by Ben Fogle
Mr Dog turned round quickly to find a black cat sauntering out from behind the wheel of the caravan. She was swishing her tail from side to side. Her green eyes glittered.
‘What is that thing?’ squeaked Shoe.
‘It’s a monster!’ Sneaker squealed. ‘Can it fly?’
‘No,’ said Socks, ‘but your fur will if it catches you. It’s a cat. A big horrible cat!’
‘My name is Kitty and this is my site.’ Her green eyes met Mr Dog’s. ‘Who are you?’
Now, Mr Dog didn’t care much for cats, but he tried to treat them with respect, the same as all the animals he met. He’d known some dogs who loved to chase cats, and known several cats who loved to fight back with a serious scratch to the nose. Mr Dog had the feeling that Kitty fell very much into that group – and since he was rather fond of his nose he decided it was best to be friendly. ‘Greetings, Kitty! My name’s Mr Dog, and my rabbity friends are Socks, Shoe, Flip-Flop and Sneaker. So, this is your site, is it? Congratulations – and may I say that your water dish is definitely a sight for sore eyes!’
‘You drank from my dish. Which means you’re a thief as well as an intruder.’ Kitty looked past him and stared at the rabbits. ‘The humans here would go mad if they saw you all running about. None of you should be here.’ Her eyes glittered as she licked her lips. ‘This place is a Site of Great Historical Importance, you know.’
‘A what of who?’ said Socks, baffled.
Kitty gave him a disdainful look. ‘Have you never heard of archaeology?’
‘Ark-ay-oll-oh-jee?’ Flip-Flop struggled to get her tiny bunny lips around the big word. ‘I’ve never heard of it. Any of you bunnies ever heard of it?’
‘Nope,’ squeaked Sneaker.
‘We’re only two weeks old,’ Shoe explained, ‘we’ve hardly heard of anything!’
‘But I have!’ Mr Dog yelped. ‘Of course. What a silly dog I’ve been!’
‘Keep your woofing down,’ hissed Kitty. ‘Or you’ll wake my servants. Some of them live here on site.’
Mr Dog swung round to Socks and the bunnies, still peeping wide-eyed from the mouth of the tunnel. ‘She doesn’t really have servants. This place is what’s known as a dig. The people in charge here are archaeologists – people who learn about ancient cultures by digging up the things they left behind. Buildings, tools, jewellery …’
‘And old coins! That’s why they were buried in the mud.’ Socks’s nose was twitching with excitement. ‘So, people used to live here long ago?’
Kitty nodded. ‘There was a fort here back in Roman times, so the ground is full of its ruins and old bits and bobs.’
‘But rabbits don’t care about stuff like that, do they?’ Mr Dog reasoned. ‘So why are your “servants” trying to get rid of them?’
‘Because rabbits mess up the whole dig site!’ Kitty glared at Socks, Shoe, Flip-Flop and Sneaker. ‘My servants moan about your lot all the time. Rabbits dig deep into the soil, making their burrows and warrens. That undermines the foundations of the ruins so that they fall apart faster. The different layers of old stuff get jumbled up so it’s harder to know just how things were left and who left them there …’
‘So that’s why they’ve been trying to keep rabbit numbers down.’ Mr Dog gave Kitty what he hoped was his most appealing smile. ‘I saw a rabbit being brought in here yesterday afternoon. Do you know where we can find her?’
‘How dare you ask me to help you!’ Kitty arched her back and hissed. Mr Dog stepped away and the rabbits squealed in harmony. ‘You have a nerve, you scruffy mutt.’
‘Scruffy?’ Mr Dog scratched his ear with his back leg. ‘I’ll have you know my neckerchief is the height of fashion!’
‘You break into MY site, drink from MY water dish, listen to MY explanations without even a thank-you, and THEN you expect favours!’ Kitty smiled and shook her head. ‘If you want to stay here a minute longer, it’s going to cost you … one bunny.’
Mr Dog flattened his ears to his head, horrified. ‘Excuse me?’
Kitty’s green eyes were sparkling. ‘Give me one of the bunnies to play with – just one – and perhaps I’ll tell you more.’
‘I’ll do it!’ Shoe jumped up and down. ‘I love playing!’
‘No,’ said Socks quickly. ‘This is one game you would never win.’
Mr Dog decided it was time to bare his teeth a little. ‘What if we don’t give you a bunny?’
Kitty hissed again and slashed at Mr Dog with her sharp claws. A red strip of fabric was torn clear from his neckerchief collar.
Mr Dog stared down at it and gulped.
‘Just do as I say, or you’ll be sorry. I’ll howl and yowl and wake everyone up.’ Kitty sat beside her water dish and grinned nastily at the rabbits. ‘By the way, if you try to run, remember that I’m faster than you. I’ll quickly catch up, and maybe then I’ll eat two rabbits … or even THREE.’
Mr Dog looked at Socks, Sneaker, Flip-Flop and Shoe, who had started to shiver.
‘I’m afraid we have no choice,’ he said softly. ‘Which of you wants to come and … play with Kitty the cat, here, hmm?’
‘None of us!’ Socks jumped up, appalled. ‘You can’t let this fleabag get her way.’
‘On the contrary,’ said Mr Dog. ‘I’m going to give her what she deserves.’ He winked carefully at the rabbits, then turned to Flip-Flop. ‘Hop over here, little one. Please?’
‘Okay, Mr Dog,’ said Flip-Flop, looking up at him with worried black eyes.
‘It’s all right.’ Mr Dog lifted her gently in his jaws. ‘Just remember – when I drop you, close your eyes.’ He turned and crossed back towards Kitty. ‘Here,’ he growled through a mouthful of fur, ‘will this one do?’
‘Yes!’ Kitty declared, licking her lips as she laughed. ‘It’s skinny and small, but I’ll still have some fun with it!’
‘Don’t forget, though, Kitty,’ Mr Dog added, ‘you should always wash your paws before a meal.’ (‘Get ready, Flip-Flop!’ he whispered.) ‘Here, let us help you out …’
And suddenly, with a flick of his neck, Mr Dog dropped Flip-Flop into the cat’s water dish.
The little rabbit made a big impact, sending cold water flying all over Kitty! Surprised, the cat jumped backwards – straight into the rack of old relics. She struck them hard enough to set the wooden rack rocking, and a bowl rolled off and cracked open on the hard ground. Kitty gave a yowl of horror as she saw shards of priceless pottery all over the floor.
And, just at that moment, a bolt scraped back noisily from the caravan door. Someone was coming out!
Chapter Seven
TRAPPED!
‘Hide!’ hissed Mr Dog. He snatched the bedraggled Flip-Flop from the water dish and carried her underneath the caravan, while Socks bounced over to join them with Shoe and Sneaker riding on his back.
As soon as Mr Dog disappeared from view beneath the caravan, a woman’s legs appeared above, sticking out from below a dressing gown. ‘Kitty! Oh, you naughty girl!’ Kitty seemed frozen with horror as the woman bustled over and scooped up the black cat. ‘I’m going to have to put that bowl back together. No more playing outside for you this morning. Come on …’
With a miaow of dismay, Kitty was whisked back inside the caravan and the door slammed shut behind her.
Mr Dog breathed a sigh of relief. ‘It’s meant to be good luck when a black cat crosses your path. But I think her owner was much luckier for us!’
‘She was too busy looking at the broken bowl to notice the tunnel by the fence,’ Socks agreed.
Shoe nuzzled up to Flip-Flop. ‘You were awesome, Sis!’
‘You really were.’ Sneaker kissed her nose. ‘You showed that mean cat who was boss!’
‘I’m so sorry I had to drop you like that, Flip-Flop, and give you your first bath.’ Mr Dog bowed his head to her. ‘Will you ever forgive me?’
‘Yes.’ Flip-Flop dried herself against Mr Dog’s furry legs. ‘But I don’t think I like baths very much!’
‘Please can we find her now?’ asked Sneaker, and Flip-Flop nodded.
‘We will start searching at once.’ Mr Dog edged cautiously from underneath the caravan, sniffing the air for a trace of rabbits. But he smelled humans instead – and froze as a man walked out from the Portakabin on the other side of the courtyard. It was the same man who had taken Mother Rabbit away in the trap. The caravan door creaked open overhead, and Mr Dog retreated under cover.
‘What happened out here, Jo?’ said the man. ‘I was woken up, and—’ He saw the broken bowl. ‘Oh no …’
‘Sorry, Hussan. My silly cat got carried away. Probably mousing again.’
‘It would be quite a mouse that made that.’ The man, Hussan, was pointing to the tunnel under the fence. ‘What in the world … Did Misha’s lurcher do this?’
‘Can’t have – she took him home with her last night.’ Now Jo, a slim lady with short brown hair, was bending over the hole. ‘From the way the earth’s fallen, I’d say something has pushed its way through rather than dug its way out.’
(What a clever human, thought Mr Dog approvingly.)
‘It’s too small for a person, so we can rule out thieves or vandals.’ Hussan checked the racks. ‘Nothing’s been taken …?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ Jo paused. ‘Do you think rabbits could’ve done this?’
‘An army of intelligent rabbits, you mean?’ Hussan grinned. ‘Wanting revenge on us for taking so many of them away?’
‘Don’t!’ Jo said. ‘The ones we caught are the lucky ones. I can’t bear to think of the exterminators coming next week to get rid of the rest. They may be pests but it doesn’t feel right.’
(Sneaker, Shoe and Flip-Flop couldn’t stifle their gasps, and Socks was so shocked his ears flew up in the air. Mr Dog snuggled against all four of them.)
‘At least we’re saving some of the little rascals,’ said Hussan. ‘They’ll have a lovely new life in the national park, safely away from the dig and the farmer’s fields.’
‘Nashy-null park,’ Shoe echoed.
Flip-Flop’s nose was quivering. ‘Is that where Mum has gone?’
‘Will we ever see her again?’ asked Sneaker.
Mr Dog nodded firmly, although Socks looked less certain.
‘It’ll be a useful life for them there too,’ Jo went on. ‘That Park Authority is trying to preserve the grassland. Rabbits will eat the gorse and brambles, clearing the turf for low-growing plants. That will attract butterflies and insects, and encourage all kinds of birds to nest there—’
‘I know, Jo, but we can’t catch every single one by hand – or lurcher – and take them away, can we?’ Hussan put a hand on her shoulder. ‘It just isn’t practical. We had no idea that this dig would prove to be so important – or so delicate. Rabbit habits have already made our job here a hundred times harder. If they’re allowed to go on burrowing …’
‘I know,’ said Jo sadly. ‘I just wish we could give all the rabbits a happier life in that park!’
‘Perhaps we should put signs up,’ Hussan joked. ‘Rabbit Sanctuary, this way!’ With some effort, he picked a heavy crate from beside the rack of relics and placed it over the hole. ‘There. That should keep out whatever got in.’
Socks squeaked softly in dismay. ‘Oh no, now we’re trapped!’
‘What if whatever-got-in’s still here somewhere?’ Jo looked around worriedly. ‘I’m going to keep Kitty safely locked up inside till we’re sure.’
‘That’s good news, anyway,’ whispered Mr Dog.
‘Well, no need to wake the others yet.’ Hussan yawned and stretched, as if he weren’t quite awake himself. ‘I’ll have a look around, make sure nothing’s been taken or damaged, just in case.’
‘Splendid plan, my dear Hussan,’ breathed Mr Dog as Jo clomped back inside her caravan. ‘Now we can follow him for a guided tour of the dig!’
‘Really?’ Socks twitched his nose crossly (which only made him look more adorable). ‘You want us to follow a known rabbit-catcher out in the open, with our only escape route blocked off?’
‘I’m not suggesting we dance a conga with him!’ Mr Dog protested. ‘We need to find three things – firstly, poor Mother Rabbit. Secondly, a new way out of here. And thirdly, a way to save all the other rabbits before it’s too late.’ His eyes were shining even in the shadows. ‘And while Hussan is looking for us, he won’t expect us to be following close behind him, will he?’
‘It sounds dangerous,’ said Shoe.
Flip-Flop looked down at the ground. ‘But we’ve got to risk it.’
‘Mum would do anything for us and Socks,’ Sneaker agreed. ‘We’re a family.’
‘Er, yes. We are.’ Socks quickly washed himself, so he didn’t have to look at her. ‘Of course we are.’
‘Let’s get going,’ said Mr Dog. He knew the little bunnies were hungry and exhausted and couldn’t last much longer. ‘We must move as softly as dandelion clocks on a summer breeze … Come on!’
Still crawling, he led the way to the other side of the caravan and poked his head out to check the coast was clear. Nothing moved, except for Hussan, who was heading across the dig site, so he led Shoe, Socks, Flip-Flop and Sneaker out into the sunlight.
Kitty glared at them from the grimy caravan window, her paws pressed up against the glass with longing. Mr Dog wagged his tail and padded lightly after Hussan, though his heart was feeling heavy. He badly wanted to make everything right around here.
But how?
Chapter Eight
THE SEARCH
Mr Dog led Socks, Shoe, Flip-Flop and Sneaker after Hussan in a crocodile.
The archaeologist went first to a shed full of tools to check it hadn’t been disturbed. Mr Dog and the others hid behind a dustbin while he did so.
Hussan’s second place to visit was the snack van. He checked the shutters were still secure, pulled on the handle to open the door and looked inside. Mr Dog caught a wonderful whiff of sausages, one of his favourite foods. But under that he caught a very different smell wafting faintly on the breeze from across the site.
‘Rabbits,’ he breathed. ‘Lots and lots of rabbits!’ Working out the wind direction, he looked across the site, past a pair of big tents to a large rickety lean-to, built up against a section of the fence. A door with two bolts, top and bottom, secured the way in. Come on, Hussan, thought Mr Dog, get checking over there.
But Hussan did not go in the lean-to’s direction. Instead, he made for one of the tents. Mr Dog and his group followed cautiously again, but the mutt called a stop when Hussan walked straight past the lean-to to check on another generator. With a sinking feeling he realised that Hussan was only checking up on things he thought were valuable to the site – and he had amply demonstrated that rabbits, in his view, were anything but! Besides, the bolts on the door would make it impossible for anyone but a human being to make their way inside. Hussan would never check on the lean-to!
‘Change of plan,’ Mr Dog muttered, leading the way swiftly but stealthily towards the lean-to. ‘Rabbits, I’m sure your mother is inside that shelter. We just need to find a way to get to her!’
The animals had a couple of close calls. Socks knocked over a broom that brought Hussan dangerously close to discovering them; Mr Dog just managed to herd his posse behind some paving slabs in time. They had barely moved to the shelter of a large tarpaulin, hanging from a washing line, when Jo, the other archaeologist, walked past. She had collected the shards of broken pottery in a small plastic basin and was ready to try to put the pieces back together.
Socks rose up to whisper in Mr Dog’s ear. ‘That lady reminds me of my owner!’
Except Jo actually seems to be fond of rabbits, thought Mr Dog sadly. ‘Wait here, bunnies,’ he whispered. ‘I’m just going to scout out that lean-to, to see if I can find a way in for us all.’
As he started away, Socks came after him. He glanced back, c
hecking that Shoe, Flip-Flop and Sneaker couldn’t hear.
‘Mr Dog,’ he said, nose twitching, ‘you do think my owner is coming back for me … don’t you?’
Mr Dog hesitated. ‘No, Socks, I’m afraid I don’t. And I think, deep down, you know that too.’
Socks gave a quiet, shivery sigh. ‘They should’ve come back for me at once, shouldn’t they?’ He shook his head helplessly. ‘Why would they take me out into the wild? What did I do to make them want to get rid of me? I let children pick me up. I never bit anyone …’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Mr Dog gave him a supportive nudge with his nose. ‘Sometimes people get pets with good intentions, but things change. Perhaps they had to move abroad, or to a house with no garden? Perhaps they couldn’t afford to look after you any more? Or perhaps they decided that a pet was just too much of a tie?’ He sighed. ‘People can be silly and selfish. I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you,’ said Socks. He washed his whiskers and twitched his floppy ears. ‘Well, anyway, Sneaker, Flip-Flop and Shoe deserve to be with their mother. Let’s find her.’
‘Yes, Socks, let’s.’ Mr Dog grinned. ‘Come on. You check one side of the lean-to and I’ll check the other.’
The lean-to had recently been painted, and Mr Dog’s nose was overwhelmed by the smell. The door was securely bolted so they couldn’t get in that way. And though the shelter looked rough in places – the wooden walls nailed and braced together quite clumsily – it was strong enough to resist them breaking in.
Mr Dog doubled back to talk to Socks. ‘Did you find any sneaky ways inside?’
‘None,’ Socks said sadly. ‘How can we get to the rabbits locked up in there?’
‘Hmmm.’ Mr Dog looked at Socks. ‘I’ve got a plan, but it’s risky. Whatever happens to me, you must get Shoe, Flip-Flop and Sneaker back to their mother. They can’t last much longer.’
‘Me?’ Socks cringed. ‘Alone?’
‘You can do this. You have to.’ He gave Socks a pointed look. ‘They’re family … remember?’
