“Smelly is good in this instance,” Alex said with a grin. “So, let’s give this a try. How about we tip some of the food into our kennel and put in his toy as well. That ought to reassure him that it’s OK to clamber aboard.”
“Maybe a slipper, too,” Emily suggested. “He was playing with those yesterday morning. He really loves them.”
“Okey-doke,” said Alex.
Emily shook the box of puppy food so that Pickle could hear it and tipped a handful into the bottom of the kennel. Then she added his cuddly bear and the slipper with chew marks on it for good measure.
“OK, guys, second time lucky,” said Pete, the sandy-haired fire officer. He noticed Jack staring wide-eyed at the winch and beckoned him over. “Want to press the special button, buddy?”
“Yes, please,” Jack said at once. Pete showed him what to do and Jack solemnly pressed the switch to start the winch’s motor.
With Gary shining the torch and Alex guiding the cable, the kennel was gently lowered down, down, down into the hole once more. “Let’s hope this works,” Mum said.
“Of course it will,” Dad replied. “Like anyone’s been able to resist the smell of my feet before!”
Emily barely heard them. She could hardly stand the anticipation.
“All right… we’re down,” Gary said after a few moments. “Stop the winch.”
Pete stopped the motor and once again, everyone fell silent while they waited. Would Pickle trust the kennel enough to step inside now?
“That’s it, boy,” Gary called coaxingly. “Smells good, huh? That’s your breakfast, that is. Go on, try a bit.”
Emily was crossing her fingers so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Come on, Pickle, she urged in her head. I know this must be a bit weird and scary but it’ll be OK – I promise!
Gary sucked in a breath and Emily leaned forward. “He’s sniffing the food,” Gary reported in a low voice. “Yep, he’s moving towards it, he. . .” Then he broke off.
“What? What’s happening?” Emily asked anxiously.
“He’s not daft, your dog, is he?” Gary said with a sigh in his voice. “He still doesn’t quite trust us. He’s standing there with just his head in the kennel, leaning forward to get the food. He’s too suspicious to step right into it.”
“We could try lifting the kennel a tiny way off the ground,” Alex suggested. “See if he decides to scramble in fully so that he can keep eating. He’s obviously hungry.”
“Let’s try,” Gary agreed. “Could we go up a few centimetres, please?”
Pete pressed the button to start the motor on the winch, and almost immediately turned it off again.
Gary shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Now he’s backed away again. Drop it back down, please.”
Alex turned to Emily. “Maybe if you encourage him,” he suggested. “Call down to him.”
Emily nodded. “Pickle, where’s the slipper?” she called. “Where’s the slipper, Pickle?”
They heard a faint woof in reply.
“He knows your voice,” Gary said. “He’s looking up the side of the shaft, trying to see you.”
“Find the slipper, Pickle! Where is it?” Emily called again.
“I don’t think he understands,” Gary said, and Emily’s heart sank. Oh no! She had been so sure that the scent of Dad’s slipper and the cuddly toy would make her puppy realize that the little kennel was safe. He wasn’t usually a shy or nervous kind of dog, but he obviously felt confused by this strange situation and didn’t know what to do. She could see why. If she’d fallen down a hole, she might be in two minds about climbing into a strange box that kept moving up and down, too.
“Go on, boy,” she tried again. “Get in the kennel, it’s fine!”
The words seemed to echo around her head, reminding her of how she’d been teaching Pickle to get into his basket with a similar command. Wait. . . Maybe that was it?
“I wonder if. . .” she began, then stopped. Her thoughts were spinning around so fast it took her a moment to form them into proper sentences. “I was just thinking, I’ve been teaching Pickle to get into his basket at home,” she said, the words tumbling out. “If we made the Vari Kennel look a bit like his basket – you know, by putting in his blanket and the toy – and then I shout, ‘Get in your basket!’, he might understand and get in.”
Gary and Alex looked at each other. “Not a bad idea,” Alex said. “Let’s haul this up again and try it.”
“Or, even better,” Mum said, “we could send down his actual basket. It’s not very big – it should fit in the kennel.” She smiled at Emily. “I brought it in the car in case he wanted to cuddle up in it on the way home.”
Emily hugged Mum. “Brilliant! Shall I go and get it?”
“I will,” said Mum. “I think you’re needed here with Pickle.”
Mum hurried back to the car while the kennel was smoothly winched up to the surface again.
“What’s he doing now?” Emily asked Gary, who was still peering into the shaft.
“He’s lying down with his head on his front paws, looking a bit sorry for himself,” Gary replied. “Hey, don’t give up, boy. We’ll get you out,” he called down in a kind voice.
Emily glanced over at Mum, who was now running back towards them with Pickle’s basket in her arms. “Here she comes,” she said. Emily had butterflies in her tummy. She really hoped this new idea worked.
Mum and Emily set up Pickle’s basket just the way he liked it, with the snuggly blanket covering the base and his cuddly toy at the side. Then they tucked it into the kennel. It was a perfect fit, thank goodness.
“Third time lucky,” Pete said when they were ready. “Can you press the button for me again, please, Jack?”
Jack didn’t hesitate to do as he was asked, and once again the motor whirred and out spooled the rope.
The kennel disappeared from view and Emily crossed all the fingers she could possibly cross. She desperately hoped Pickle would know what to do this time!
“And… we’re down,” Gary said. “Thank you!”
Pete stopped the winch and they all waited again. “Get in your basket, Pickle,” Emily called. “Good boy, get in your basket!”
“He’s sniffing at it,” Gary said. “Try calling again.”
“Can I lie down like Gary?” Emily asked her parents. “Please? I won’t do anything silly. Maybe if Pickle can see me, that would help.”
“OK,” Mum decided. “I’ll hang on to your ankles, though. Just for my peace of mind.”
Emily got down on her front and edged closer to the mineshaft. She peeped over the edge and followed Gary’s torchlight to see Pickle right down at the bottom of the hole, cautiously sniffing his basket inside the kennel.
A little cry escaped her throat at the sight of him. He looked so far away and so tiny down there. “Hey, you,” she called down. “Hello, Pickle.”
Pickle looked up – and barked excitedly to see her face. His feathery tail whisked back and forth at great speed.
“Yes, it’s me,” she said smiling. “I’m all the way up here!” She took a deep breath, hoping she hadn’t made her puppy too excited to listen properly. “Now, Pickle. I need you to be really clever for me. Can you get in your basket, Pickle? Get in your basket!”
He looked at the basket and back up at Emily. Even through the gloom, she could see a questioning look in his eyes, as if he were saying, Are you sure? You seriously want me to get in that?
“He understood you,” Gary said. “He’s definitely thinking about it. Try sounding really confident about it this time. Don’t ask him – tell him.”
Emily nodded. She was starting to feel a bit light-headed from peering into the mineshaft and was very glad to have Mum still holding tightly on to her. It was a long, long way down. “Get in your basket, Pickle!” she said in the sing-s
ong voice she used for commands. She made herself sound as confident as she could. “Get in your basket!”
Pickle gave a little woof and then put his front paws in the basket. “Good boy,” Emily called. “Clever boy. Get in your basket, that’s it. In your basket!”
She could hardly breathe with excitement as, with one last look up at his mistress, Pickle gingerly stepped into the Vari kennel.
“Good boy! Now sit! Sit down! And stay!” Emily’s heart thumped. She was half expecting Pickle to jump straight out of the basket, as he’d done so many times before, but to her amazement, he stayed inside. She could just about see him turning around in there as if he was making himself comfortable.
“We’ve got him,” Gary said softly, and patted Emily on the back. “Well done, love. Right, let’s haul him up, nice and slow. We mustn’t frighten him now.”
Pete pressed the button on the winch and the kennel jerked slightly as the harness tightened to take Pickle’s weight. “Good boy,” Emily called encouragingly. “Stay there, Pickle. Stay!”
The time it took for the kennel to be hoisted slowly back up to the surface felt like the longest moments of Emily’s life. She was terrified Pickle might take fright and leap out of the basket again, so she kept a steady stream of encouraging chatter as gradually, gradually, the kennel rose up and up. “You’re so clever,” she told him. “What a good boy. What a clever boy to sit and stay in the basket!”
The kennel drew closer and closer and now Pickle’s little face was clearly visible as he looked out of the kennel door, still sitting in the basket. As soon as he saw Emily he gave a loud woof and his eyes shone with happiness. “We mustn’t let him jump towards you,” Alex warned as it came almost to the surface. “The big worry is that he’ll jump out again and hurt himself. We need him to sit tight until we’ve got him all the way up. Stay there, Pickle. Good boy!”
Pickle blinked as he saw daylight but remained sitting safely in the basket. “Nearly there,” Emily said happily. “Stay, Pickle. Good boy!”
Pickle woofed softly. Through the holes in the side of the kennel, Emily saw his tail wagging.
Finally, the winch had brought the kennel all the way up to the top of the hole, and Alex was able to guide it carefully to the surface. Emily and Gary wriggled back from the edge of the mineshaft while Alex unclipped the kennel from the harness. Then he lifted it a safe distance from the mineshaft and set it gently down on the ground.
“Pickle!” Emily cried, putting her hand inside the kennel to pat him. He licked her fingers, then clambered shakily out. Emily rested her head on his dusty fur and hugged him, while he wagged his tail faster than ever. “Oh, Pickle,” she said again, a huge lump in her throat. “I missed you!”
“Well done, everyone,” said Pete behind her. “Fantastic teamwork! Jen, let’s get some fencing around this hole, quick, to stop anyone else having an accident.”
Jack, Mum and Dad crowded around Emily and Pickle, all trying to pat him and stroke him at once. Mum had tears in her eyes.
“Aww.” Gary laughed. “I love a happy ending. Well done, Emily – you did great. Now, we’d better check Pickle over to make sure he’s OK. He should definitely see a vet later to give him a proper examination, but we’ll do what we can here.”
“Let’s give him some water, too,” Alex said, pouring some into a bowl. “He must be dehydrated by now.”
As soon as Alex set the bowl of water down on the grass for him, Pickle bent to have a long splashy drink. While he drank, Gary checked his pulse and breathing, then gently felt his legs and back.
“He’s still shivering,” Alex noticed. “Let’s get a nice warm blanket around you, fella.”
“I can’t detect any obvious breaks,” Gary said as Alex went to fetch a blanket, “and he’s moving OK. Bit of grazing on his front paws here and a few bumps and bruises.” He lifted Pickle’s head, gently opened his mouth and pressed a finger on his gum for a few seconds. Then he took his finger away and nodded. “Yep – the gums are pale and not regaining their colour. He’s in shock,” he said. “Hardly surprising.”
Alex draped a thick red blanket around Pickle and patted him. “There you are. We’ll soon have you warmed up, boy.”
“His heartbeat’s rather fast,” Gary went on, “although again, that’s understandable. His breathing sounds clear, though.”
Emily grinned. “But he’s all right? After that gigantic fall? I can’t believe it!”
“He’s a miracle pup.” Mum laughed. “Tough as old boots, aren’t you, Pickle?”
“Like I said, he should be looked over properly by a vet today,” Gary said. “He almost certainly needs some painkillers and probably needs those grazes bandaging, too. But generally speaking, he’ll be fine.” He scratched Pickle behind the ears.
Emily saw Mum and Dad exchange a look. “Hmm,” said Mum. “I’m pretty sure our vet is closed on Sundays.”
“Do you know if there are any around here that might be open?” Dad asked.
“Well, of course there’s the RSPCA centre down the road,” Gary replied. “They have a clinic that is definitely open – I reckon that’s your best bet.”
“Thanks,” said Dad. “I know where it is. We’ll take him over there now.”
Emily thanked the fire officers, who were putting up some temporary metal fences with large warning signs around the hole. “Our pleasure,” Jen told her. “I’m glad your puppy’s going to be OK.”
“Me too,” Emily said. Then she carefully lifted Pickle back into his basket, which was still in the kennel, and Gary showed her how to fasten the door.
“Just leave the Vari Kennel and the blanket at the RSPCA centre when you’ve finished with them,” he told her.
“Thanks for everything,” Dad said to Alex and Gary as they packed their equipment back into the 4 x 4.
“Yes, thank you,” Emily said. “From me and Pickle.”
Alex grinned. “Glad to help,” he said.
The journey to the RSPCA centre didn’t take long and, once there, Dad carried the kennel to the reception area, with Emily, Mum and Jack close behind.
“Hello, how can I help?” asked the receptionist behind the desk.
Dad explained the situation, and Emily chipped in with extra details. Now that Pickle was safely by her side, the enormity of what had happened was just starting to hit her. She started to feel quite upset as they explained to the receptionist how they’d had to rescue her puppy after his fall.
“My goodness!” cried the receptionist. “You have been through it, haven’t you? What a story. Have a seat in the waiting area and I’ll get one of our vets to look at Pickle as soon as possible, OK?”
“Thanks,” Emily said.
Mum put her arm around her as they sat and waited. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Emily nodded. It was hard to explain how she felt. It was as if she’d kept herself going and going for all this time, with hardly a chance to think straight. All of a sudden, now that she could stop worrying so much, she felt as if someone had deflated her and let all of her energy leak away.
Pickle gave a low whine in the dog carrier as he saw a cat in a basket nearby. The cat hissed and fluffed up its fur in reply.
“It’s all right, Pickle-pops,” Emily soothed. “Take no notice.”
Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait long to see the vet. Her name was Ayesha, and she had long dark hair in a ponytail. “Let’s have a look at this daredevil pup,” she said with a smile.
Pickle seemed nervous at being in the vet’s room. His eyes were big and anxious as he stared around, and his ears went down when Ayesha carefully lifted him on to her table. “Hello, Pickle, don’t worry,” she said in a soft voice. “I know there are some strange smells in here, from other animals who’ve been in before you, but I promise you’re safe with me.”
Emily reached out to strok
e him as he made a small whining sound in the back of his throat. “Good boy,” she told him.
Ayesha checked him all over very thoroughly. She gave him a painkilling injection, which she said would make him feel better very quickly, and a first dose of antibiotics. Then she cleaned the grazes on his front legs, dabbed in some antiseptic cream and wound bandages around them, then swabbed at one of his paws where it looked sore.
“The good news is, he’s going to be absolutely fine,” she said after a while. “No broken bones and no serious damage. He might feel a bit tender for a few days, so he should take it easy, and you’ll need to finish the course of antibiotics, just to make sure those grazes don’t get infected.” She smiled and gave Pickle a friendly pat. “Other than that, he’ll be back to his usual self in no time.”
“Thank you,” Emily said happily, giving Pickle a hug. She quite wanted to hug Ayesha too, but managed to stop herself.
Dad laughed. “Back to his usual self?” he said, ruffling Pickle’s fur. “I’d better hide my slippers, then – not to mention all the other shoes. First things first, though. Let’s go home.”
WOOF!, went Pickle, sounding as if he thoroughly agreed, and everyone laughed.
Pickle was so exhausted after his adventures that he slept on Emily’s lap all the way home in the car. Emily, meanwhile, couldn’t stop smiling.
Once they were back, she unclipped her seatbelt carefully and scooped up her dozing puppy to carry him inside. It felt as if they had been away for ages.
“Oh Emily, you’re back! And there’s Pickle!” came two voices just then. She looked up to see Mr and Mrs Turner hurrying over with big smiles on their faces. “Is he OK? We heard he’d taken a tumble and got stuck down a hole, poor little thing!”
Puppy Gets Stuck Page 5
