The Dotty Dalmatian

by Anna Wilson

  She noticed that, in the commotion, Minx had left her Big Silver Bag lying in a corner by one of the twirly-whirly chairs.

  Aha! thought Pippa. Here’s my chance . . .

  But she didn’t have time to get to the bag because just then, the chaos and noise stopped, as though someone had flicked a switch to turn off the music during a game of musical statues.

  Minx had managed to grab hold of Bella’s collar and had made her sit. She was now looking deeply into the dog’s eyes, the snarl still playing around the edges of her mouth. The collie was tilting her head, looking sidelong at Minx, as if it were a naughty child who had been ticked off by a teacher, and was accepting the reprimand with good grace. Pippa teetered precariously on one foot as she had been caught taking the first step towards the Big Silver Bag. She held her breath while she fought to regain her balance before anyone could ask what she was doing.

  But she needn’t have worried, for everyone was gazing at Minx in awe and total silence. The instant hat Minx seemed tisfied that Bella got the message about how to behave properly, she gently let go of the dog’s collar. Then Dash and Mrs Fudge quietly backed away and Muffles took full advantage of her new-found freedom to bolt soundlessly from the room. (She knew better than to try to have the last hiss in a situation as volatile as this.)

  ‘Good girl,’ said Minx, breaking the silence. She was still holding Bella’s gaze. ‘Pippa,’ she said, ‘come and clip a lead on to Bella for me.’

  Pippa was so relieved not to be caught sneaking a peek in the bag that she obeyed Minx without comment, taking a spare lead from a drawer where Mrs Fudge kept all manner of doggy accessories for her poochy clients. She clipped it on to Bella’s collar, keeping the collie on a short rein. Minx gestured to Pippa to follow her out of the room with Bella, and Dash trotted behind at a safe distance.

  As they walked out, Pippa shot a shifty glance in the direction of the bag. She was sure she had noticed something poking out of the top. She checked that Minx was not looking back to see what she was doing and then craned her neck.

  There’s more than dog biscuits in there, she thought. I wonder why she doesn’t want us to see.

  Dash nudged the back of her legs as they went outside and said in a low growl, ‘I told you, that girl knows what she is doing. Mind you, what a ridiculous hound. I tried to tell Bella to shut up, but do you know what she said?’

  Minx turned around and butted in. ‘Bella’s just behaving naturally for a collie, you know.’

  Pippa swallowed drily. She was not as convinced as Dash was that Minx couldn’t understand every word he said.

  Minx went on. ‘Collies are working dogs. Sheepdogs mostly.’ She paused and then gave a little snigger. ‘I know it sounds mad, but cos they’re bred to herd sheep, well . . . sometimes they just can’t help – herding!’

  Pippa’s eyes boggled. ‘So you mean – Bella was herding Dash and Mrs Fudge and Muffles back there?’

  Minx nodded slowly.

  Pippa burst out laughing.

  Minx shrugged. ‘It’s not funny. Poor Bella’s confused. I’ll need to ask Mrs Peach if it’s happened before. But hey, in the meantime, we need to remember that she might get like this if there are lots of other people and animals around, OK? So can we deal with her quietly and without too many distractions? Let’s shampoo her in the garden today and towel her down. The dryer might freak her out.’

  Dash looked at Pippa sympathetically.

  ‘Don’t,’ Pippa warned him.

  ‘What?’ he said, innocently.

  ‘You were going to say “I’m afraid Minx is right” again, weren’t you?’ Pippa grumbled.

  But Dash merely flicked his ears and soundlessly trotted off down the garden with Minx and Bella.

  13

  More Poochy Problems

  It was to be a few days before Pippa would have another chance to get her hands on the Big Silver Bag. This was mainly because Chop ’n’ Chat was as hectic as ever, which meant that Pippa was kept very busy and she simply did not have the time to snoop around.

  She had, however, not forgotten about her bewildering experience on that foggy night when Raphael had come to her rescue. And the memory of this, combined with her worries about what Minx was keeping hidden in her bag, went round and round in her mind until she began to convince herself that the two things were linked.

  One day Pippa arrived to find that the salon was very quiet. Minx had not yet arrived, and the only customer was Coral Jones, who was sitting in the kitchen, snivelling into a hanky while she confided in Mrs Fudge, who had her arm around her. She was listening patiently while Coral wailed and blew her nose and repeated, ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘What is it?’ Pippa asked, concerned. ‘And where is Winston?’ she added, looking around for Coral’s pug.

  Coral looked up at Pippa. Her face was streaked with smudged make-up and her eyes were shining with tears. At the mention of the pug’s name, more tears sprang out of the poor lady’s eyes and her mouth twisted into a clown mask of misery, and s began blubbing noisily.

  ‘Winston is the reason Coral’s so upset, dear,’ said Mrs Fudge gently, rubbing Coral’s back and giving Pippa one of her looks.

  Pippa gave Mrs Fudge one of her own looks back and shrugged, mouthing, ‘Sorry – I didn’t know!’

  ‘Why don’t you put the kettle on, Pippa, please?’ Mrs Fudge asked. ‘I think we could do with a fresh pot.’

  Pippa huffed and stomped her way over to the stove. ‘All I ever do is make the tea,’ she muttered. ‘Why can’t she ask Minx to do that for a change?’ She paused and thought for a moment. ‘Actually, that’s a point: where is Minx? Typical! On the one day I could have some time to do a bit of detective work, she’s not here!’ She clattered the kettle moodily into the sink and wrenched hard to turn on the tap.

  Coral jumped at the noise and whimpered, ‘I’m sorry, Pippa. It’s awful of me to sit here and cry like this. But I’m at the end of my tether. Darling Winston just won’t go out for walks any more. The minute I open the front door he goes crazy, barking and whining and shivering and shaking. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I’ve been walking him round and round my tiny back garden for the past week. But then last night, when I wanted him to go out for his last walk of the day, he spotted something in the bushes and wouldn’t even go out into his own garden!’

  She blew her nose loudly into her hanky.

  ‘Well, dear,’ said Mrs Fudge eventually, ‘I can see that is rather inconvenient, but it’s no reason to—’

  ‘But it’s not only Winston who is frightened to go out!’ Coral interrupted, her voice escalating in pitch. ‘I – I saw something out there too last night and . . . and I heard it as well,’ she added in a whisper.

  Muffles opened one eye and shot Coral an inquisitive look, then closed her eye again and settled back to sleep.

  ‘What?’ Pippa asked. ‘What did you see and hear?’

  Coral sniffed loudly and said, ‘A huge beast! It howls like a wolf ! And it runs faster than any animal I’ve ever seen. And it’s covered in—’

  ‘Black spots?’ finished Pippa.

  Dash came trotting in at that moment. He had been out in the garden chasing squirrels (‘I like to keep in shape,’ had been his explanation when questioned on this pastime. ‘What shape is that exactly?’ Pippa had retorted. ‘Sausage-shape?’)

  ‘Oh dear!’ he remarked, on seeing Coral’s tear-smudged face. ‘What on earth is going on? not another dog-napping, I hope?’ he added grimly.

  ‘No,’ said Pippa, bending low to whisper back to him. ‘Winston has been scared by the big spotty dog!’

  Coral blew her nose again, causing Dash to start in surprise. ‘What am I going to do, Mrs Fudge? Do you think anyone else has seen the beast? I was thinking about asking Raphael. He normally knows everything that’s going on.’

  Mrs Fudge was drumming her fingers thoughtfully on the tabletop. ‘Raphael may well have seen the same animal himself,’ sh
e said. ‘He was being chased by a spotty dog recently, but he says he hasn’t seen it for a while. In any case, Raphael is not an expert on dog behaviour . . .’

  ‘But you know someone who is,’ chipped in Dash.

  Pippa rolled her eyes, while Mrs Fudge brightened at Dash’s words. ‘Yes, Dash – I mean, Coral, I’ve just had a thought,’ she said, quickly. ‘Have you met my new assistant, Minx, yet?’

  ‘No,’ said Coral, sniffing. ‘But I hear she’s an absolute marvel. I wanted to see if she had any advice on how to calm poor Winnie down.’

  Pippa grimaced.

  ‘She is a marvel!’ Mrs Fudge agreed. And then, catching the sour look on Pippa’s face, ‘I mean, she’s been quite a help. Of course, I don’t know what I would do without Pippa . . .’

  Dash nudged Mrs Fudge to point out she was straying from the subject of Coral’s troubled dog.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Mrs Fudge, getting out her gold pocket watch to check the time. ‘Where on earth is Minx this morning? Has she called?’

  Pippa shook her head and concentrated on making her face as blank as possible – which was hard, as she had been beginning to feel distinctly pleased that Minx had not turned up or called to explain her absence.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Mrs Fudge. ‘I do hope she’s not unwell. Pippa, will you give her a ring?’

  Pippa dragged her feet sulkily into the salon and flicked through the phone book until she had found Minx’s telephone number. 9-8-6-4. As she dialled, she found herself hoping that Minx might have changed her mind about coming to work in the salon ever again . . .

  14

  It’s in the Bag!

  ‘Hey, everyone! Sorry I’m late!’

  The voice made Pippa jump and drop the telephone receiver with a heavy clunk on the counter. It also brought Dash, Mrs Fudge and Coral running from the kitchen.

  Minx was in the hallway, hanging up her coat, her Big Silver Bag slung over her shoulder as usual. Her hair was the orange of a beech leaf in autumn, and she was wearing tights to match. One of the legs had a huge hole in it, Pippa noticed. The rest of Minx’s clothes were black as normal, but they looked decidedly more crumpled than they usually did and she wasn’t wearing her polka-dot scarf.

  Minx’s cheerful manner immediately annoyed Pippa. ‘What time do you call this?’ she demanded, her brow knitted into a dark frown. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.

  But Dash had already scurried up to Minx, his tail swishing back and forth in greeting, his nose sniffing at the assistant’s feet.

  ‘Interesting,’ he was saying. ‘Smells like—’

  ‘Hi, Dash! I brought you something . . .’ Minx reached into her bag and fished out a treat for him which he gobbled down and seemed instantly to forget what he had been about to comment on.

  And Mrs Fudge was crying, ‘Minx, my dear! I was beginning to worry. Are you quite all right?’

  But Minx was now busy being fussed over by Coral, who was behaving like an excited puppy. ‘Oh! You must be Minx. I’m so pleased to meet you! I need your help, you see . . .’

  Come on then, Minx, thought Pippa. Let’s see you solve this one.

  As Coral went into detail about the spotty dog, Minx’s face seemed to develop a greenish tinge which clashed rather hideously with her orange hair.

  ‘We were hoping you might be able to come round to our place and see if you could catch the mystery dog. It should be returned to its rightful owners,’ said Coral.

  ‘Wow – er – I don’t know, that dog sounds, like, super-spooky,’ Minx stammered. She scratched her right ear nervously. Her eyes shifted from left to right as though she was worried the scary dog might actually be in Mrs Fudge’s kitchen. ‘But, hey! I’ve got an idea!’ she announced, brightening. ‘Bring your Winston here and I can take a look at him and maybe help him get over his nerves? I know a few tricks to calm a dog down.’

  ‘She can’t!’ Pippa protested. ‘Didn’t you hear what Coral said? Winnie won’t even leave the house. How is she going to bring him here?’

  Mrs Fudge laid a hand on Pippa’s arm and looked at her over the top of her spectacles. ‘Maybe we should hear what Minx has to say, dear.’

  ‘Bring him here in a box,’ continued Minx calmly. ‘Dogs feel calmer in small, dark spaces. Once he’s curled up tight like that, he won’t worry so much.’

  ‘She’s right,’ said Dash, earning another glare from Pippa.

  Coral brought her pug into Chop ’n’ Chat later that day. She had tempted him into a cardboard box with some of his favourite doggy chocolate drops, and had made the box comfy with a soft folded blanket. When Pippa opened the door, she could hear contented snuffles and snores coming from the box, and Coral was beaming with joy.

  ‘It worked a treat!’ she trilled, as she struggled over the threshold with the box in her arms. ‘He fell asleep as soon as I put him in the car.’

  ‘Here, let me help you,’ Pippa said, holding out her arms.

  Between them they set the box carefully on the ground, then Pippa opened the box and peeped inside. Dash jumped up and put his paws on the side of the box and peered in as well.

  ‘Aw! Doesn’t Winnie look cute!’ cooed Pippa.

  He certainly did. He was curled in a ball, his little tail rolled up in a spiral like a snail’s shell and his paws tucked neatly underneath him. His eyes were closed and he was making soft snorty noises as he snoozed.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Dash. ‘I suppose you could call it that.’

  Pippa grinned. ‘Now who’s jealous?’

  Minx came out to say hello. ‘Hey! It worked!’ she exclaimed. ‘And how is the little guy now that he’s here?’

  Pippa glowered and put her finger to her lips, ‘Shh!’ she said. ‘He’s sleeping.’

  ‘Rrruff?’ Winston opened one eye and saw Dash and Pippa standing over him. He stood up groggily and stretched each leg in turn, then his tail quivered with happiness and he stood up on his hind legs to greet Dash with a friendly sniff.

  Something seemed to catch his attention as he did this though. He began sniffing the air around and above Dash instead. Whatever the smell was, it had an immediate effect on the small pug: he began to whimper, his ears went back and his tail went limp. Then he narrowed his eyes and the whimper grew to a growl and then crescendoed into a cacophony of barking that made Pippa cover her ears with her hands and had Dash scurrying for cover behind her legs.

  Coral swiftly scooped her dog into her arms and began stroking him and crooning to him. Eventually he seemed to realize he was safe and he calmed down.

  ‘What was that all that about?’ Pippa muttered to Dash.

  ‘Tell you later,’ the dachshund replied, nodding in Minx’s direction.

  The new assistant was taking charge of the situation. Gently, she reached out her hand to touch him, but Winston began whimpering again. Minx swiftly withdrew her hand. ‘Right,’ she said hastily. ‘Let’s get him into the salon and I’ll have a proper look at him.’

  But Winston was not keen on staying put. He struggled and wriggled so much that Coral could not keep a hold of him, and with a final squirm he had dropped down on to the floor and was running out to the back door, barking and snarling and baring his teeth.

  Pippa hung back with Dash as the others ran after the pug at full pelt.

  ‘What is Winston saying?’ she insisted, fixing Dash with a determined expression. ‘You have to tell me.’

  ‘I – I don’t think he likes Minx very much,’ Dash said. He looked down sheepishly, as if reluctant to admit what Winston had said. ‘He says she smells like the scary dog,’ he said eventually.

  ‘I knew it!’ Pippa cried, punching the air. ‘She must be his owner.’

  ‘And – look,’ Dash said haltingly. He was staring at something lying in the middle of the floor. Something large, shiny and silvery.

  ‘Minx’s bag!’ Pippa whispered. She could not believe her luck. As she picked it up, she had to concentrate very hard on containing her excitemen
t.

  ‘Quick!’ she said to Dash in a low voice, and nodded towards the living room.

  Pippa closed the door very, very carefully behind them, making sure that the catch did not click as she turned the handle. Then she put her ear to the door to make sure no one had followed her. She could only hear the others calling desperately to Winston, who appeared to have hidden himself somewhere in the kitchen.

  ‘Dash,’ she hissed, ‘keep your super-sharp ears out for anyone heading this way, OK?’

  Dash nodded, and took up his station by the door, his head pressed against it.

  Pippa knelt down and put the Big Silver Bag on the floor, her heart thudding. I must be quick, she thought. She unzipped the bag, wincing at the noise it made; it seemed to her nervous ears to be a sound amplified to unnaturally loud levels. The top of the bag fell open and Pippa peered in.

  She did not know what it was that she had been expecting to find – maybe a book about how to hypnotize dogs. Minx obviously had some way of cheating when it came to making all the dogs in Crumbly-under-Edge fall under her spell (well, apart from Winston). But Pippa couldn’t have been more surprised at what was inside. She pulled out each item in turn.

  ‘Enough dog biscuits to feed a dog for months – she can’t need to lug all this lot around just to please you, Dash,’ she said with raised eyebrows.

  ‘She doesn’t just give them to me, she—’ began Dash.

  But Pippa was pulling more things out of the bag. ‘Hey, look at this! A pair of old boots – they look as though something’s chewed them . . . and a couple of dirty towels . . . a workman’s overalls? Hang on a minute,’ Pippa paused as alarm bells began ringing loudly in her mind. ‘Old boots, overalls, dirty towels – oily ones too – wasn’t that what the mechanic said had gone missing? And look at this! Loads of spare clothes, all like the ones Minx is already wearing. Urgh!’ She held up a handful of pairs of tights, some black, some black with white spots on, some white with black spots and one orange pair. Quite a few of them seemed to be covered in sludgy, gloopy slime. ‘What on earth is this stuff?’