The Snow Puppy and Other Christmas Stories Read online

  Neil nodded, taking it all in.

  “I’ve brought some of the puppy meal we’ve been using,” Jane went on. “You can change to your own once he’s settled in.”

  Sarah was still watching Jake as he drank. “I’d like a puppy for Christmas,” she said.

  “You’re always wanting a puppy!” laughed Neil.

  “You’re too young to look after a puppy on your own yet,” Carole explained. “But I’m sure Neil would like some help with Jake once he’s settled in.”

  “You’re just a pup yourself, Squirt!” said Emily.

  Neil didn’t say anything.

  “Besides,” said Bob, “remember that a puppy’s for life, not just for Christmas.” Every year the Parkers had to find new homes for pups who’d been given as Christmas presents and then abandoned by owners who couldn’t cope. People just didn’t realize what a responsibility a puppy could be.

  As Jake finished his drink Carole said to Neil, “You should really take him outside after that. But it’s so cold I’ve put some newspaper down by the door. Use that for now. Just lift him over there and see if he gets the idea.”

  Neil did as his mother suggested, but Jake immediately bounced off the newspaper again. Neil put him back. Jake gave him a look as if he wanted to say, “What’s all this about?” but after a minute he squatted down and produced the expected puddle.

  “Well done, boy! Good dog!” Neil praised him, while Sarah jumped up and down and clapped as if the pup had done something clever. Maybe he had; it was better than in the middle of the floor. All the same, Neil thought, as he collected up the soggy newspaper, he’d be much happier when it was warm enough for Jake to go outside.

  When Neil went down to breakfast next morning, Jake was romping round the kitchen.

  After feeding Sam and then the puppy, he sat down for his own breakfast just as Bob Parker came in through the back door in a swirl of fluffy snow.

  “Shut the door, Dad!” cried Emily, already seated at the table. “You’re letting the warm air out.”

  “Yeah, and think of Jake! He’ll catch a chill!” Neil warned, pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

  The puppy danced around Bob’s wellington boots, sniffing the sludgy snow as it fell to the floor and seeming oblivious to the icy blast.

  Bob unzipped his thick winter jacket and stomped his feet on the floormat. He nudged Jake back towards his basket. “Sorry, but it’s absolutely freezing out there – I had to come inside again for a moment to get warmed up. I’ve been chipping the ice off the barn doors. They’re getting almost impossible to open.”

  Neil looked up. “Is it that bad?”

  “Worst I’ve seen for a long time. Make sure you’ve got proper boots on if you go out. The snow is already fairly deep between here and the kennel blocks. I hope it doesn’t go on too much longer or we’ll have trouble keeping things running.”

  Emily laughed and pointed towards a pile of post on the table. “Anyway, if the mail’s still being delivered it can’t be that bad!”

  Neil flicked through the pile. Most of the letters were for Bob and Carole, but there was a copy of the animal magazine that Emily subscribed to, and one large white envelope for him. Neil ripped it open.

  “Hey, great,” he said. “Look, it’s a card from Max and Prince.” Quickly he read the few lines scribbled inside the card. “Max says they’re recording up here again in the New Year. He might be able to drop in and see us.”

  Max Hooper, with his dog Prince, was the star of the Parkers’ favourite TV programme, Time Travellers, and not long ago, Neil and Emily had been extras in an episode recorded at Padsham Castle. Neil and Max had kept in touch ever since, and Neil was delighted at the thought of seeing his friend again. He was sure Max and Prince would love to meet Jake.

  Carole had served up eggs and bacon, and was now looking through her own cards.

  “One from Mr Bradshaw and Marjorie,” she said, passing it over to Bob. “And one from Eddie and Maureen Thomas, and Blackie – look at the paw-print! And a calendar from Preston’s – Bob, that reminds me. Did you check up when they’ll deliver the dog food I ordered in for the holidays? We’ll be needing it before long.”

  Bob swallowed a mouthful of bacon. “I rang them yesterday. They’ve got problems fitting in all the deliveries before Christmas, but they promised me it would be here by tomorrow at the latest.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Carole said.

  After breakfast, Neil got ready to help with the kennel work.

  “Don’t forget to wrap up warm,” said Carole. “The snow didn’t let up overnight.”

  When Neil opened the back door he saw the courtyard covered with a layer of white, already criss-crossed by lines of footprints from the kennel blocks to the house, the barn, and the separate block that housed the rescue centre. Thin, wispy flakes of snow fluttered down and swirled all round.

  Neil pulled down his hat over his ears, and launched himself into the snow.

  In the store room he found Kate McGuire, the King Street kennel maid, measuring out the feeds for the boarding dogs. Her fair hair was tied back, and she was wearing some thin thermal gloves.

  “Hi!” Neil said. “Jane brought Jake round last night. Are you coming to see him?”

  “You bet,” Kate said. “Just as soon as I’ve finished here. This is the last batch.” She dug the scoop deep into the sack of biscuits. “We’re running low. I hope we get that delivery before Christmas.”

  “Tomorrow, Dad said,” Neil told her. “Do you want me to take these in?” He nodded towards the bowls.

  King Street Kennels had two kennel blocks, with the store room between them. Each of the blocks had two rows of ten pens, with an aisle down the middle, and each pen had its own separate exercise run. Today, though, the doors to the runs were closed, to keep out the cold.

  As Neil opened the door of Kennel Block Two, a blast of warm air greeted him. The blocks were heated during the colder weather by pipes running through the concrete floor; his dad must have turned the heating right up.

  The frantic barking of the last few hungry dogs sank to a contented snuffling as they pushed their noses into their bowls. With the job done, Neil took a few minutes to talk to the dogs. Some of them had been regular visitors to King Street for years.

  “Hello there, Bundle,” he said, stopping in front of a hairy mongrel who had spent some time in the rescue centre. The last time Bundle was at King Street, he’d been bright pink – the result of a cruel practical joke. “You’re looking well.”

  He slipped Bundle a dog treat from the supply he always carried in his pocket. Next to Bundle was Flora, a Jack Russell who was a regular visitor, and next to her a Welsh corgi called Taffy.

  The pen at the far end of the block had been empty when Neil went out the day before. Now it was occupied. Neil peered in to see one of the biggest dogs he’d ever seen, sitting and looking back at him with a sorrowful expression in his liquid brown eyes. The dog had a shaggy brown and white coat, with a white muzzle and chest, and black shading on his face and ears.

  “A St Bernard!” Neil exclaimed. “Wow, you’re massive, aren’t you?” He held out a titbit through the mesh, half afraid that the enormous dog would swallow his fingers as well.

  Neil heard Kate’s footsteps approaching him down the aisle.

  “What’s his name, Kate?” asked Neil.

  “Bernie. His owner left him here yesterday, while he goes off to Spain for some winter sun.” She flicked some snowflakes off her shoulders. “Can’t say I blame him.”

  “But it’s warm in here. Anyway, if one of us gets lost in the snow, Bernie can come and find us.”

  Kate laughed. “Don’t bet on it. His owner, John Cartwright, used to train dogs for the mountain rescue service, before he retired. He told me that Bernie was the only dog he’d never been able to train at all.”

  Neil stared at the St Bernard again. “He’s never saved anybody?”

  “Not one.”

>   Huh, Neil thought, I bet I could train him! Then he stopped himself. He mustn’t get too bigheaded. John Cartwright was a professional, after all, and if he couldn’t train Bernie . . . Neil gave the big dog a last glance as he followed the others out of the kennel block. All the same, he thought, I’d like to have a try.

  As Neil crossed the courtyard again, blowing warm air into his gloved hands, he glanced through the side gate and saw a blue Mini turn into the drive. The car glided silently to a halt on the deepening snow and Gina Ward scrambled out almost before it had stopped. Neil walked over to meet her.

  “Hi,” he said. “Have you come to—”

  He broke off, noticing her tears. “Neil, it’s awful!” she said. “We’ve lost Denny!”

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  “Lost Denny?” Neil echoed. “What do you mean? How?”

  “I don’t know.” Gina twisted the ends of her scarf worriedly. She looked very upset. “He went out in the garden this morning, and when I went to call him in, he’d gone!”

  “Are you sure he isn’t hiding?”

  While they were talking, Gina’s sister Beth had got out of the driver’s seat and come to join them.

  “Have you seen our garden, Neil?” she asked. “A mouse couldn’t hide in there, never mind a dog the size of Denny. I found a loose post in the fence; I think he must have squeezed out that way.”

  “Have you tried following his paw marks in the snow?” Neil suggested.

  Gina shook her head. “It wasn’t any good. We could see his prints in the garden, but too many people had been up and down the lane outside.” Gina looked up at the white snowflakes drifting down all round them. “Maybe the snow confused him. It’s the first time he’s seen it settle so deeply. Everything looks so different – even our garden.”

  “I rang the police,” Beth said, “but they haven’t heard anything yet. They suggested getting in touch with your dad.”

  That didn’t surprise Neil. Stray dogs in and around Compton often ended up at the King Street rescue centre. Neil had lost count of how many frantic owners the Parkers had reunited with their pets. He knew how Gina and Beth must be feeling but there was nothing he could do to help them – Denny wasn’t here.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “but we’ve not heard anything, either.”

  Beth shook her head. “I didn’t expect you would have, really. I know you would have rung us. But we had to give it a try. You will get in touch if he turns up?”

  “Of course we will. You’d better come and give his details to Mum. And let’s get inside – it’s freezing standing here.”

  Neil led Beth and Gina to the office. Emily had seen the car from the house, and ran to meet them at the door. She was shocked to hear that Denny was missing.

  “What about the pantomime?” she asked. “We can’t do it without Denny. He’s too important!”

  “I know,” said Beth. “And he’s usually so good. I can’t help thinking something horrible has happened.”

  Carole looked up from her desk. “Don’t say that. It’s early days yet. Let’s not jump to conclusions, eh?” She sat Gina and Beth down in front of the desk and began to record Denny’s details for the rescue centre files. Neil and Emily crowded round to listen.

  “He was definitely wearing his collar,” Gina said. “It has a tag with his name and our phone number. So if someone has found him, why haven’t they let us know? Only a thief wouldn’t call.”

  “I know this is horrible for you, but you’ve got to keep calm,” Carole said. “He’s only been missing two or three hours and it doesn’t do any good to think the worst.”

  Neil exchanged a worried glance with Emily. Denny was such a clever dog, and so well-trained, that if a thief knew about him he might think he could sell him for a good price.

  “Have you seen anybody suspicious hanging around?” he asked.

  Beth looked blank, and said that as far as she could recall there was nobody in the lane when she let Denny into the garden that morning.

  “Tell them about that phone call,” said Gina, nudging her sister’s arm.

  Beth nodded. “Just two or three days ago I had an anonymous phone call. It was a man. He sounded very reasonable at first – asking me lots of questions about the pantomime. Eventually he claimed we were being cruel to Denny by teaching him tricks and making him perform. He asked me not to use him in the show.”

  “Huh!” Emily snorted. “You don’t have to make Denny perform. He loves it!”

  “What did you say?” Neil asked.

  “Nothing. I just put the phone down.”

  “And did you tell the police?” Carole made a note on the card where she was recording Denny’s details.

  “No.” Beth shrugged. “I thought it was just some crank. But now I wonder whether he came and stole Denny to stop him being in the pantomime.”

  Everybody was silent for a minute. Neil knew that some trainers were cruel to performing animals, and some kinds of animal were unhappy in captivity, but none of that applied to Denny. He was a happy, healthy dog, and Neil had seen at the rehearsal how he loved to show off. Even so, somebody who didn’t know him might think he was rescuing him from ill-treatment.

  “I think you should report it to the police now,” said Carole.

  “Yes, I will.” Beth glanced at her watch. “Come on, Gina. Emily, I’ll see you later on at rehearsal.”

  “But will we be doing the pantomime, if Denny can’t be found?” Emily protested.

  “I don’t know. But we can still rehearse. There are lots of scenes that Denny isn’t in.” She gave Emily a little shake, and managed to smile. “Cheer up, Emily. The show must go on!”

  “I’ve worked out a training programme for Bernie,” Neil announced at lunchtime. He sat at the kitchen table, carefully avoiding Jake, who was making little growly rushes at his feet.

  “For Bernie?” Bob Parker gave his spaghetti sauce on the cooker a last stir. “I thought you had enough to do, training Jake.”

  Neil felt himself going red. “Yes, well . . . I thought it would be a surprise for Mr Cartwright.”

  “John Cartwright has been training dogs for years,” Carole pointed out. “If he says Bernie is untrainable . . .”

  “But there’s no harm in trying,” Neil said. “Em, you’ll help me, won’t you?”

  Emily sat down, and pushed her untidy dark hair out of her eyes.

  “Not now. I’ve got a rehearsal. If I’ve got time later I might give you a hand.”

  “Sarah?” Asking for his little sister’s help was a last resort for Neil – but probably better than nothing.

  “I’m going to build a snowman!” Sarah said. “Fudge is going to help me.”

  “Thanks a bunch,” Neil muttered. He was beginning to think that his attempt at training Bernie would have to wait.

  “It’s too cold for Fudge to be outside,” Carole said, as she began serving out the sauce. “But Neil’s very good at building snowmen.” She gave Neil a hard look. “Aren’t you, Neil?”

  Neil shrugged. “Oh, sure.”

  Bob chuckled. “And don’t be too disappointed if Bernie doesn’t co-operate when you do get a chance to take him out. I don’t think snow and Bernie get along very well together!”

  When Emily had gone to her rehearsal, Neil helped Sarah to build a snowman in the courtyard during a break in the weather. He rolled a huge snowball for the body while Sarah made a smaller one for the head. She fetched an old hat and a scarf, while Neil raided the storeroom for biscuits to make eyes, a nose and mouth.

  Neil bent down and plunged his hand deep into a large, brown sack. Scrabbling round at the bottom, he pulled out a handful of dog biscuits and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. On his way out, he noticed that they really were getting low on dog food – there was probably only enough to last a couple of days.

  When he went back into the courtyard he found Sarah rolling a third snowball.

  “Not another snowman!” he protested. “I’m freezing. And it’s get
ting harder to walk in this stuff!” Neil kicked out at a lump of snow on the ground.

  “No, stupid,” Sarah said. “This is a snow dog!”

  They finished off the snow dog with a curved twig for a tail and Sarah’s scarf around its neck. She didn’t want it getting cold. It didn’t look like any breed of dog Neil had ever seen. Just as they had completed their snow sculpture, it started to snow again, big wet flakes that settled on the window ledge and the ground and the roofs of the kennel blocks. They had to leave the snowman and his dog, and take shelter. If the snow got much deeper, Neil thought, they might get cut off for Christmas.

  As Neil went into the kitchen, something tiny collided with his foot. He looked down to see Jake trying to attack his boot. Jake was into feet. If you were that small, Neil thought, feet might be the most important thing you could see.

  Grinning, he squatted down and tickled the little black and white pup on the tummy. “What about some training, Jake?”

  Neil started by calling Sam over from his basket. The Border collie came promptly and stood looking at Neil with an alert expression.

  “Now watch this,” Neil said to Jake. He took out a dog treat, showed it to Sam, and said, “Sit!” Sam sat at once; Neil gave him the treat and praised him. “Now, Jake, do you think you can do that?”

  Jake had watched with an interested look in his bright eyes, but as soon as Neil took out another titbit he started bouncing around, trying to reach his hand.

  “No!” said Neil.

  He held out the dog treat to Jake, who sniffed it while his little tail wagged excitedly. Neil lifted the titbit above his head, and Jake sat down to keep his eyes on it more easily. He gave Jake the titbit and fondled his ears as the puppy wolfed it down.

  Looking at Jake, Neil thought about Beth and Gina, who must have been missing Denny desperately. He wished he could do something to help. It would be a miserable Christmas for the Ward family without Denny.

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