by Duncan Ball
‘Come to think of it, you invented a better medicine bottle top not long ago.’
‘Yes. The Tricky Twist Medicine Bottle Company asked me to come up with a new one. I invented a whole new system based on a different principle. It’s a real doozey, if I do say so myself. Almost no one could get the tops off. And Tricky Twist loved it!’ Dr Trifle said proudly.
‘Oh, I give up. This silly bottle top is making my headache worse,’ Mrs Trifle said putting it back in the medicine cabinet. ‘Goodness me! We have to be at Aunt Jetty’s garden party straight away. You’d better change those grubby clothes and get into some respectable ones.’
Selby sneezed three sneezes as the Trifles drove away. He had a heavy cold and he felt terrible. His throat was sore, he had a fever, and he’d sneezed his way through a whole box of tissues.
‘I hate being sick,’ he thought. ‘When Dr Trifle is sick he gets to lie around and Mrs Trifle brings him lots of hot drinks and goodies to eat. Nobody ever does that for me. I just have to suffer. It’s not fair.’
Selby sneezed his way through the last of the tissues and then looked in the medicine cabinet.
‘Now where’s some medicine to stop my nose from running? Crumbs, there’s nothing here,’ Selby thought. ‘I know, I’ll ring the chemist shop and see if I can get them to bring some runny nose medicine.’
Selby picked up the telephone and dialled.
‘I’ll pretend I’m Mrs Trifle,’ he thought. ‘With a cold like this I won’t even have to imitate her voice because everyone sounds weird when they have a cold.’
‘Hello, Kline and Vine Pharmacy, Barry Kline speaking,’ the voice said. ‘How may I help you?’
Selby cleared his throat and then said, ‘This is Mrs Trifle,’ only it came out sounding more like ‘Dizziz bizziz Trifle.’
‘I beg your pardon? Oh, Mrs Trifle! What a strange voice you have.’
‘Bardon be but I hab a bizerable code.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I bill.’
‘You bill? I’m sorry but I don’t quite understand. Did you say that you bill? You don’t bill us — we bill you.’
‘I said, “Ibe … ill".’
‘Oh, I’m ill. I mean, you’re ill. Oh, sorry to hear it, Mrs Trifle. What can we do for you?’
‘I deed sub bedicine.’
‘You … deed … sub … bedicine,’ the man repeated very slowly. ‘If it’s deeds you want you should be ringing an estate agent, not a chemist.’
‘Dough.’
‘Did you say, “dough"?’
‘Dough — I mean yes.’
‘We don’t have dough here, Mrs Trifle. Have you thought of ringing the bakery? Or if it’s a sub you’re after you could ring the navy,’ the chemist added with a giggle. ‘Oh, sorry, that was a terrible joke.’
Selby could feel himself getting hotter and hotter as he struggled to make himself understood. He spoke as slowly and clearly as he could.
‘I said, I … deed … sub … bedicine.’
‘You’re sick in bed, is that it?’
‘Dough. I … deed … sub … bills.’
‘You’re still ill, is that it? Well, you can’t expect to get better in a minute.’
‘You don’t understab — I deed bills!’
‘Bills.’
‘Diddle dings do put in by bouth.’
‘"Diddle dings do put in by bouth.” Hmmm,’ the chemist said.
‘Bills! Bills!’
‘Oh, pills! Why didn’t you say so? What sort of pills do you want?’
‘He understands me at last!’ Selby thought. ‘Now let’s see if he can understand this: I deed somedink do keeb by doze frub ruddick.‘
‘Now you’ve really lost me, Mrs Trifle.’
‘I hab a ruddy doze!’
‘Ruddy toes? Let’s see now, ruddy — that means red, doesn’t it? Red toes. I know, you’ve got athlete’s foot! We can give you some powder for that.’
‘Dough! — I bead, degative. Ibe got a code in da doze.’
‘Code? I’m not a spy, I’m a chemist,’ Mr Kline chuckled. ‘Or do you want to doze? Maybe you need some sleeping pills. You’ll need a prescription for those, I’m afraid.’
‘You don’t understab be,’ Selby said with a sneeze.
‘Someone stabbed you?’
‘I hab a code in da doze! ‘ Selby squealed.
‘I know! You’ve got a cold in the nose and you want some pills for it, is that it?’
‘Spot od.’
‘Good. A bedicine company — I mean a medicine company — just sent me a sample of a new, super good runny nose medicine. You can be the first to try it. It’s called Super Snot Stop. Not the prettiest name in the world but I guess it tells you what it does. There are two pills in the bottle. Just take one and your nose will stop running immediately. The pills are very strong. Anyway, don’t bother getting out of bed, I’ll swing by and drop the bottle in your letterbox.’
‘Dank kew. You’re berry kide.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I said, “You’re berry kide,"’ Selby repeated.
‘Yes, that’s my name, Barry Kline. Did you want something else?’
‘Debbor bide.’
‘Deborah Vine is my partner. Do you want to speak to her?’
‘Dope.’
‘Well, you could at least be polite about it. Just because I couldn’t understand you doesn’t mean I’m a dope. Goodness me, Mrs Trifle. Oh, well, I guess we all get a bit cranky when we’re sick. I’ll drop the pills around straight away.’
‘Dank you.’
Click.
‘Poor Mr Kline,’ Selby thought. ‘I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings.’
Fifteen sneezes later Selby watched as the chemist dropped the bottle of pills in the letterbox and then drove away. In a second, Selby had snatched the Super Snot Stop bottle and brought it into the house.
‘Thank goodness,’ he thought. ‘Now to get the top off this thing.’
Selby struggled with it for a minute without success.
‘This must be another one of those child-proof thingies,’ he thought. ‘Maybe you have to push it down and then turn it.’
Selby pushed and turned and pulled and turned and even tried to slide it to the side but the bottle wouldn’t open.
‘This is driving me bonkers!’ Selby thought. ‘This isn’t only child-proof and people-proof, it’s even pet-proof! I’d ring Barry Kline again and ask him how to open it but it’s no good — he’d never understand me.’
Selby threw the bottle on the hard kitchen floor only to have it bounce back up. He threw it again even harder and it bounced around the walls until it hit him on the head and dropped to the floor.
‘Youch! I’ll fix you!’ Selby said with a sneeze. ‘Where’s Dr Trifle’s big rock-smashing hammer?’
But before Selby could even think to blink he heard two big sneezes — and neither of them was his. He spun around to see Dr and Mrs Trifle coming through the door.
‘No wonder I had a headache,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘It was a cold coming on. Now I’m — ah-choo! — all sneezy.’
‘Me — choo! — too,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘But look!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed, picking up the medicine bottle. ‘It’s that new Super Snot Stop that’s had all the ads on TV. Where did it come from?’
‘I have no idea. I don’t remember buying it.’
‘You don’t remember lots of things, dear. But never mind, let’s see if it works as well as it’s supposed to.’
‘You’ll never find out because you’ll never get the lid off,’ Selby thought as he watched Mrs Trifle struggling with the bottle top.
‘Here, let me try,’ Dr Trifle said, taking the bottle and opening it easily.
‘Crumbs,’ Selby thought. ‘How’d he do that?’
‘How’d you do that?’ Mrs Trifle asked.
‘First I pressed down, then I turned it one turn in the wrong direction, and then I pulled up and pushed it to the si
de. Nothing to it,’ Dr Trifle said, popping a pill into his mouth and handing the other to Mrs Trifle.
‘But how on earth did you know to do that?’
‘Simple: the bottle top is based on my new system — the one I came up with for the Tricky Twist Medicine Bottle Company,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Hmmm, this Super Snot Stop is great. I can feel my sniffles disappearing already.’
‘So can I,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘But tell me, how is anyone else supposed to figure out how to get the top off the bottle?’
‘Well you know how I said that little kids were getting smarter and smarter?’ Dr Trifle asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Well they still can’t read,’ Dr Trifle explained. ‘And the directions about how to take the bottle top off are written on the label. Nothing to it.’
‘Goodness me,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You’re right. It’s all written right here. I guess I would have noticed it sooner or later.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Selby thought as he sneezed another sneeze and crept away to lie down. ‘The one thing I could have done — read the label — I didn’t do. I give up.’
SELBY’S HIGH Q
Selby’s worst nightmare had come true. He was in a special laboratory being studied by a scientist.
It all began when Mrs Trifle’s cousin Wilhemina came to town to judge the Bogusville Canine Society’s annual dog show. As usual she stayed with the Trifles. When she went off in the morning she left a page torn out of a magazine lying on the coffee table. Later, when Selby was alone, he noticed it and read the writing at the top: Check Your Dog’s IQ.
‘An IQ test,’ Selby said, grabbing a pencil and writing his name at the top of the form. ‘I’ve always wanted to test my IQ. Hmmm, I wonder what IQ stands for. I know it has something to do with intelligence. That must be the I bit. I wonder about the Q. Let’s see how I go.’
One by one, Selby read through the questions: Can your dog sit? He quickly ticked the box that said ‘Yes’. Can your dog shake hands? Yes. Roll over? Yes. Does your dog know left from right? Yes, of course. Does your dog know which way is up? Yes. If I didn’t, how could I get up in the morning? Stupid question. Can your dog chase sticks and bring them back? Yes — if I feel like it. Does your dog know where his food is kept? Yes, of course, you nong. Every dog knows that. Does your dog like music? Yes.
Selby continued ticking the answers as the questions got harder and harder. The final question was: Does your dog know the sound of your car’s engine? ‘Not really, but I’m going to say yes anyway,’ Selby thought.
Selby finished the quiz and then added up the score.
‘One hundred and ten,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what category that puts me in. Oh, good. “Dog Genius.” Absolutely true, if I do say so myself.’
Selby was about to erase all his answers when suddenly Cousin Wilhemina opened the front door and dashed into the loungeroom.
‘Where did I leave that thing?’ she said, looking around. ‘Oh, there it is.’
Wilhemina grabbed the IQ test and was about to dash out again when she glanced down at it and stopped in her tracks.
‘Someone’s already filled it in,’ she said. ‘It must have been Dr Trifle. Hmmm, one hundred and ten! Wow! I wonder which dog he was testing. Surely not old dumb dumb here,’ she said looking over at Selby. ‘Good grief! The Trifles only have one dog it must be him! One hundred and ten! Unbelievable! And all these years I thought he was too dumb to come in out of the rain.’
Cousin Wil looked at Selby and then her face lit up.
‘Come with me, pooch,’ she said, grabbing him by the collar. ‘I’m going to get you tested properly.’
‘What have I done?’ Selby thought as the woman dragged him into her car. ‘I may be super smart but filling out that dog IQ test was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done!’
Within minutes Cousin Wilhemina was pulling Selby into the Dog IQ Testing Tent at the dog show and handing his IQ test to a startled Dog Resources scientist. The woman looked over the form for a moment and then looked up.
‘I can’t believe it!’ she exclaimed. ‘We get a few smart dogs but this little guy is smarter than I am!’
‘That wouldn’t be difficult,’ Selby thought.
‘Are you sure this is true?’ the scientist asked. ‘Are you sure someone wasn’t just playing a joke on you?’
‘Well it was filled out by either Dr or Mrs Trifle and they wouldn’t joke about a thing like this,’ Cousin Wil said. ‘Unless you believe that the dog filled it out himself,’ she added with a long, screaming laugh.
‘Oh, yes, that’s a good one,’ the scientist laughed back. ‘Then I guess we can only do one thing.’
‘What is that?’
‘I’ll have to send him off to the National Dog Testing Laboratory in Canberra to be studied by the best Dog Resources scientists in the country. Do you have any idea what a terrific sheep dog a fellow like this would make? Why, he could not only round up the sheep but shear them too. But forget shearing: he could do almost anything a human could do. We could breed a whole race of hard-working, super-smart dogs and then we people could sit back and take it easy while the dogs did all the work.’
‘That’s what you think,’ Selby thought. ‘Oh, woe, how will I ever get out of this?’
‘But I’d better do another quick test just to make sure before I ship him to Canberra,’ the scientist said.
A tiny smile formed at the corners of Selby’s mouth. He watched patiently as the scientist placed two bowls on the floor — one was empty and one was filled with wonderful smelling food.
‘I’ll play dumb,’ Selby thought as he licked the empty bowl, ‘and I’ll be back home in a few minutes.’
‘Hmmm, that’s very strange,’ Cousin Wil said. ‘I would’ve thought that even the dumbest dog would go for the food.’
‘Not necessarily,’ the scientist said. ‘This is why it takes an expert like me to check these results. A very smart dog might be very particular about his food. This might not be the sort of food he likes. By licking the empty bowl he’s sending a clear message to us that he wants better food or nothing at all.’
‘How interesting,’ Cousin Wil said.
‘If you think that was interesting,’ Selby thought. ‘Just wait.’
For the next fifteen minutes the scientist gave Selby test after test. When she told him to sit he just stared at her. When she put out her hand and said, ‘Shake!’ he licked it. When she tried to get him to roll over, he got halfway over and then lay on his back pretending to sleep. The tests went on and on with Selby failing every one.
‘Now for the rain test,’ she said.
‘The rain test?’ Cousin Wil asked.
‘Yes, watch.’
The scientist got out a kennel and put it next to Selby. Next she turned on a garden hose and pointed it up in the air. Selby just sat there letting the freezing water soak him.
‘The dumbest thing I can think of doing is to just stand here instead of going into that nice, dry, warm doghouse,’ he thought. ‘And that’s what I’m going to do even if I catch pneumonia! I’m going to fail this test even if it kills me!’
Finally the scientist shook her head and turned off the water.
‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Cousin Wilhemina said finally. ‘Whoever filled out that form must have been joking. Selby is as thick as a brick. We won’t waste your time any longer. Come along, Selby.’
‘I knew that if I really used my brain I could fail,’ Selby thought. ‘I hope she takes me home straight away. I can’t stand dog shows.’
‘Waste my time? Are you kidding? This is fantastic!’ the scientist shrieked. ‘This calls for some serious testing.’
‘But why would you want to test a dog that’s obviously as dull as ditchwater?’ Cousin Wil asked.
‘The point is that in order to get our dog IQ tests right we need to test dogs that are really smart, of course, but we also need at least one that’s an absolute bonehead. And this dog is the biggest num
bskull I’ve ever come across. Why he doesn’t even have enough sense to come in out of the rain! I’m going to send him off to the National Dog Testing Lab in Canberra for a year of testing!’
‘What have I done?!’ Selby thought. ‘I shouldn’t have tried to fail everything. I should have just tried to be average. I don’t want to be tested by stupid scientists for a whole year! They might even keep me for another year! Maybe I should talk to this nitwit in plain English and explain what I did and why I did it. What am I saying?! Then they’d want to keep me forever!’
Suddenly a voice boomed behind Selby.
‘Did I hear you say that you wanted to send Selby somewhere for testing? You’ll do no such thing!’
There, standing in the doorway, was Mrs Trifle looking very angry.
‘Why have you brought Selby here Cousin Wil,’ she demanded.
‘I-I-I because he was smart,’ her cousin stammered. ‘Only it turns out he’s really very stupid.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Mrs Trifle said, grabbing Selby’s collar. ‘He’s not smart and he’s not stupid. He’s just normal and I’m not having him sent away anywhere. Come along home, Selby.’
‘Oh, thank you for rescuing me!’ Selby thought, breathing a sigh of relief as he trotted after Mrs Trifle. ‘I’m never going to take another one of those silly tests again. I still don’t know what IQ stands for but for me it means I quit!’
Paw note: Some dogs do know the sound of their owners’ car engines. Not me. I’m not into cars.
S
SELBY DOOMED
Selby’s secret was out.
Well, nearly out. Selby was one mouse click from ruin. In a fraction of a second, Selby’s secret would be there on the computer screen in huge letters for the Trifles to see. Mrs Trifle cupped her hand over the mouse and started to click.
Selby waited for the terrible moment. He closed his eyes. Hot tears ran down his cheeks. His body shuddered. He began to whimper and whine.
‘Gulp. This is it,’ he thought. ‘My carefree life is over. Goodbye freedom. Goodbye peace and quiet. Hello being all over TV all the time. Hello not being able to walk down the street without people talking to me. Hello having to be studied by scientists. Hello having to work! Oh woe woe woe.’
