Werepuppy and the Werepuppy on Holiday Read online

  ‘It would be a good idea,’ said Mum. ‘Just a little dog. A very friendly one. Maybe a puppy. We’ll have to see what they’ve got.’

  ‘No,’ said Micky.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mum.

  ‘No, no, no!’ said Micky, but Mum just drove on.

  She drew up outside a white house with a notice saying Webb’s Dog Shelter. Micky hunched up in his seat, imagining hundreds of dogs sheltering behind those white walls. He pictured them grinding their teeth and sharpening their claws. Then Mum opened the car door and he heard a high-pitched howl…

  4…

  ‘Please, Mum,’ Micky begged. ‘I can’t go in there!’

  Mum wouldn’t listen. She made Micky get out of the car.

  She knocked on the front door of the dogs’ home. The howling increased, and then there was a lot of barking too. Micky clung to Mum’s arm, and even Marigold took a step backwards. The door opened and a young freckled woman in jeans stood there smiling, surrounded by two barking Labradors, the colour of clotted cream, and a small black Scottie who kept diving through the Labradors’ legs.

  ‘Quiet, you silly dogs,’ the woman shouted. She saw Micky shrinking away and said quickly, ‘It’s OK, they’re all very friendly. They won’t bite. There’s no need to be frightened of them.’

  ‘I’m not frightened,’ said Marigold, squatting down to pet the Scottie, while the two Labradors sniffed and nuzzled. ‘Aren’t they lovely? What are their names? Shall we have the little Scottie dog, Mum? Although I like the big creamy dogs too. Oh look, this one’s smiling at me.’

  ‘That’s Tumble. And that’s her brother Rough.’

  ‘Oh great. We’re a sister and brother and we can have a sister dog and brother dog.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid Rough and Tumble are my dogs. And wee Jeannie here. But there are plenty of other lovely dogs to choose from out the back. I’ve got lots of strays at the moment. Come through to the kennels.’

  ‘I’ll wait outside,’ Micky hissed, trying to dodge Rough and Tumble’s big wet licks.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Micky,’ said Mum. ‘This is going to be your dog. You’ve got to choose.’

  ‘I’ll choose for him,’ said Marigold, still playing with Jeannie. She rolled over and let Marigold tickle her tummy. ‘There, look! She loves being tickled, doesn’t she? It’s my magic trick of taming all dogs. Maybe I’ll be a dog trainer in a circus as well as a bare-back rider.’

  ‘I think it’s a trick that only works with little friendly dogs like Jeannie,’ said Miss Webb. ‘You shouldn’t even touch some of the big dogs I’ve got out the back, just in case.’

  ‘I’m not scared of any dogs, even really big ones,’ Marigold boasted. ‘Not like my brother.

  He’s older than me too, and yet he’s ever so scared.’

  ‘No I’m not,’ Micky said hoarsely, but at that moment Jeannie nudged against his leg and he gave a little yelp of terror.

  ‘See that!’ said Marigold triumphantly. ‘He’s even scared of a little Scottie. He’s hopeless, isn’t he? I don’t know why Mum wants to get him a dog, it’s just daft, isn’t it? She ought to get me a dog, seeing as I’m the one that likes them. And dogs don’t need a special stable, do they? Just a little kennel.’

  ‘Or even an old cardboard box,’ said Miss Webb. ‘I’ve got special big kennels at the back of my house because I always have so many stray dogs on my hands.’ She turned back to Micky. ‘But it’s OK, they’re all in separate pens and they can’t get out’

  ‘He’ll still be scared,’ said Marigold. ‘He’s even scared of me.’ She suddenly darted at Micky, going woof-woof-woof and poor Micky was so strung up and startled by this time that he jumped and very nearly burst into tears.

  ‘Marigold!’ said Mum, but she gave Micky a shake too, obviously embarrassed.

  Marigold just laughed and Miss Webb was trying hard to keep a straight face. Micky blinked desperately, and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. His face was scarlet, his whole body burning.

  ‘We’ve got some puppies out the back,’ said Miss Webb. ‘They’re really sweet and cuddly. I’d have a puppy if I were you.’

  Micky’s throat ached so much he could barely speak.

  ‘I don’t really want any dog. Not even a puppy, thank you,’ he croaked.

  ‘Just take a look, Micky,’ said Mum, giving him a little push.

  So Micky had to go with them to the kennels at the back of the house. The howling got louder. It had a strange eerie edge to it. Marigold put her hands over her ears.

  ‘Which one’s making that horrid noise?’ she complained.

  ‘Yes, sorry. That’s a stray we picked up last night. He’s been making that row ever since, though we’ve done our best to comfort him. He’s only a puppy, but he’s a vicious little thing all the same. I certainly wouldn’t recommend him for a family pet, especially as the little boy’s so nervous.’

  ‘I bet I could tame him,’ Marigold boasted. She approached the pen in the corner, where a big grey puppy stood tensely, head back, howling horribly.

  ‘Nice doggie,’ said Marigold, and the puppy quivered and then stopped in mid-howl.

  ‘See that!’ said Marigold excitedly. ‘There, I’ve stopped him. He’s coming over to see me. Here, boy. You like me, don’t you? Do you want to be my doggie, eh? You can’t be Micky’s dog because he’s such a silly little wet wimp.’

  Micky couldn’ t stand the word wimp. It sounded so horrible and feeble and ugly and pimply.

  ‘Don’t call Micky silly names,’ said Mum.

  ‘Well, it’s true. He really is a wimp. Even Dad says so,’ said Marigold, reaching through the bars to pat the strange grey puppy. ‘Dad says I should have been his boy because I’ve got all the spark, while Micky’s just a wimp.’

  Micky burned all over. He shut his eyes, his whole skin prickling, itching unbearably. He could still hear the howling but now it seemed to be right inside his own head. He ground his teeth…. and then suddenly Marigold screamed.

  Micky opened his eyes. He stared at his shrieking sister. The grey puppy had a fierce grip of her finger and was biting hard with his litde razor teeth.

  ‘Get it off me! Help, help! Oh, Mum, help, it hurts!’ Marigold yelled.

  A very naughty little grin bared Micky’s teeth almost as if he was biting too. Then he shook his head and Marigold managed to snatch her finger away from the savage little pup.

  ‘Bad boy,’ said Miss Webb to the excited puppy. ‘I’m so sorry he went for you, dear. Mind you, I did try to warn you. You mustn’t ever take silly risks with stray dogs. Let’s have a look at that finger and see what damage has been done.’

  ‘It’s bleeding!’ Marigold screamed.

  ‘Come on now, lovie, it’s only a little scratch,’ said Mum, giving her a cuddle.

  ‘Still, it’s better not to take any risks. We’ll give it a dab of disinfectant and find you a bandage,’ said Miss Webb.

  She led the wailing Marigold back into the house. Mum followed, looking a little agitated.

  Micky didn’t follow. He stayed where he was, out by the dog pens. He took no notice of all the ordinary dogs obedient in their pens. He didn’t even give the cute Labrador puppies snuggled in their basket a second glance. He only had eyes for the strange grey puppy that had bitten Marigold.

  It ran towards Micky. Micky didn’t back away. He didn’t feel so scared. And the puppy seemed to have perked up too. He didn’t howl any more. He made little friendly snuffling sounds.

  ‘You just bit my sister,’ Micky whispered.

  The puppy coughed several times. It sounded almost as if he was chuckling. Micky started giggling too.

  ‘That was bad,’ Micky spluttered, his hand over his mouth so they wouldn’t hear back in the house. ‘But we don’t care, do we?’

  The puppy shook his head. He came right up against the bars of his pen, sticking out his soft pointed snout. His amber eyes were wide and trusting now.

  ‘Are you trying to make friend