe lifted her head. Keeping low, Reggae crept forward again.

  ‘Away.’

  Reggae crept to her right, and then forward again, her ears flat against her head. When a skittish lamb started to leave the flock, she quickly moved to her left and the big ewe and her group of sheep moved towards Josh.

  This was the crucial time. Once the group started moving, any one of them could head off in another direction. Josh and Reggae had to keep them together. Another ewe started off to the left. Reggae immediately backed up and circled to her left, still crouching, ready for action. The ewe rejoined the group.

  Together, they manoeuvred the group towards Josh. When they were just a metre away, Josh said, ‘That’ll do.’ He walked backwards. Reggae retreated too.

  The group of sheep relaxed and started to graze.

  ‘Come,’ Josh ordered. He stroked Reggae’s cheek. Reggae closed her eyes with pleasure. Then she rolled onto the ground and Josh rubbed her tummy. ‘That was brilliant. You’re brilliant!’

  They repeated the process once more. This time, it went more smoothly. From the books Josh had read, he knew he mustn’t work her too long this early in her training. Anyway, he had chores to do at home.

  ‘Kennel,’ he said. Reggae just sat there, avoiding Josh’s eyes and staring in the direction of the sheep. She wanted to keep working. Josh didn’t repeat himself; he knew that would just teach Reggae it was okay not to obey the first time he gave a command. He simply got up and started to jog towards home. Reggae followed immediately.

  * * *

  As Reggae noisily consumed her dinner that evening, Josh said, ‘I have to admit that when I saw you bite that ewe’s nose, I thought you’d lost it. But it was exactly the right thing! And you released her as soon as she got the message. I guess if you’re a wee dog you’ve got to have ways to make the sheep listen.’

  Reggae was finished and came over for a stroke. Josh bent over and blew into her ear. Reggae licked his face. ‘That big ewe could’ve trampled you.’

  Suddenly, Josh recalled his mother singing. ‘The harder they come, the harder they fall . . .’ Her lilting, slightly out-of-tune voice came back to him. He couldn’t remember who sang the song. He looked at Reggae, surprised. Once again, she’d brought back memories of his mum.

  Josh embraced the black and white dog. It was starting to get dark beyond the shed door.

  It was then that he remembered the envelope in his rucksack. The one containing his school report. It was sealed and he hadn’t bothered opening it. He knew what was inside. Bad news. His uncle wouldn’t be happy.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back later, to say goodnight.’

  Under his breath, Josh added, ‘I hope.’

  Chapter 10

  Josh scrubbed the carrots in the sink with the worn bristle brush. They were uneven and gnarled. He didn’t know how they got the ones in the Co-op in the town so straight. One out of ten from their garden looked like that. Surely they didn’t throw the rest away . . .

  Without thinking, he whistled. After a moment he recognised the tune. It was ‘The Harder They Come’. He smiled to himself.

  He started chopping the now (relatively) clean carrots. His uncle came into the kitchen, wearing a clean shirt and trousers, his hair still wet from a freezing cold shower. His uncle thought these showers helped you avoid colds. He was a pretty good advertisement for this theory. He’d only been ill once in the five years Josh had known him.

  ‘What’s left to do?’ Calum asked.

  ‘We just need to clean and steam the broccoli,’ Josh replied. ‘I’ll cook the lamb steaks.’

  Calum nodded, went to the vegetable larder and pulled out a large head of broccoli. It did well on the island, so they ate quite a lot of it. Fortunately, Josh had grown to like it.

  ‘Broccoli’s very good for you,’ his uncle remarked as he put it under the cold tap to clean it.

  ‘Really?’ Josh replied. His uncle told him this almost every time they ate it, roughly a hundred times a year . . . He moved to the Aga, pulled down a frying pan, and added some oil to it. As it warmed, he went to the meat fridge and pulled
out some lamb steaks.

  The steaks, broccoli and carrots were ready more or less at the same time. Josh took out a couple of large plates from one of the dark cupboards, and put a steak on each. Calum added the vegetables, while Josh removed a couple of baked potatoes from inside the Aga’s oven. A feast. Calum liked having a special meal on Friday night.

  But Josh had a feeling he wasn’t going to enjoy it much.

  * * *

  They sat at the small round dining table in silence as usual. The envelope seemed be growing in the rear pocket of Josh’s jeans. He’d fluffed the chance to give it to his uncle before his shower.

  Now he had to wait until the meal was finished. And his uncle would be angry not only about what was in the report but also the delay in giving it to him. But as the fresh butter from his cousin’s farm melted onto the floury Maris Piper he’d collected earlier from the potato store in the cellar, the smell of the food and his hunger helped him put the envelope out of his mind.

  As he watched his uncle mopping up the remaining gravy on his now empty plate Josh knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. He pulled the now heavily crumpled envelope from his back pocket and handed it to his uncle. His hand shook. As soon as his uncle took the envelope, Josh pulled his hand away and sat on it.

  His uncle’s nose wrinkled at the sight of the scrunched-up envelope.

  ‘You should have taken better care of this. It’s from the school,’ he said, as he got up to search the sideboard for his reading glasses. When he found them, he went to his writing desk and found the paper knife he’d inherited from Josh’s grandfather. He came back to the kitchen table, sat down, and slit the envelope open. His big hands carefully took the paper from inside and unfolded it.

  Josh had forced himself to keep breathing as his uncle searched for his glasses, then the paper knife. But now the moment of truth had come. His uncle took his time reading (and probably re-reading) the report. Then he got up, went to the writing desk and pulled out Josh’s last report. He brought it back to the table, and put them side by side. He took his time comparing the two.