The Snow Puppy and Other Christmas Stories Page 3

  Neil knew how right he was when his dad brought Emily back from rehearsal. She was almost in tears. “It was awful. Everybody was upset, trying to work without Denny. And Gina’s really worried because Denny might freeze to death if he’s out all night in this snow.”

  “It almost makes you hope he has been stolen,” Bob said, taking his coat off. “At least a thief would keep him inside. It’ll be bitter outside tonight. If the snow keeps lying like it has been doing I can see problems ahead.”

  He shook the melting remains of snow off his coat. Jake flinched and his paws skittered on the floor as one of the flying drops hit him.

  “Hey Dad!” Neil protested, scooping Jake up.

  “Sorry, little fellow.” Bob grinned and rubbed Jake’s muzzle with one finger. “Didn’t see you down there.”

  “Maybe one of the dogs could track Denny,” Emily suggested, cheering up a bit. “Perhaps Bernie could do it.”

  “Not yet – I haven’t worked my magic on him!”

  “Modesty is not your strong point, is it?” Emily tried to hide a smile. “I think Jake could do a better job of tracking than Bernie.”

  Bob was still stroking the pup in Neil’s arms. “Somehow I don’t think so.” He smiled gently down at Jake. “He’s got a lot of learning to do first.”

  Just then Carole and Kate opened the back door and bustled into the warmth of the kitchen. Carole’s hands were filled with holly, covered in shiny scarlet berries. She laid it carefully on the table, then unwound her scarf and pulled off her woolly hat.

  “It’s cold enough out there to freeze your feet off,” she said. “Is there a hot drink on offer, Bob?”

  Bob hurriedly went to the sink to fill the kettle. Kate stripped off her gloves and blew on fingers turned pink with cold.

  “It’s at times like this,” she said, “that I fancy a job in a nice, warm office.”

  “No!” Emily protested. “You can’t!”

  Kate laughed. “I was only joking. I don’t really. But the snow’s getting worse. We’ll need skis to get across the courtyard tomorrow.”

  Neil looked out of the window again. A white veil of snowflakes whirled against the darkening sky.

  “Maybe we’ll be snowed in,” he suggested. “That would be ace!”

  His mother gave him one of her looks. “If we are, you’ll soon be wishing I’d shopped for more food. Feeding you lot is like feeding an army on the march. Not to mention the dogs!”

  Bob poured coffee into mugs and handed one to Kate. “You’re never going to be able to ride your bike home in this.”

  Kate wrapped her hands gratefully round the steaming mug. “No need to worry. Glen said he would collect me.”

  “Good,” said Bob. “And I really don’t think you should try to come in tomorrow.”

  “But the dogs still have to be looked after,” Kate objected. “It’s harder work when the weather’s like this.”

  Bob shrugged. “We’ll cope. But if it keeps on snowing, you might not be able to get here. And if you do, you might not be able to get home again. That would really mess up your plans for Christmas.”

  “What are you doing for Christmas, Kate?” Emily asked.

  “Spending it with Glen, of course,” said Neil, grinning. “Look, she’s gone bright red!”

  “Neil!” said his mother.

  Just then the doorbell rang. Emily went to answer it, and came back with Kate’s boyfriend, Glen Paget, his collar turned up and his long, fair hair plastered to his head with melting snow. He said hello to everyone, and scratched Jake behind the ears. “Hi there, midget. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Listen, Glen,” Carole said, “tell Kate that she’s not to try coming into work tomorrow. The snow’s getting worse. It’s not worth risking an accident.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Glen said to Kate. “It was hard enough getting here tonight.”

  Kate looked from Carole to Bob, and then back at Glen. Reluctantly, she nodded. “All right.”

  “And don’t look so guilty,” Bob told her. “Have an extra day’s holiday on the Puppy Patrol.”

  “And this,” added Carole, taking a parcel in shiny paper out of a cupboard and presenting it to Kate.

  Kate hugged it to her and thanked them. “I’m really sorry. I just hope you have a good Christmas.”

  “We will,” Bob said. “And you enjoy yours, too.”

  “I’ll make sure she does,” Glen promised cheerfully.

  As Kate and Glen were about to leave, Neil thought about Denny. Glen was involved with an Animal Rights group, and he might be able to shed some light on the crank phone call Beth had received.

  “Glen,” he asked, “do you know the Wards’ dog, Denny?”

  Glen shook his head. Quickly Neil explained about Denny’s cleverness, and how someone had phoned to tell Beth she was cruel to make the dog perform. “And now Denny’s missing,” he finished. “Do you know of anyone who might have taken him?”

  “To keep him out of the pantomime?” Glen thought for a minute. “That’s a tough one, Neil. Some people don’t like to see performing animals, but a trained pet dog is different from lions and tigers that should be in the wild. I can tell you this, nobody in my group would steal a dog. I doubt that it’s anything to do with Animal Rights.”

  “It doesn’t sound as if Denny was stolen,” Neil said when Glen and Kate had gone. He almost felt disappointed. At least an Animal Rights group would look after Denny.

  “So he might be wandering about in the snow,” said Emily, gloomy again. “And they’ve cancelled tomorrow’s rehearsal. If someone doesn’t find Denny soon, there won’t be any pantomime.”

  In the excitement of Jake’s arrival the night before, they’d forgotten the Christmas tree. Neil, Emily and Sarah decorated it in the sitting room after supper. Sarah insisted on Bob lifting her up so that she could put the glittery star she had made on the topmost branch. Carole kept the fragile baubles out of Jake’s reach, but the excitable little puppy still managed to roll himself up in tinsel.

  “He’s so sweet!” said Emily.

  Carole was on her knees disguising the very ordinary bucket that held the tree with shiny Christmas paper. She stopped what she was doing to unwind Jake

  “You’ll have to keep an eye on him, Neil,” she said. “I hate to think what he would do if you left him in here by himself.”

  “Sure, Mum.” Neil grinned, and scooped Jake up to pick the last strand of tinsel out of his glossy coat. “Behave yourself, Jake, do you hear? And make sure you don’t scare Father Christmas!”

  “I think we should write to Father Christmas and ask him to bring Denny back,” Sarah announced.

  “You’ve left it a bit late,” Emily said.

  “Well, I’m going to!”

  “You write if you want to, love,” Carole said. “The Wards couldn’t hope for a better Christmas present, that’s for sure.”

  On Christmas Eve morning Neil woke early. He looked out to see the courtyard and the roofs of the kennel blocks covered with snow. There had been another heavy snowfall during the night, but now only a few flakes were drifting slowly down. The bedroom window was covered with frost patterns, and icicles hung from the gutter above.

  The rest of the house was quiet. It would be a good time for a training session with Bernie. Neil would have to manage without a helper, but at least there would be no one there to laugh at him.

  He washed quickly, and dragged on jeans and a couple of thick sweaters, wondering what he could use to lay a trail of scent for Bernie. Then he had an idea.

  He took the pillowcase from his pillow, fished out some abandoned socks from under the bed and put them in the case, then topped it up with a couple of his shirts, a sweater and some more socks from the laundry basket. That lot should have plenty of his scent on them. Satisfied, he tied a knot in the top of the pillowcase and crept downstairs.

  When he got down to the kitchen, Jake was asleep, but Sam lifted his head alertly from h
is basket.

  “No, Sam,” Neil said. “Not now. It’s far too cold for you outside.”

  When he had put on his boots and padded jacket, Neil took his bundle outside into the exercise field. On one side of the field the powdery snow had drifted so that it came almost to the top of his boots, and his breath made a cloud in the icy morning air. Starting near the gate, he dragged the bundle through the snow where it wasn’t too deep, back and forth for a long way, and finally buried it.

  “Right,” he said to himself. “Let’s see what he makes of that.”

  Neil opened the door of Kennel Block Two a crack, and slid quietly inside. He didn’t want to wake all the dogs; the racket would wake everyone else, and his mum and dad would be furious.

  The air inside the block was warm, and the dogs were mostly still asleep. One or two raised their heads drowsily and watched Neil as he padded along the aisle between the pens.

  When he reached Bernie’s pen, Neil took the lead from the hook outside the door and went in. Bernie was snoring in a regular rumble that shook his whole body. Neil bent down and tugged at his collar.

  “Come on, boy! Wake up!”

  Bernie opened one liquid eye and closed it again. His snores died away into a kind of hiccup, and then started up again. Neil gave him a gentle shove.

  “Come on!”

  This time Bernie woke up properly, thrust himself to his feet and gave himself a shake. Neil grinned and slipped him a dog treat.

  “That’s better. Let’s go, Bernie!”

  As Neil led Bernie outside he heard a high-pitched yapping from the Pomeranian in the nearest pen, and Bundle’s deeper bark answering it from further down the row. Go back to sleep, he willed them silently, leading Bernie at a trot down the garden path and through the gate.

  Once in the exercise field, Neil forgot about the other dogs. Pulling out one of his socks that he’d stashed in his pocket, Neil waved it under Bernie’s nostrils. The dog’s nostrils flared as he sniffed it. Neil then unclipped Bernie’s lead and let him nose around in the snow, trying to encourage him to find the end of the scent trail he had laid.

  When Bernie reached it, he became quite excited, snuffling around with his nose in Neil’s footprints.

  Neil crouched down beside him. “Seek, Bernie!”

  Bernie nosed around again, and at last came back to Neil and planted a huge, snow-covered paw on his chest. Neil staggered back, laughing.

  “No, you daft dog! Other end . . . seek!”

  Somehow, Bernie seemed to grasp the idea. He plodded back and forth along the scent trail, until he reached the pillowcase that Neil had buried, and scraped energetically at the snow to uncover it.

  Neil stooped over him and gave him a big hug. “Brill, Bernie! Well done!”

  He fed Bernie a couple of dog treats, and decided he would end the training session there. Next time, Bernie would remember he had done well. If I play with him for a bit, Neil thought, he’ll want to try again.

  They had ended up near the clump of bushes at the far end of the field. Neil found a stick, and threw it for Bernie. The huge dog lolloped back and forth, scattering snow everywhere, enjoying the game just as if he were a pup like Jake.

  Neil only remembered the time when snow started to fall again. It soon came down in multiple sheets of tingly, wet drops and Neil quickly called Bernie back to him.

  “Breakfast, Bernie?”

  He was sure the St Bernard grinned at him.

  He clipped on the lead again and tried to lead him away but instead Bernie sat rock-like, and gave a yawn. Neil tugged the lead gently, and when Bernie still did not respond he hauled on the St Bernard’s collar. It was like trying to shift a cart-horse. “Up, Bernie! Come on! Just for me?” Neil beamed at the dog. “Please?”

  At last Bernie heaved himself to his feet and trundled off up the field, with Neil striding alongside him, picking up the pillowcase as he went. As soon as Bernie reached the gate, he flopped to the ground again.

  Neil swung open the gate and motioned for Bernie to go through.

  Bernie dropped his nose to his paws looking completely uninterested.

  “I don’t often beg, Bernie, but will you please come back to the kennels with me? The snow is going down my neck!”

  The St Bernard’s head swivelled to look at Neil, and then with a ripple of muscles he rose and plodded back towards the kennels. Already the snow was so heavy that he could hardly see the shape of the house and the kennel blocks, but as he drew closer, he could make out the figure of his father coming towards him across the courtyard. Neil broke into a run, with Bernie alongside him.

  “Dad!” he panted, as he reached him. “You’ll never guess what Bernie . . .”

  His voice died away as he saw his father’s face. Bob Parker was hardly ever angry, but he looked angry now.

  “Neil,” he said, “what exactly have you been doing?”

  5

  “Sorry?” Neil said, staring up into his father’s face.

  “I hope you are.” Bob still sounded grim. He motioned for Neil to follow him across the courtyard. “Your mother and I were woken up at some unearthly hour by all the dogs barking their heads off—”

  “Oops,” said Neil. “When we found out that Bernie was missing from his pen, the first thing we thought was that somebody must have broken into the kennels. Then your mother looked into your room, and found you were missing as well.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I just thought it was a good chance to give Bernie a bit of training. And he—”

  “You didn’t think at all,” Bob interrupted. He stopped as they came to the door of Kennel Block One; when he spoke again he sounded less angry. “Neil, I know you meant it for the best. But your mum and I have got enough to do today, especially when Kate isn’t here, without having to look for a missing dog that isn’t missing at all. I was within a couple of minutes of ringing the police. Go and put Bernie back in his pen right now. And Neil . . . try to be a bit more sensible in future.”

  When Neil had kennelled Bernie he went back to the house and found the rest of the family having breakfast round the kitchen table. Sam and Jake were both looking on hopefully. Neil stamped snow off his boots.

  “That smells good,” he said, sniffing appreciatively as Carole dished up sausages and bacon.

  “Think yourself lucky that I didn’t give yours to Jake,” Carole said. “Sit down and . . . Neil – what in the world is that?”

  Neil was still carrying the pillowcase full of clothes that he had used to lay the scent trail for Bernie.

  “It’s just clothes and stuff,” he explained. “I used it to—”

  “If you ask me, you’ve been playing football with it!” Carol said. “Neil, just look at it! That was a good pillowcase.”

  Neil looked at his bundle properly for the first time since Bernie had dug it up. He had to admit it was filthy, and it had got torn a bit. Still, in Neil’s view, it was worth it if it had helped to train Bernie.

  “You see, Mum—”

  “I don’t want to know.” Carole sounded exasperated. “I really don’t. Just take it up to the laundry basket, and then come and have your breakfast.”

  The snow went on falling. By the time breakfast was over, the footprints Neil and his dad had made in the courtyard were filled in again.

  “I’m glad I finished the Christmas shopping,” Carole said, as she cleared the table. “I wouldn’t fancy driving in this.”

  Bob got up, nodding at Neil and Emily. “Come on, you two. Feeding time.”

  Without Kate, it took longer than usual to make up the feeds for the boarding dogs. Bob measured out the different diets, while Neil and Emily transported the bowls of food and water to the two kennel blocks and the rescue centre. Carole stayed indoors to get on with Christmas preparations.

  “To think I ever wanted snow!” Neil groaned, slipping and narrowly saving the food bowl he was carrying. Even in gloves his fingers felt like icicles. The falling snow was so intense he could hard
ly see across the courtyard. He couldn’t help wondering what would happen to Denny, if he was out in this. There had been no word from Beth or Gina since the day before and Neil could imagine how they must be feeling.

  When the feeding was done, Neil and Emily went back into the kitchen, where Carole had hot drinks ready. A tray of mince pies had appeared on the kitchen table. Neil reached for one.

  “Hands off!” Carole swatted him. “They’re for tomorrow.”

  “Quality control, Mum,” Neil protested.

  To avoid any more arguments, Carole put a packet of chocolate biscuits on the table. “Is there any sign of the dog food?” she asked Bob.

  “No. I’m starting to wonder if the delivery van will be able to get through. I’m going to give Preston’s a ring.” Bob drained his mug and went out into the hall.

  Emily said, “Is there any news of Denny?”

  Carole shook her head. “I’d have told you if there was. Try not to worry, love. He might have found shelter somewhere.”

  She meant to be comforting, but she still sounded anxious. Everybody knew the danger Denny was in. Even watching Jake’s antics as he tried to chase his own tail couldn’t cheer Neil up. And he couldn’t think of anything more that they could do.

  When Bob came back, he was looking worried as well, but for a different reason.

  “I got through to the delivery manager, and he told me the snow had messed up all their schedules. Only to be expected, I suppose. He said he’d try to get a van through to us, but he couldn’t promise.”

  “Well,” Carole said, “we’ve food for a couple of days. Let’s see . . .” She started counting on her fingers. “Today’s Thursday. Christmas Day and Boxing Day . . . Bob, if they don’t deliver today, there won’t be another delivery until next Monday.”

  “What are we going to do?” asked Neil.

  “There’s the Cash and Carry on the other side of Compton,” Carole said. “It’ll be expensive but we could buy some cases of tinned dog food there, and biscuits.”

  “Getting there’s the problem,” said Bob. He straightened up. “Let’s leave it until lunch time. Then we’ll decide. Neil, come and help me clear the drive so we can get the car out, and if the Preston’s van arrives, it can get in.”