The Smug Pug

by Anna Wilson

  He then leaped daintily into an old bathtub which had a series of buttons on it. He pushed one and a shower cap was popped neatly on to his head. Another button was pressed and the bath taps turned themselves on, and after pressing yet another button, sweet-smelling bubble bath was poured into the bath which then filled with warm water and mounds of big shiny bubbles.

  ‘Aaah, lovely!’ said Smug, closing his eyes. Then he leaped back out, flicked a switch and a pair of white-gloved hands emerged from the side of the bath. They removed the shower cap and produced a towel. The towel was wrapped around Smug and he was given a vigorous scrub.

  ‘What do you think?’ Smug asked, raising one eyebrow. ‘It’s one of my more recent projects.’

  ‘It’s – it’s awesome,’ said Pippa, in hushed tones.

  Smug came back to sit with the girls. ‘Right. Down to work. Can you pass me some paper and a pencil, please? Oh, and my specs. Thank you.’

  The dog lifted his head for Tallulah to place an oversized pair of thick-framed spectacles identical to her own on his flat little face. He wrinkled his nose to settle them into place, then, taking a pencil between his claws, he began to draw shapes and arrows and lots of squiggly things. Soon the page was covered.

  ‘What is he doing?’ Pippa hissed.

  ‘Shh,’ said Tallulah. ‘He’s concentrating. Don’t stop him in mid-flow.’

  Smug muttered to himself and scribbled and scrawled and was soon writing on the table itself, since he had run out of space on the paper. Pippa wondered if she should say something, as he didn’t seem to have noticed. Then she took in her surroundings again and realized that, in a house such as this, a scribbled-on table was quite probably the least of anyone’s worries.

  At last Smug cleared his throat noisily and said, ‘Let’s see now. If x equals y equals z and a quarter, then no one has any idea what they are talking about, but if I were to multiply the signs of the zodiac backwards while adding pi to the square root of a million and fifty-six, then – oh my goodness!’ he exclaimed, twitching his nose (which made the thick-rimmed spectacles dance around his funny little face). ‘Eureka!’

  ‘You reek o’ what?’ cried Pippa. She jumped up from her chair in alarm and looked around wildly.

  Smug shook off his spectacles with a snigger. ‘I said, “Eureka!”’

  ‘It’s ancient Greek for “I have found it!”’ Tallulah explained.

  ‘Found what?’ said Pippa.

  Tallulah scrambled to her feet and peered at Smug’s notes and jottings. ‘The solution to your problem.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Smug. ‘How would your Mrs Fudge react, do you think, if we told her that she could have a machine that can help her with haircutting so that she can concentrate on the dog grooming?’

  ‘Brilliant!’ exclaimed Pippa. ‘That is exactly what she needs.’

  ‘Good, good. Well, leave it with us. We should have it knocked together in, ah, um, what do you think, Tally?’ The pug gestured to the sketches and notes.

  ‘I should say we could have it ready by tomorrow. If we work flat out through the night, that is,’ said Tallulah.

  ‘R-really?’ Pippa said, astounded. She looked at the scrawlings and suddenly felt overcome with doubt that such a complicated-looking invention could be built in such a short space of time.

  ‘Indubitably,’ said Tallulah.

  ‘She means “of course”,’ Smug translated with a smirk.

  Pippa clapped her hands and shouted, ‘Hooray! If this doesn’t get me back into Mrs Fudge’s good books, I don’t know what will.’

  8

  Dash and Smug Finally Meet

  Pippa went straight around to Chop ’n’ Chat after school the next day. She had travelled even faster than usual so that, by the time she arrived at the old house on Liquorice Drive, she felt as though every last breath had been squeezed out of her.

  I must sound grown-up and clever about the whole thing, she told herself. Tallulah would not rush in and gabble away like an overexcited schoolgirl. And Smug would be extremely intelligent and logical.

  She allowed herself one squeal of excitement and two claps of her hands before saying, ‘Calm yourself, Pippa Peppercorn’. Then she let herself into the house as quietly and normally as she could.

  But she forgot all her own advice the minute she saw Dash coming to the door to greet her.

  ‘Good afternoon, Pippa,’ said the little dachshund. ‘Nice of you to drop by. I wasn’t sure if you had time for your old friends any more.’

  If Pippa had not been in such a hurry to tell Dash about the invention, she might have pointed out that it was her old friends who had not had time for her. But instead she said in a rush, ‘They said they would come along this afternoon – and they would bring it with them.’ Her eyes were shining. ‘I can’t wait for Mrs Fudge to meet everyone. And for you to meet them too,’ she added.

  ‘And who is “they” and what is “it”?’ asked Dash irritably. (He did of course know the answer to the first question.)

  ‘THE FOGHORNS!’ cried Pippa, bouncing up and down on the tips of her toes. ‘TALLULAH AND SMUG THE PUG AND THE PROFESSOR AND THEIR MAGNIFICENT SURPRISE FOR YOU!’

  ‘Oh, them,’ said Dash, sticking his pointy little nose in the air. ‘That reminds me – Raphael came in earlier with the post. He said there are a lot of strange goings-on and peculiar noises coming from the Foghorns’ house. I think you should be careful—’

  ‘Anyway, so they are coming round, and it’s very important we are all friendly and nice!’ Pippa cut in. ‘And Tally thinks they have almost cracked their design, and Smug says that it might still need a few bits of “fine-tuning and last-minute adjustments”,’ she babbled.

  ‘Design? Machine?’ asked Dash. His curiosity was piqued now.

  ‘Oh, did I not say? They have designed a machine that is going to help out in Chop ’n’ Chat when there are too many customers. It might need a bit of work still—’

  ‘A machine? Which needs “a bit of work”? Load of old rot,’ muttered Dash. ‘Sounds more like your friends are using code for “I’ve promised something I can’t deliver” or “I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m going to have to start all over again”.’

  ‘Dash, will you stop being so rude?’ Pippa snapped. ‘You haven’t even met them and you’re already being horrible.’

  ‘And all you’ve done since they arrived is go on and on about Tallulah – sorry, Tally this and Smug that and how amazing they are,’ growled Dash.

  ‘Oh, so that’s it!’ cried Pippa, flinging her hands in the air. ‘You’re jealous, aren’t you? You can’t bear it that I have other friends.’

  Dash put his tail between his legs and scuttled off to his basket in the kitchen.

  ‘Pippa!’ said Mrs Fudge. She had overheard the end of the unpleasant exchange between her two friends and she was not happy. She looked at Pippa over the top of her half-moon spectacles. ‘Lovely to see you. I hope you are going to be more of a help than a hindrance today, my dear.’

  ‘Yes. Sorry, Mrs Fudge,’ said Pippa, lowering her eyes. ‘I promise that I won’t let any disasters happen again. By the way,’ she said, brightening, ‘I have organized for my new friends to come round so that you can finally meet them.’

  Mrs Fudge softened. ‘That’s a lovely idea. But perhaps not today. I’m run off my feet and—’

  The doorbell cut her off and Dash went tearing down the hallway, barking, ‘I’ll get it!’ (Poor Dash never remembered that even if he stood up on his hind legs he was not able to reach the door handle.)

  Muffles had been skulking in the doorway, eavesdropping on all the hoo-ha. She leaped into the air, hissing angrily, as Dash rushed past.

  ‘’Scuse me, Muffles,’ gasped Pippa, hot on Dash’s tail. She pushed past the dachshund and got to the door before him.

  ‘Hi!’ said Tallulah, as Pippa flung open the front door. ‘We would have brought Grandfather too, but he had a previous engagement. And he did so want to meet you
all.’

  Smug trotted in behind Tallulah, his nose in the air and an expression of extreme satisfaction on his soft, wrinkled face. He was wearing his thick-rimmed spectacles again.

  Hmm, thought Dash. Looks like a bit of a geek. He made his tail stand as high as he could and pricked his ears up to show that he was the boss of the house.

  But Smug either did not notice this body language, or did not care. He trotted right up to give the dachshund a friendly lick on the nose. ‘Friends?’ he said. Then before Dash could disagree, he added briskly, ‘Now, enough chit-chat. Where do you think the machine should go, Mrs Fudge?’

  ‘Machine? I – Did he just . . . ?’ Mrs Fudge’s face had gone as white as her hair. She was pointing at Smug with one hand and fanning her face with the other.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ said Smug. ‘And if you don’t mind my saying, I don’t see why you should be so surprised. After all, Dash can make himself understood by humans, so why shouldn’t I?’

  ‘Sorry, Mrs Fudge,’ said Pippa. ‘I should have said.’

  ‘Great,’ Dash mumbled. ‘That’s all I need.’

  Mrs Fudge put on an extra-jolly voice to try to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Well, it’s wonderful to have yet another intelligent, charming pooch around the place.’ She ruffled Dash’s fur to make it clear he was not to be left out, then said, ‘Shall we all come through to the kitchen?’

  She produced a plate piled high with pink, green and violet macaroons and a pot of tea, and everyone tucked in while chattering noisily. Muffles crept in unnoticed under cover of the gossip and munching and settled herself in her favourite armchair, curling her tail protectively around herself.

  Dash eyed the cat with envy and wished he could withdraw from the party going on around him. He found himself feeling more than a little suspicious of the pug. Smug had chosen to sit on a chair up at the table, which Dash found very un-doglike. He himself sat resolutely at Pippa’s feet and listened carefully.

  Who does he think he is? Dash thought as he observed Smug. And who ever heard of a dog wearing glasses? He shuddered. Next thing you know he’ll be wearing a suit and tie and drinking tea from a cup!

  There is something not right about this animal, Dash decided. And I don’t like the sound of this machine either. I think I am going to have to keep a close eye on these Foghorns. A very close eye indeed . . .

  9

  Who Will Try the New Machine?

  At last tea was finished and Tallulah offered to set up the machine. ‘Because Smug is all paws and claws when it comes to putting it together,’ she explained.

  But, as it turned out, she made quite a mess of it herself. She became more and more flustered as Smug shouted instructions at her, running every which way and yapping the whole time. Dash watched in horror as the dog leaped up on to the counter and jumped from there to the twirly-whirly chairs, clearing the surfaces in the salon as he went by, sweeping the bottles of shampoo and the brushes and curling tongs on to the floor.

  Meanwhile Tallulah unplugged all the hairdryers and placed a pile of beautifully folded towels on to the sofa. Then she rushed around like a whirlwind with armfuls of wires and plugs, fixing them into the sockets and muttering to herself as she went.

  ‘Raaaoooooow!’ Muffles was not amused as she had been having a particularly satisfying dream about chasing a mouse, and all this noise and kerfuffle had woken her up.

  ‘Excuse me!’ barked Dash. ‘Could you please be more careful? It took us ages to—’

  ‘Dash,’ said Mrs Fudge, ‘don’t interrupt. I am sure Tallulah needs to concentrate.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed the girl. ‘It is very important to be focused while working. Tidying up can always wait. That is what Grandfather says.’ She frowned as she peered at two more plugs in her hand and searched for more sockets. ‘Aha!’ she said, spotting one near a dog basket by the floor. She reached for the plug that was already there and pulled it out.

  Dash growled. ‘That was my electric blanket,’ he complained. ‘I was warming that up for later.’

  Honestly, he thought again, who DO they think they are? Coming here with their long words and stupid inventions . . .

  Tallulah meanwhile was twisting and turning all manner of dials and cogs and buttons. The machine started to click and hum and hundreds of tiny coloured lights began flashing on and off in a pretty pattern.

  ‘Oooh!’ said Mrs Fudge.

  ‘Aaah!’ said Pippa.

  Tallulah was keeping up a running commentary on what she was doing, and as most of the words she used were impossibly long and confusing, Smug had to chip in with slightly easier-to-understand explanations along the way.

  ‘She’s saying that that button there will be the one to use for a quick trim,’ he said, indicating a small red button which looked alarmingly similar to a number of other small red buttons. Pippa decided she would ask her friends to produce some sticky labels so that she and Mrs Fudge would not get confused when they came to use the machine.

  ‘And this mechanical arm here,’ Smug went on, ‘will be useful for mixing hair dye, and this hand here can be used to apply the dye—’

  ‘I’m beginning to wonder if this machine might take over from me completely,’ said Mrs Fudge. She was trying to sound light and jokey, but there was a hint of wobbliness in her voice.

  ‘Well, now you come to mention it,’ began Smug, ‘I think you’ll find that the machine will free you up to—’

  Dash could not keep quiet a moment longer. ‘Now listen here!’ he exploded. ‘No one and nothing, not even the world’s most fantastically designed robot, could replace Mrs Fudge! She is totally one hundred per cent irreplaceable. Isn’t she, Pippa? Pippa . . . ?’

  But once again, no one was listening to Dash. They were all waiting, holding their breath, to see what would happen next. Everything was now in place: the plugs were plugged in and the switches were flicked on and the buttons were flashing and the humming things were humming, and the machine was basically all set and ready to go. Pippa slowly put out a hand to touch it – all those red, blue and yellow buttons looked so inviting – but her new friend jumped in front of her.

  ‘NO!’ shouted Smug, making Pippa jump so high she almost leaped right out of her stripy tights. ‘I’m sorry to startle you,’ said the pug more quietly, ‘but you absolutely must not touch anything until I have explained exactly how the invention works.’

  Dash cocked an ear at this. ‘Oh really?’ he said. ‘So you’re saying this machine is dangerous? In that case, Mrs Fudge, I strongly recommend that—’

  ‘Dash, dear, please allow them to demonstrate,’ said Mrs Fudge.

  Smug’s wrinkly face wrinkled up even further, into something resembling a smile. ‘Thank you, Mrs Fudge,’ he said. Then, turning to Pippa, ‘Firstly, I shall require a model.’

  ‘A model what?’ asked Pippa, who was feeling giddy with confusion and excitement. ‘A model citizen?’ she went on. ‘A model aeroplane? A model village? A model train?’

  Tallulah waved her hands to silence Pippa. ‘No, no!’ she chortled. ‘He means a model – you know, like a fashion model! We’ll need someone to sit in the chair here –’ she indicated where she had fixed one of the twirly-whirly chairs into the machine.

  Smug nodded. ‘And then I will ask what style madam requires – I believe that is the wording one uses in hair salons, is it not?’

  ‘And what would you know?’ Dash muttered. ‘By the looks of Tallulah’s hair, she has never set foot in a hair salon before today.’

  The pug narrowed his eyes. ‘As I was saying, who would like to sit in the chair so that I may demonstrate the usefulness of my machine?’ He looked around the expectant group.

  ‘Not me!’ said Tallulah. ‘I am very fond of my style just the way it is.’ She patted her bouncy red cloud of hair to show just how fond of it she was.

  Dash let out a snort.

  ‘Of course, Tally, of course,’ said Smug. ‘But what about Pippa?’

  Pippa shook he
r head nervously. The last time she had let anyone near her hair, it had been a very painful experience.

  ‘I shall be your model,’ said Mrs Fudge. Everyone turned to look at the little old lady. She was holding her chin in the air, her face flushed with excitement.

  Smug jumped up on to a chair next to the machine so that he was closer in height to the old lady and said, ‘We were hoping for a . . . er . . . shall we say, less mature candidate?’

  Dash immediately threw himself at the chair Smug was on, yelping and snarling. ‘How dare you be so rude about Mrs Fudge!’ he began. He did not get very far though, due to his legs being so under-long. He stood up on his hind paws, snapping and growling, while Smug sat quietly on the chair, smiling in a satisfied way.

  Pippa noticed that Mrs Fudge’s face had fallen and she was not looking so excited any more.

  ‘I – I am sure that the machine will work on anyone,’ said Tallulah.

  ‘Well, I should jolly well hope so,’ said Dash. ‘Our customers are all ages, shapes and sizes, so if your machine cannot cope, then I think you should take it away right now—’

  ‘Hello, darlin’s! What is all de racket and hullaballoo around here dis fine afternoon?’

  ‘Raphael!’ cried Dash, immediately rushing over to greet his friend. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. Someone sane – at last.’

  10

  Raphael Is Bowled Over

  ‘Oh my!’ said the postie, staring at the shiny buttons and flashing lights. ‘That is some con-trap-tion you have there, man!’

  ‘It is a hair-cutting-and-styling machine,’ said Tallulah proudly. ‘We invented it to help Mrs Fudge here, who is in need of an extra pair of hands.’

  ‘And so she is, darlin’, and so she is,’ said Raphael, clapping the girl on the shoulder. ‘Oh! You must be de Foghorn girl!’ he added. ‘Am I right or am I right? I has been past your house a few times. Strange though, cos I has not had any post for you yet,’ he added, looking suddenly quite serious. ‘And I hasn’t seen your gran’father either. Is you all right in that big old hotchpotch of a house, young lady? Every time I pass by, all I hears is funny noises, a-whirrin’ and a-clickin’ away.’