The bus came round the corner and the lady put her hand out. ‘In that case, I can’t help. Sorry.’ As the bus opened its door, she stepped on. Everyone on the bus was staring and pointing at us. I felt close to tears again. My imagination was running wild. What if Shimmer had run into traffic? What if she was hurt?
At that moment, my phone rang. It was Mum.
‘Amy, come back. Dad and Mr O’Neill said that they can cover more ground in the car.’
‘So they haven’t found her?’
‘Not yet.’
I felt my heart sink further. ‘Can I go with Dad?’
‘Why don’t you come back to the hall and we’ll go home and wait for news there.’
‘Please let me go with Dad,’ I pleaded. ‘I’ll go mad waiting at home. Please let me do something, Mum.’
I knew I couldn’t rest until we found her.
When it got dark, Dad gave up the search and drove home, though I begged him to stay out looking for Shimmer. ‘We can use our energy other ways,’ he said. ‘Posters, phone calls – we’re not giving up by going home, Amy, just changing the way we search.’
When we got back to the house, we saw that Josh had already been busy and was printing out posters to put on lampposts and trees. ‘I wanted to go straight out and put them up, but Mum wouldn’t let me,’ he said.
‘No one’s going to see them in the dark,’ Mum said gently. ‘Have some supper, get a good night’s sleep and we’ll start again in the morning. She can’t have got far and tomorrow we can go door to door asking if anyone has seen her. It’s a small village. News travels fast.’
Caitlin had said something similar, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I couldn’t eat a thing, didn’t sleep a wink and had a horrible night. How could I sleep or eat when Shimmer might be somewhere strange, hungry and wondering where I was – or, even worse, hurt by a roadside? We should have stayed out looking, I thought as I tossed and turned in my bed.
I was up early on Sunday morning and once again Mum tried to get me to eat something, but I couldn’t. I felt sick with worry and my stomach churned again as my imagination played images in my mind of what might have happened to Shimmer.
Dad drove Josh and me into the village where we got busy putting up posters on trees and walls. Mum stayed at home at ‘base camp’ again, to be there if anyone phoned with news.
A few villagers stopped and asked about the posters, but no one had seen or heard of Shimmer. I felt so empty and sad, like a part of me was missing. In the weeks I’d had Shimmer, I’d grown to love her and her funny ways – her enthusiasm (Mum would say greed) for food and how she’d eat like she’d never had a meal before. Two gulps and it was gone, then she’d get the hiccups and, all the time, she’d look as if she was smiling. If any of us forgot her suppertime, she’d come and stand next to one of us and nudge us until we fed her. The way she hated salad always made me laugh and her look of disdain if we offered her a carrot or piece of cucumber was hilarious. Any dog toy we give her would last four minutes max, but somehow she knew not to touch my old soft toys that were on the shelf behind my bed. I wonder how she knew that they weren’t for chewing? She was so cute, had a pure heart, loved me unconditionally and was always in a good mood. She was so lovely and soft to snuggle up with after school, she’d nestle her head under my chin and settle down like she knew she belonged. She was one of the family – and to think about life without her was unimaginable. Last night, the house felt so quiet without her in it. She made everyone in our family smile and there was no doubt that we were all happier for having had her come into our lives.
After a couple of hours, I sat on the pavement and cried.
Dad was about to sit next to me when his phone rang. Josh and I watched and listened to his end of the conversation expectantly. Please, please let someone have found her, I prayed as I stood back up.
Dad shook his head after the call. ‘It was just Mike asking if there’d been any news and saying that he and Caitlin will come and help out if we need.’
I sank back down on to the pavement. ‘What could they do? I am the most useless person in the world,’ I said. ‘I don’t deserve to have such a beautiful dog if I can’t look after her. It’s all my fault, if I’d been watching over her more, this wouldn’t have happened and now you’ll never let me keep her.’
‘Amy, it’s not over yet,’ said Dad. ‘And you mustn’t blame yourself. You tied her lead to a chair. You didn’t just abandon her. She’s not even been gone a day yet. Give it time. Dogs don’t just disappear into thin air. She has to be somewhere.’
‘But what do we do now?’ I asked.
Dad shrugged. ‘I don’t know. We wait, I guess. Someone is bound to have seen something. When people see the posters, they’ll start talking. Someone must have seen something.’
We got into the car to go back home and Dad’s mobile rang again. As Dad took the call, I held my breath, hardly daring to hope.
Chapter Twelve
Unexpected Volunteers
As Dad listened, I saw his expression lighten; he glanced over at me and gave me the thumbs up. He clicked off the phone.
‘That was Mum. Shimmer’s been found.’
I let out a breath of air. Tears came into my eyes again, this time with relief. ‘Where was she? Is she OK?’
‘She’s fine. Apparently Mrs Watson brought her back.’
‘Mrs Watson?’ asked Josh.
Dad nodded. ‘Seems one of her nephews took Shimmer and hid him in her garden shed.’ Dad frowned as he was saying this. ‘She’s taking her back to the house now.’
I bet it was Liam, I thought as we headed for home. He probably thought it was funny. Poppy warned me about him. I am so going to kill him.
When we got home, Shimmer was back already and scoffing down a big bowl of food. She went mad when she saw me and rushed towards me with the same excitement I felt at seeing her again.
I knelt down and she leaped on to my knees, put her paws on my shoulders and gave my face a very enthusiastic licking. ‘Pleased to see you too, Shimmer. I don’t think I will ever need to wash my face again!’ I said as I wrapped my arms around her soft wriggling body. ‘And I will never let you go again.’
Shimmer wagged her tail as if agreeing.
‘She’s fine,’ said Mum. ‘And she’s just eaten two bowls of food.’
‘That nasty Liam. Why did he take her?’ I said.
Mum looked puzzled. ‘Mrs Watson didn’t mention Liam. No, she said it was the younger one who took Shimmer – Robbie.’
‘Robbie? But why?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe he couldn’t resist her. I’ve heard theirs is not a happy home so we should try to be sympathetic. Mrs Watson was very apologetic, but begged us not to be too angry with him. Apparently his dad is hard enough. She’s going to bring Robbie up later to apologise in person, but has asked that we don’t complain to his father. She said if he found out, he might make Robbie’s life a misery, more than it is already.’ I thought about how much I loved Shimmer, and how upset I was that she’d been taken. But I also remembered how much happiness she’d brought to our family and I understood, just a tiny bit, why Robbie might have wanted to take her for himself, especially if he was unhappy at home.
Later that day, I was playing ball with Shimmer in the yard when Mrs Watson’s car drove up, with her and Robbie inside. She stopped at the front and I could see she was saying something to Robbie, who was in the passenger seat. They both got out and, when Mrs Watson saw me, she came towards me. Mum and Dad must have heard her car arrive because they came out to greet her.
Robbie stayed close to the car and stood looking at his feet. His eyes were swollen and I could see that he’d been crying.
‘Come on, Robbie, what have you got to say to the Westalls?’ asked Mrs Watson.
Robbie shifted about, but still didn’t look up. When Shimmer saw him, she ran up to him and put her paws up to his knees, her tail wagging. She was clearly pleased to see him.
Robbie looked bewildered, as if he didn’t know what to do. Shimmer gave him an encouraging bark to say, ‘Oi, don’t ignore me.’ Finally Robbie looked up and his expression broke my heart. He looked so worried. ‘I . . . am . . . so . . . sorry I took your dog, Amy,’ he stuttered. ‘I didn’t mean any harm. Just she’s so cute, I only meant to take her for a walk and play with her a bit and then . . . and . . .’
I could see that he was genuinely sorry so I went over and put my arm around him. ‘Do you promise to never steal her again?’
He looked up at me and I tried to look back as kindly as I could.
‘No. I won’t,’ he said. ‘I mean – I won’t steal her, not that I won’t promise.’
Shimmer was still pawing at his knees, desperate for attention, so he bent down and stroked her and she licked his hand. ‘She’s the cutest dog I’ve ever seen,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have harmed her.’
‘But you do know it’s wrong to take a dog that doesn’t belong to you,’ said Dad.
Robbie’s eyes grew huge with alarm. He swallowed nervously then nodded. ‘I do. I won’t do it again, promise and . . . and . . . my aunt says you want volunteers to work on your centre. I volunteer. I’ll do anything.’ He glanced over at one of the open stables. ‘I love animals, me. I’ll come and live here if you like. I’m a good washer-upper and a fast learner.’
Dad smiled. ‘That won’t be necessary, son,’ he said, ‘but your help would be welcome when we’re up and running.’
Robbie’s face broke into a grin. ‘Honest?’
‘In the meantime, do you want to play with Shimmer and me?’ I asked. I remembered Shimmer when she first came to Silverbrook. She’d looked so confused and just wanted someone to be kind to her. Robbie had that same sad look in his eyes. Plus it might be fun to have a boy around that wasn’t Josh.
Robbie’s eyes grew large again, like they were going to pop out of his head. ‘Could I?’
I nodded. ‘She loves chasing a tennis ball.’ I handed him a ball and he was off, throwing, with Shimmer scampering after him.
Mum came and put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. ‘Good girl, Amy. That was generous of you.’
I squeezed her back. ‘He seems sad,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t be angry with him for long.’
Mum looked over to where Robbie was playing with Shimmer. ‘I know what you mean.’
Chapter Thirteen
Disaster
‘Have you seen this?’
I’d just got home with Dad, who’d picked me up from school on Wednesday afternoon. He was in a good mood because he’d had news. The bank was going to give him a loan and it would be enough to start the work converting the stables into a shop and café. All the way home, he’d added whistling to his usual tuneless humming. I joined in for a while. Hmm, hmm, hmm, whistle, whistle, dum de dah da.
‘Seen what?’ Dad asked Mum.
She handed him a copy of the local paper. ‘It’s a disaster,’ she said. Dad took it, read it then sighed.
‘What? What is it?’ I asked. I picked up the paper and read for myself. ‘Oh no.’
ANIMAL RESCUE CENTRE FAILS BEFORE IT HAS BEGUN, said the headline.
After an animal themed afternoon on Saturday 17th May, the Westall family managed to lose their first animal resident, Shimmer. A search party was sent out but to no avail. ‘I looked around and she was gone,’ said Amy Westall (11) after the event had ended.
Newcomers to the area, the Westalls, spoke about plans to offer employment for locals and a shelter for lost pets. However, after managing to lose their first puppy, it makes this local wonder if they can be trusted to deliver on any of their promises and if maybe it was all hot air.
I looked to see who had written it. Nathan Braithwaite, it said.
‘I know who he is. He’s the man Caitlin and I bumped into when we were out looking for Shimmer,’ I said. ‘He said then he wasn’t impressed.’
‘But it wasn’t our fault,’ said Mum. ‘It’s very unfair of him not to get the facts. Someone should set him straight.’
‘We can’t do that, love. We can’t tell him what really happened,’ said Dad. ‘We promised Mrs Watson that we wouldn’t say anything about Robbie and now I’ve met him, I’m inclined to agree. I don’t want the boy getting into trouble. Sadly, Mr Nathan Braithwaite has got us over a barrel. We can’t go back to him and defend ourselves without naming names – but I agree, it seems very unfair.’ He sighed again. ‘Just as we’d won over the locals, they’ll see something like this.’
‘So what can we do? What if anyone asks?’ I asked.
‘Josh’s already taken down all the posters we put up around the village. If anyone asks, we say Shimmer wasn’t lost. We say it was a case of miscommunication and a friend was looking after her all the time,’ said Dad.
‘Sounds fishy to me,’ said Mum. ‘But I don’t think we have any choice. We can’t land Robbie in it. We’ll just have to prove Mr Braithwaite wrong, that’s all. We have to show him that Shimmer is the most obedient, well-behaved and well-looked-after dog that ever lived.’
Josh came in to join us. ‘And I can keep putting stuff on our Facebook page to show that Shimmer’s home and safe. It’s all set up now.’
‘I know what else we can do,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen it on other doggie pages online. On days like Christmas, they put tinsel on their dogs; on St Patrick’s, a green hat; and things like that. One lady even put heart-shaped glasses on her dog on Valentine’s Day. They look so cute. At least it will show Shimmer is well and happy, and each festival or diary date is an excuse to show an update of her and what’s happening here.’
‘And if we do some basic training with her,’ said Dad, ‘we can put some photos of that up. Show that we are responsible. Good idea, Amy. That’s what we need to keep doing, posting stuff so that Mr Braithwaite’s article becomes yesterday’s news.’
‘So, Shimmer, are you ready for your training sessions?’ I looked over at Shimmer, who was at that moment chewing one of Dad’s shoes. Luckily it was one of an old pair. ‘Hmm, I reckon we might have a challenge on there. OK. Shimmer, come here, girl.’
Shimmer looked at me then back at the shoe. She rolled on her back and carried on chewing the shoe. I got up and went over to her. ‘Drop,’ I commanded. ‘Drop shoe.’
Shimmer thought it was a game. She got the shoe firmly in her mouth and went and hid under the table where I couldn’t get at her. I followed her over. ‘Shimmer, drop. Drop the shoe.’
She ran out into the hall, still with the shoe in her mouth, and hid under the hall table, her tail wagging. She was good at this game. Next she ran up the stairs. I followed her up to see she’d hidden under my bed. She was peeking out, the shoe firmly under her front paws.
There had to be another way.
I went to my laptop and Googled ‘how to train your dog’.
I sat at my computer for hours. I watched videos on YouTube. I read websites with top tips. I made notes. I watched training sessions on how to get a dog to sit, stand, roll, stop on command. All the time, Shimmer lay at my feet happily chewing on Dad’s shoe.
‘Haha, Shim my girl, you don’t know what you’re in for!’ I said.
The next evening, I took Shimmer out into the yard after school. Dad, Josh and Ginger came out to watch. I started with practising commands to sit. As always, Shimmer thought it was a game and started running around and jumping up with excitement at all the attention she was getting. Ginger sat on one of the bins and surveyed the scene with his usual look of disdain.
‘Sit,’ said Josh. ‘Sit.’
‘I know you’re trying to help, Josh, but according to what I read, it will be confusing for her if she hears commands from different people. She won’t know who to listen to. It’s important that I establish myself as the main pack leader or else Shimmer will get confused. They like to know who’s their boss – it makes them feel safe and secure.’
‘Ooh. All hail the mighty Amy,’ said Josh.
‘She’s right, Josh,’ said Dad. ‘Dogs are pack animals. All domesticated dogs are descended from wolves and their basic instinct tells them that there has to be a hierarchy and one leader.’
Josh shrugged. ‘OK, but don’t think you get to be leader of the whole family.’
‘As if,’ I said. ‘We all know who that is.’
‘Mum,’ we chorused.
Dad laughed. ‘And that’s a fact,’ he said, looking over at Ginger. ‘With Ginger second in command.’
Ginger blinked his eyes slowly as if agreeing.
When Dad and Josh went back inside, I turned back to Shimmer. ‘We both get homework now,’ I told her. ‘And we’ll show the villagers. You’re going to be Shimmer the Wonder Dog.’
The first few sessions were hopeless. I gave the command to sit. Shimmer rolled on her back. I gave the command to roll over. She sat. Then she’d bark. As the YouTube demonstrations had advised, I turned my back on her when she did that and only when she’d stopped did I turn back, kneel down, look into her eyes and firmly say, ‘No’. She put her paws on my shoulders and gave me a good licking.
‘Yes, I like you too, Shimmer, but you have to learn some basic commands.’ She got down, then turned back and jumped up with such enthusiasm that I went flying on to my back. As I was lying sprawled out on the yard, I heard a male voice. ‘Need a hand?’
I looked up. It was Liam. Robbie’s sulky brother. I scrambled to my feet. ‘No. I’m fine. I . . . I’m just training my dog.’
Liam cracked up laughing. ‘Yeah. Looks like you’re winning too.’
‘No need to be sarcastic,’ I said. ‘It’s early days.’
‘Very early,’ said Liam. His face had resumed its normal sour expression.
‘What do you want?’ I asked.
‘My aunt sent me up to say me and Robbie have to come on Saturdays to help out.’
‘Have to come? Robbie seemed very happy about it.’
For a second, Liam’s mean mask disappeared and he looked worried. ‘You’re not going to say anything about Rob, are you? About him taking your dog?’
A Home for Shimmer Page 9
