Walker

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Walker Page 4

by Shoo Rayner


  Stella tore after the sausage, which disappeared through the hole in the wall of straw bales. ‘Where’d it go?’ she panted, poking her nose into the square straw tunnel. ‘I saw it go this way!’

  ‘Stella!’ Walker panted, as he caught up with her. ‘It’s not real. It’s just a thing on a piece of rope.’ He caught her lead and walked her round behind the straw wall, to show her how it worked.

  The young men were in fits of laughter. ‘She’s fast!’ said Conn, the driver of the car. ‘You should let her compete.’

  Walker looked confused.

  ‘Drag racing,’ he explained. ‘We put a load of dogs at the bottom of the field and they all chase the rabbit.

  First one to the wall is the winner.’

  ‘Yeah! Yeah!’ Stella barked. ‘I wanna do it! I wanna do it! That sounds like so much fun.’

  ‘We have a final race where any size or shape of dog can join in,’ another of the young men said. ‘That’s amazing fun. The little ones go crazy for it!’

  ‘You don’t have a prettiest girl category, do you?’ Walker asked.

  Conn laughed. ‘Don’t be daft! Just big, medium and small pets and big and little working dogs. She’d be medium. She’s fast – she’s a winner, I reckon. See you later?’

  Walker looked at Stella. Her eyes shone and her tongue was falling out of the side of her mouth as she panted to get her breath back.

  ‘Nothing would stop her!’ Walker smiled. ‘Come on, girl. Let’s get you a drink.’

  Khan walked into the ring and stood to attention. He knew what to do.

  He’d known it was the fête this weekend. The signs had been there all week. Mrs Sowerby had been baking cakes and Mr Sowerby had been preparing him for the show, brushing Khan’s thick fur, talking to him in those irritating baby voices. ‘Does Khany-wany want to come to the show this year?’

  It was the one day in the year he could be bothered to get up and go out.

  He’d been entered into the old-timer’s category. That was embarrassing, but at least he didn’t have to do anything like the agility dogs did, leaping over fences and disappearing down tunnels. He just had to stand there and look proud. Khan was good at that.

  Arlington Wherewithal strode up and down, arms folded, assessing the qualities of all the dogs – staring them out. One by one, the dogs dropped to the ground and lay on the grass. Caramelina, a tall, willowy Afghan that Khan had known all his life, actually rolled over, closed her eyes and went to sleep.

  ‘It’s last dog standing,’ Khan told himself. He’d been to the show every year since he was in the cute puppy category. He knew all the tricks. ‘Attention! Stand up straight!’

  As Arlington’s ice blue eyes rested on Khan, the proud old dog seemed to stiffen his shoulders, puff his chest out and raise himself a few more centimetres. He stared back at Arlington and held his gaze. The dog next to him lay down. Khan stood firm – the last dog standing.

  Khan had done it many times before. All the rosettes he had won over the years were pinned up on a board in Mr Sowerby’s study.

  Arlington cheered as he placed the rosette on Khan’s collar. ‘Good old Khan! Still the champion,’ he laughed.

  That was it. Khan had done his duty and all the other dogs had seen him. He might be old and tired, but he was still a dog to be reckoned with.

  After the agility display, the show was over in the ring. Everyone moved to the other side of the field, to where the drag race was held. The little dogs lined up first. Their owners held them on the start line, while Mikey jiggled the ‘rabbit’ to get them excited. Ten little tails wagged at top speed as Mikey raised his arm and stuck his thumb up.

  They were off! Tumbling over each other, yapping and barking. Mostly they were pugs and miniature poodles. Nando, a chihuahua, surprised everyone. Not only did she win, she disappeared through the hole after the rabbit!

  The crowd loved it, cheering, whooping and whistling.

  Mikey unwound the rabbit rope for the next category. ‘Middle-sized dogs,’ he announced.

  ‘That’s us!’ Walker could feel Stella quivering with excitement as she strained against her leash. They lined up behind some planks of wood that had been laid down to make a start line.

  Mikey raised a hand, his thumb went up, the rabbit shot off up the hill, and Stella raced after it. There was no contest. Not only was she fast, she never took her eyes off the rabbit, until it disappeared into the hole and she crashed into the straw bales. The other dogs were yelping way behind her.

  Conn, who was standing by the bales, grabbed hold of her and waited for Walker to run up the hill. Stella was beside herself with excitement.

  ‘Did you see me! Did you? Did you?’

  ‘You were amazing!’ said Walker.

  Stella leaped into his arms and licked his face with her hot, dribbly tongue.

  ‘She’s so fast!’ said Conn, as he wrote down Stella’s name for the prize-giving. ‘Ain’t nothing gonna stop her, is it? Put her into the all-comers race at the end. I reckon she could win it too! There’s some water by the car. Don’t let her drink too much or it’ll slow her down.’

  ‘Thanks!’ said Walker.

  Stella lapped the water as if she hadn’t drunk any for a week. ‘That’s enough!’ Walker hissed.

  They watched the other dogs race, while they waited for the final event. The big dogs lumbered up the hill. Some were a bit ungainly, but they all enjoyed themselves. The working dogs, mostly sheepdogs and terriers, took it all very seriously!

  Soon it was time for the all-comers final race. The dogs ranged in size from little Nando to Horatio, an enormous black-and-white spotted Great Dane.

  Walker unclipped Stella’s lead and held on to her collar. A corgi broke loose, grabbed hold of the rabbit and ran off with it. The crowd were beside themselves with laugher!

  In the shade of a tree, bets were secretly being placed on Flash, a silver-grey lurcher who was all legs and hungry, searching eyes. Flash was the dog to beat.

  The corgi was rounded up, halfway up the hill, and the rabbit and rope were reset. The crowd hushed as Mikey raised his arm.

  In the back yard of the shop, Boss put his nose to the tiny gap in the fence. He couldn’t see what was happening because of the trees in between, but he could smell the excitement.

  He could smell all the dogs and hear their barks and cries. They were having such a good time, and here he was stuck in the back yard, guarding, waiting for a bad man to come over the fence. It was never going to happen. He was going to waste his whole life pacing up and down this stupid yard.

  He slunk back to his kennel, turned round three times, lay down with his head on his paws and sighed, deeply.

  Mikey’s arm quivered as he waited for the all-clear signal from the top of the hill.

  Walker kept his eye on the rabbit just as keenly as Stella, both waiting for the first twitch of the dummy’s ears that would be the sign to start the race. Stella coughed and strained as Walker held her collar to the last second.

  The car engine roared into life up the hill, Mikey’s thumb went up.

  ‘Steady, girl!’ Walker commanded. The other dogs in the line broke their concentration. That was a human talking! A human was speaking dog talk! Their heads turned to see who had spoken, just as the rabbit twitched and began its speedy, jerky journey up the hill.

  Walker released his grip and Stella was off like a rocket. ‘Go, Stella, go!’ he shouted after her.

  The other dogs, realising that they had been left behind, took up the chase, howling and baying. Walker and the other owners followed behind, some walking, some, like Walker, running as fast as they could to get to the top.

  ‘Rabbit! Rabbit!’ Stella panted. She never took her eyes of the dummy for a moment. She hurtled up the steepening slope, her heart pounding in her chest, her tongue flailing spit from the corner of her mouth.

  The rabbit bumped and jumped over the grass. The sound of the crowd disappeared. All she heard was the singing whine
of the rope as it dragged the dummy rabbit up the hill, tantalisingly just too fast for her to catch it.

  But she could hear the other dogs coming up behind her. The barking was still distant, but she could sense a rhythm of paws and throaty panting close by. Stella glanced back.

  Flash was gaining ground. Flash was huge. Flash looked mean. Flash was so fast! Flash was going to beat her to it!

  The wall was getting closer and closer. Stella remembered crashing into the straw wall last time. She skipped a step to shorten her pace, sank low onto her front legs and flung herself into the air.

  Her long, fluffy ears streamed behind her, filled with the cheers of the crowd. Her paws grazed the top bale, giving her a little extra height and speed, as she vaulted right over the wall.

  She landed just as the dummy rabbit shot through the hole. She heard the thud, thud, thud of the dogs crashing into the bales behind her. Stella threw herself at the rabbit and grabbed it with her teeth. The car engine died, the rabbit stopped and Stella shook it until she was sure that it was dead!

  ‘Stella! Well done!’ Walker rounded the bales to see Stella proudly showing off her prey. He sank to his knees, threw his arms around her neck and gave her a huge, hearty hug.

  Seconds later they were bombarded by the other dogs, who all wanted to join in the celebration and, more importantly, find out who this boy was that could talk to dogs!

  ‘Well done!’ Flash panted. ‘I never thought of jumping over the top! That was genius!’

  Horatio towered over them all. ‘You can speak Dog!’ he growled in a deep, gruff voice at Walker.

  ‘Yes,’ said Walker. He couldn’t think what else to say. He didn’t need to say anything, as dogs piled on top of him asking questions, nineteen to the dozen.

  Mikey and Conn took in the scene, amazement written all over their faces. Conn puffed his cheeks. ‘No doubt who the winner is!’

  ‘I’m not lekking go!’ Stella spluttered through the cloth rabbit.

  ‘She’s not letting go!’ Walker said.

  ‘That’s okay,’ Mikey laughed, cutting the rabbit off the string with his penknife. ‘She’s earned it! Stick around for the prize-giving. That’s two races she’s won!’

  Horatio nudged up against Walker. His huge body knocked him off balance, into a ball of excited, admiring terriers who fought each other to lick his face, their tails wagging in an excited line.

  The owners peeled their dogs off him one by one, spluttering apologies for their strange behaviour. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it before!’ Horatio’s owner chuckled. ‘You certainly have a way with dogs!’

  As Walker struggled to get up, his eyes locked with the familiar icy blue. Arlington Wherewithal was watching him with interest. He’d never seen anything like it before either.

  The dog show entry table was now filled with silver cups. A small crowd had gathered around it in a semicircle. Their dogs were hot and tired and mostly slumped on the floor, uninterested in who had won which prize.

  Some of the silver cups were a little worse for wear. The winners were allowed to keep them at home for a year, but they had to return them for the next year’s competition. Sometimes there would be little accidents while someone was dusting the mantelpiece and the cups would be returned with added dents and scratches.

  Walker and Stella, who had not let go of her tartan trophy, stood to one side, watching as the lady with the megaphone announced all the winners.

  One by one the owners came up to shake Arlington’s hand, receive their cup, be given an envelope and have their photograph taken for the village website news page.

  Khan raised a cheer, as he slowly, but proudly, walked forward to receive his prize. He just had to hold out a little longer, show everyone what he was made of, then he could go home and sleep for the rest of the week. He knew his old bones would ache terribly, but it was worth it to keep up his reputation in the village.

  Finally, the results of the drag race were announced. The crowd cheered as Nando trotted up to receive his rosette and envelope. There were no cups for the drag race – it wasn’t an official part of the dog show, just a bit of fun.

  Walker was wondering what the envelopes contained when he heard the jangly, megaphone voice call his and Stella’s name.

  ‘I hate that man!’ Stella growled through the tartan rabbit.

  Walker picked Stella up and went up to the table. He smiled for the crowd and whispered through the side of his mouth. ‘Promise me you’ll behave yourself?’

  Stella grumbled a sort of reply.

  Arlington’s tight smile suggested menace more than friendliness. ‘Ah! It’s the dog walker! How’s business?’

  ‘Good, thank you, sir.’

  Arlington leaned over to place two rosettes on Stella’s collar. One for the medium-sized dogs and one for the all-comers race.

  ‘Stella!’ he said, in a slimy voice. ‘Mrs Little will be so proud of you!’

  ‘Miss,’ Walker corrected.

  ‘What? Oh yes.’ Arlington picked up two envelopes, one for each race, and handed them to Walker. ‘Smile for the camera, now!’

  Walker turned to face the photographer. Several dogs slipped free of their owners and crowded around Walker and Stella. They wanted to be in the picture too. It wasn’t every day you met a dog whisperer!

  Walker smiled and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, ‘What did I do?’ The crowd chuckled and snapped away on their phones.

  Walker tried to ignore the dogs, who were chattering away: ‘Nice to meet you, Walker – Stella’s so lucky – can you take me out for a walk sometime?’ A golden retriever sat on his toes and gazed up at him in adoration, as if she had just fallen in love. The crowd sighed with an audible ‘Awww!’

  ‘You really do have a way with dogs, don’t you?’ Arlington said. ‘I tell you what, come up to Foxley Manor tomorrow at eleven o’clock. My wife and I are having a few days away in Italy. You can walk my boys for me. How does that sound?’

  ‘Er! Y-yes, sir.’ Walker was so surprised he wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Tomorrow … eleven o’clock,’ he sputtered.

  ‘Good! I’ll see you then.’ Walker was dismissed. Arlington shook hands with the organisers, strode off towards the Manor and was gone.

  ‘Stella! You clever girl!’ Jenny’s face lit up when Stella and Walker met her outside the produce tent. ‘You won a prize – no! Two.’

  Stella dropped the tartan rabbit at Jenny’s feet. It was a gift – the spoils of war, won fair and square.

  Jenny picked the soggy rabbit up and gave Walker a quizzical look. He explained how Stella had stolen the show in the drag racing event, and how fast she was.

  ‘Well! That’s down to all the exercise Walker’s been giving you.’ Jenny scrunched Stella’s face in her hands and kissed the top of her head. ‘Did you win a prize?’

  Walker took the envelopes out of his back pocket.

  ‘What’s inside?’ Jenny asked, excitedly.

  Walker tore open the envelopes and pulled a card from each.

  Jenny made a face. ‘Urgh! I wouldn’t let Stella eat any of that muck! I just don’t trust that man.’

  Walker stared at the cards and shrugged. ‘I don’t think Stella would eat it anyway.’

  Jenny had won lots of first-prize cards for her cakes and biscuits and vegetables and flowers. She’d let them all be sold to raise funds for charity and next year’s fête, so there wasn’t much for her to take home.

  Walking back to Jenny’s house, Walker felt really guilty when he told her that he’d agreed to walk Arlington’s dogs. It was like playing for another team.

  ‘Well.’ Jenny took a deep breath. ‘That’s between you and him. Personally I wouldn’t trust that man as far as I could throw him. Make sure you charge him lots of money!’

  ‘But he does so much to help dogs,’ Walker said. ‘He can’t be all bad, can he?’ Walker had read a display at the dog show that explained how Arlington’s dog food business sponsored dog rescue sanctu
aries all around the country. And how Arlington had been showered with awards for his work with dogs. His pointers were champions! There was even an old picture of him with Queen Elizabeth and her corgis!

  Tired and full of cake, he gave Stella a big hug goodbye and went home.

  But first he needed to stop by the shop. Boss sensed him coming and was waiting by the gate. A look passed between them. Walker smiled as he opened the door.

  ‘I saw this and thought of you,’ he said, giving Anje a blue, striped paper bag.

  She looked at the bag, then at Walker, then at her dad. ‘Come along!’ her dad laughed. ‘Let’s see!’

  Anje opened the bag and pulled out a cellophane envelope that contained a badge. It was yellow and black. Around the top it said, ‘Watch out, there’s an…’ then there was an embroidered silhouette of an Alsatian dog and the word ‘about!’ below.

  ‘It looks just like Boss!’ Anje gasped. She couldn’t think what else to say. Walker felt suddenly embarrassed. His mouth went dry and he couldn’t think of anything to say either.

  Mr Bonus broke the silence. ‘Is true!’ he chuckled. ‘Look just like Boss! You can put it on your jacket with other badges. Say thank you, Anje!’

  Anje nodded and managed a whisper. ‘Thanks!’

  Walker turned to Mr Bonus. ‘Actually, I wanted to ask your advice.’ He explained about Arlington and how he had been summoned to the Foxley Manor.

  Anje’s eyes opened wide. ‘Are you going there on your own?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Walker replied. ‘It’s business, after all.’ Then he asked, ‘But how much should I charge?’

  ‘Simple,’ Mr Bonus stood up straight, in his business-like pose. ‘You want to do this walking job for Mister Arlington?’

  ‘Not really. He just sort of told me I had to do it, without asking me first.’

 

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