Sam Hannigan's Woof Week

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by Alan Nolan


  My Furry Friend

  Ajay Patel sat at the Hannigans’ kitchen table and listened to Sam venting about her brother. He had no trouble believing Sam’s wild tale about her brain being transferred into the bodies of a goldfish and a mouse. He knew all about the shed in the garden that was full of Daddy Mike’s wacky inventions – he had even been on the receiving end of some of them himself, courtesy of Bruno. One of them, labelled ‘The Incredible Tan-U-Later’, turned the skin of his face from its normal light brown to an alarming shade of electric pink. Ajay had to go to school with that pink face for a week, until the Tan-U-Later’s effect wore off. Even the teachers started calling him Pinky Patel, much to Bruno’s delight.

  ‘C’mon, Ajay,’ said Sam. ‘It’s a lovely day – let’s practise in the back garden.’

  Ajay hefted up his accordion and they trundled out the back door and onto the decking outside. They usually practised for Irish dance competitions out here when it wasn’t raining, Ajay playing reels on his accordion and Sam dancing. Sam liked practising on the deck because it was old and bouncy, and she could get a good height to her leaps. Ajay liked it because the garden was big enough that he wasn’t really disturbing anyone with his wheezy accordion music. Except, of course, for Mr Soames, and Ajay didn’t mind disturbing that nasty crank at all. He smiled at Sam, ‘Let’s play it nice and loud this morning for Old Soapy!’

  Soapy Soames! That reminded Sam of what had happened between Mr Soames and Barker the dog during the night, and she filled Ajay in. Ajay was outraged – he loved animals as much as Sam did and hated to see them mistreated. They walked to the fence and looked over at Barker. She whimpered a little and sadly raised her head in greeting. Her tail wagged weakly.

  ‘That bully,’ said Ajay. ‘He shouldn’t be treating poor Barker like that. Look at the poor thing, she’s skinny and her fur’s all stringy and she looks like she needs a good dinner. That rotten old Soapy Soames needs to be taught a lesson!’

  Hmmmm, thought Sam, a lesson … She backed away from the fence slowly, her eyes wide. ‘Ajay,’ she said, ‘I think I may just have had a magnificent idea!’ She told Ajay what she had in mind, and his eyes widened too.

  A few minutes later, Ajay wriggled through the broken wall panel into Daddy Mike’s inventing shed, and retrieved the Brain Swap 3000. He brought it back to the sitting room, and then he and Sam had spent a while observing Rover the goldfish in his bowl on the side table. He looked fine, just swimming about as normal.

  ‘See?’ said Sam. ‘It hasn’t done Rover any harm.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Ajay, ‘let me get this straight. You want me to fire this gun-thing at you, and then go out into the garden and fire it again, this time at Barker?’

  ‘Yup!’ said Sam brightly. ‘How’s your aim?’

  ‘My aim is fine, I think,’ said Ajay, holding up the gun and inspecting the horrible pink-ish brain-thingy inside. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

  ‘Quite sure,’ said Sam. ‘I’ve seen it work, it’ll be fine!’

  Ajay wasn’t convinced. He read the small digital screen at the top of the gun: ‘Power: 20%, Contents: 0%’. He looked at Sam. Her arms were crossed and she was sticking her bottom lip out – he knew from experience that she meant business.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Ajay. ‘Stand over by the sofa. If you are going to fall, at least you’ll fall onto something soft.’

  ‘I won’t be in here to feel it,’ Sam said, tapping her head. ‘Do it.’

  Ajay took a deep breath and raised the Brain Swap 3000, aiming it at Sam’s chest. ‘Like this?’ he asked; he still wasn’t sure.

  ‘I said, DO IT!’ said Sam.

  He did it.

  The sudden rush of wind made the fringe of Ajay’s jet-black hair stand straight up off his forehead. The schlorpy-schloorpy sound echoed around the room as the blue beam hit Sam again in the chest. Just like before, her body went completely stiff and straight, and then toppled over like a felled tree trunk onto the soft sofa cushions. ‘Tim-berrr,’ said Ajay quietly. He goggled at the Brain Swap 3000. The pink brain thingamabob pulsed and throbbed in its glass bowl. Was Sam’s brain in there?

  Okay, thought Ajay, the next part of the plan. He marched out into the garden, holding the gun carefully, afraid that Sam’s brain might get hurt if he banged it off a wall or dropped it. He walked to the fence and peered into Mr Soames’s garden. ‘Barker!’ he called. ‘Here, girl!’

  Barker obediently emerged from under the broken kitchen door and trotted warily over to Ajay, as close as the chain she was attached to would allow. ‘Stay still now, good doggy,’ said Ajay softly, and he levelled the gun at the dog. Barker sat on the other side of the fence, looking up at him mildly.

  ‘I hope this works,’ said Ajay to himself through gritted teeth as he pulled the trigger. The blue beam that came out of the trumpet end of the Brain Swap 3000 looked paler in the outdoor sunlight, and the rush of wind that seemed so strong indoors just felt like a light breeze, but the schlorpy, schloorpy sound was the same. Ajay didn’t care for the sound – it sounded like the sound his dad made with a rubber-topped plunger when their loo was blocked. Schlorpy, schloorpy. Yuk.

  Ajay looked down at Barker, who had toppled sideways onto the ground with the force of the blast. ‘Sam?’ he said, his voice all trembly. ‘Sam, did it work? Is that … YOU?’

  Barker looked up at Ajay sadly. Then the dog’s face seemed to break into a happy smile. She hopped up on her hind legs and started to dance a jig, the chain she was attached to jangling softly as she jumped. Sam’s tongue lolled wildly out of her doggy mouth.

  ‘It’s ME!’ cried Sam, her paws high in the air. ‘It worked, Ajay! IT WORKED!’

  ‘Oh. My. Giddy. Auntie. Ganita,’ said Ajay.

  Sam howled.

  HOW-HOW-HOWWWWWLLLLLLL!

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘First things first – get me off this chain.’ Her voice sounded a bit growlier than normal, but it was still definitely Sam’s voice coming from the furry dog.

  Ajay scrambled over the fence. He glanced up at Mr Soames’ kitchen and then unhooked the chain from Barker’s (or should that be Sam’s?) collar.

  Sam stretched her paws and arched her doggy back. Poor Barker, how did she put up with being chained like that?

  Ajay looked like he was still slightly in shock. ‘This is SO weird,’ he said. He looked at Sam’s face – it was still exactly like Barker’s, but now it looked a bit like Sam’s too. There even seemed to be freckles on her muzzle. ‘How does it feel to be so … hairy?’

  Sam let out a barky laugh and winked one of her new canine eyes at Ajay. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘now it’s time for phase two of the plan. Did you bring the tin opener?’

  Ajay took it out of his pocket and held it up.

  ‘Great,’ said Sam. ‘Mr Soames probably keeps the dog food in the kitchen. Let’s go.’

  They walked up Mr Soames’s garden to the kitchen door, keeping an eye on the windows for movement. They didn’t want to be caught before phase three of the plan kicked into action.

  Ajay reached out his hand and tried the door. ‘Locked,’ he whispered, looking around at Sam.

  ‘Dog flap!’ whisper-growled Sam, and she pushed at the door’s large dog flap with her hairy nose. It swung silently open. ‘I’ll go in and open up the door from the inside.’ Sam squirmed her doggy body through the flap and into Mr Soames’s kitchen.

  It was empty. Sam stood up on her hind legs and tried to turn the door key with her paws. Although Barker’s paws were a bit more mobile now Sam was in charge, they were still too clumsy to turn the key. Hold on, thought Sam, if I can fit through the dog flap, so can Ajay! She stuck her nose back though the flap. ‘Hey, Ajay,’ she whispered. ‘Come in this way too!’

  ‘Well, duh,’ said Ajay, and crawled through. When he was in the kitchen he turned the key to unlock the door. ‘In case we need to make a quick getaway.’

  ‘Good thinking, Buffalo Bill,’ replied Sam.

  Is
n’t it weird, thought Ajay, to be called Buffalo Bill by my best friend, who is now a dog?

  ‘Now,’ said Sam the dog, opening up a kitchen press, ‘let’s get opening some dog food cans.’

  While Ajay opened up the cans with the tin opener he had brought, Sam padded quietly around the house, looking for Mr Soames. She found him, as she expected, in the bath, lying in a mountain of bubbles with a towel wrapped around his head and cucumber slices on his eyes. He had lit candles and placed them all around the rim of the bath. Soft pan pipe music was playing and he didn’t notice Sam’s furry nose nosing in the door.

  Sam padded back down the stairs to the kitchen. ‘It’s perfect,’ she whispered. ‘He’s in the bath right now!’

  Ajay had opened about ten cans of stinky, wet dog food and emptied them into a big plastic bowl he found in one of the cupboards.

  ‘Ready?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Ready,’ said Ajay.

  They both crept upstairs and, outside the bathroom door, Sam stood as tall as she could on her back legs while Ajay placed the big bowl of smelly dog food into her front paws. Hee, this is going to be fun!

  Sam burst into the bathroom in all her doggy glory, barking as she did so. Mr Soames sat up in his bath, causing a small tidal wave of soapy water which splashed over the side. The cucumber slices slid off his eyes and he saw the big, hairy dog standing upright in the doorway, holding what looked like his second-best plastic bowl.

  ‘B-B-B-Barker?’ he said, incredulous.

  ‘Yes! It’s me, Barker!’ boomed Sam, in her deepest doggy growl. ‘And I’m sick of the way you bully me, you – you old, bully!’

  Mr Soames would have jumped out of his socks in fright, but as he was in the bath, he wasn’t wearing any.

  ‘B-b-b-but, B-B-Barker, I-I-I-I d-didn’t mean to–’

  ‘Apology not accepted!’ roared Sam. ‘You know what happens to big, mean old dog-hating tyrants who beat dogs and starve them? They get a taste of their own medicine!’

  With that, Sam tipped the bowl of runny, chunky, meaty dog food all over Mr Soames. A high-pitched SQUEAAAALLLLLL started to come out of his mouth. Meaty chunks of dog food floated beside him in the bubbles and Mr Soames frantically tried to bat them away with his back scrubber.

  ‘I want you to treat me properly in future – lots of food, lots of walks and lots of treats – and I want a nice, warm new kennel!’ Sam bared her canine canines. ‘You better start being nice to me, or you’ll find out that my BITE is much worse than my BARK!’

  Sam started barking loudly, making Mr Soames cringe back in his bubbles. She turned and walked on her hind legs out of the bathroom and slammed the door. Ajay was outside, his brown eyes wide open in amazement. ‘That. Was. Brilliant!’

  ‘C’mon, Ajay,’ said Sam. ‘Time to turn tail and run for it!’

  Back at Clobberstown Lodge, Ajay sat giggling on the sitting room sofa while Sam walked around the room wagging her long tail excitedly. Now that was a weird feeling – the more Sam wagged her tail, the happier she got. So this is what it’s like to be a dog, thought Sam. She went to look at her wrist watch but realised there was no watch there on Barker’s furry front paw. Ajay checked his watch: ‘Five past twelve.’

  ‘Great,’ said Sam. ‘Nanny Gigg won’t be home from her art class for another half hour at least.’

  They stood up, shifted the sofa and dragged Sam’s body out from behind it. They had hidden it there, covered by a tartan blanket, just in case Nanny Gigg or Bruno walked in and wondered why Sam was lying there, stiff as a log of wood.

  ‘Right,’ said Sam, brushing down her fur, ‘let’s get my brain back into my body.’

  Ajay retrieved the Brain Swap 3000 from behind Daddy Mike’s old armchair and flicked the ON switch. The gun make a pathetic SSQUEEEEEEE noise and then started beeping softly, BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

  ‘Problem?’ asked Sam, scratching her floppy, hairy ear with her back paw.

  Ajay looked at the readout. ‘Power: 0%, Contents: 0%.’ ‘Uh-oh,’ he said softly.

  ‘Uh-oh?’ said Sam. ‘I don’t like uh-oh. I never like an uh-oh.’

  Ajay’s face turned pale. ‘Sam, I think the gun may be out of charge.’

  ‘WHAT?!’ Sam grabbed the gun in her furry paws.

  ‘Check out at the readout on the top,’ said Ajay. ‘Power: 0%, Contents: 0%.’

  Sam looked. That’s what it said, all right. ‘No problem. We’ll just recharge it and try again later.’ She picked up a small hand mirror that Nanny Gigg liked to use when she was trying on her hats and looked at her hairy, doggy face. She brushed a strand of fur out of her eyes with her paw. ‘It’s okay, I don’t mind being Barker for a little while longer. As long as Nanny Gigg doesn’t find out.’

  Just then, there was the sound of a key turning in the front door. Sam and Ajay looked at each other in horror.

  ‘Nanny Gigg?’ said Ajay.

  ‘She’s back early from art class!’ said Sam. ‘Quick, Ajay – help me hide my body!’

  They quickly flung Sam’s human body back behind the sofa. Sam sat on Daddy Mike’s chair and covered up most of her doggy body with the blanket. Ajay leaned up against the side of the armchair, trying to look casual, as Nanny Gigg walked into the sitting room.

  ‘Ah, there you are, kids,’ she said, taking off her hat (a bright green Robin Hood-style one with a long brown feather) and placing it on the sideboard. ‘Art class had to end early today. Lizzie Taite was trying to draw Spiderman and was making a bags of it and started to cry. I wouldn’t mind, but Lizzie Taite is well into her seventies and should know better. The teacher had to bring her off for a pot of tea to calm her down. Are you finished with your Irish dancing?’

  ‘Eh,’ said Sam, pulling the tartan blanket up to her hairy chin with her paw, ‘yes. Yeah, all done.’

  ‘Well, the best of luck with the competition tomorrow,’ said Nanny Gigg. ‘You’ll be brilliant, as always. You too, Ajay – you sure can make that accordion sing.’

  She walked out of the sitting room, and Sam and Ajay listened as she went up the rickety stairs.

  ‘She didn’t even notice you’re a dog,’ said Ajay in wonder.

  ‘Nanny Gigg is lovely,’ said Sam, ‘but she’s a bit distracted at the best of times. Not to mention a bit, you know, cuckoo.’

  Sam stood up, the blanket dropping to the floor. ‘Okay, Ajay, we’ve got to get this gun charged up again so I can get back into my own body. There must be a plug or a power charger out in the inventing shed.’

  ‘I’m on it,’ said Ajay. ‘You stay here and I’ll have a look.’

  Ajay wriggled in through the loose panel at the rear of Daddy Mike’s inventing shed. The inside was fairly dark. There was one big window and dust motes floated around in the beam of sunlight that streamed through it. Ajay looked around the various tables and worktops. All of them were covered in papers, and each of the papers was covered in handwritten squiggles and hand-drawn graphs and diagrams. There were also hundreds of circuit boards, valves, cog wheels, buttons, loose levers and dials with wires hanging out of them. Up on shelves around the sides of the shed were strange-looking gadgets, gizmos and weird contraptions of every shape and size. Some had lights on their sides, some had multi-coloured switches, some had grips and handles, some had curious spouts or nozzles. All were covered in a thick coating of dust. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and Ajay had to brush them out of his face as he walked through the dim shed to the shelf where he had found the Brain Swap 3000.

  He reached up to the high shelf and felt around for a plug or charger, but there was none. His hand felt a paper folder, and he took it down and looked at the cover. In the shadowy light he could make out the words written on it in spidery handwriting: ‘Brain Swap 3000 – Instructions for Use.’ Well, thought Ajay, that may come in useful. He stepped back from the shelf and trod on a hard object. He bent down and picked it up. The plug! Bruno must have knocked it off the shelf when he took down the Brain Swap 3000 for the first time!
>
  Ajay took the plug and the instruction manual and headed back to Sam. He connected the lead to the Brain Swap 3000 and plugged it into the wall socket. They both looked at the digital readout on the top of the gun: ‘Power: 0%, Contents: 0%.’

  ‘Oh well,’ said Sam. ‘It’ll probably take a while to charge.’ They both sat back on the sofa.

  An hour later, the readout still read ‘Power: 0%, Contents: 0%’.

  Ajay looked through the instruction manual. Daddy Mike’s writing was in a faded blue pen and was squiggly and hard to read. After a while he looked up. ‘Uh-oh,’ he said.

  ‘Uh-oh? Not more uh-ohs, I told you I don’t like them!’

  Ajay looked pale again. ‘Well, you definitely won’t like this uh-oh. It says here that if the Brain Swap 3000 is completely out of power, which it is, it takes four full days – that’s ninety-six hours – to charge up again.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Sam.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ replied Ajay.

  ‘So you’re telling me I’m stuck being an ACTUAL DOG for four whole days?’

  ‘Looks like it,’ said Ajay.

  ‘But what about school on Monday? What about homework – I can’t hold a pencil with these paws!’ Sam gasped. ‘Holy moley! What about the Irish dancing competition tomorrow?’

  The Irish dance competition! In all the excitement about exacting revenge on Mr Soames, Sam and Ajay had completely forgotten about it. It was the most important competition this year. Cú Chulainn Academy had been looking forward to it for months and Sam was their best dancer by far – they couldn’t miss it.

  Under Barker’s fur, Sam’s face went pale. Like it or not, she was going to be a dancing dog.

  Chapter Four

  Dogged Determination

  Sam woke up and licked her lips. She was so thirsty. She threw back her covers and sat sleepily up in her bed. She had been having a weird dream. Something about pirates. She couldn’t quite remember.

 

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