Werepuppy and the Werepuppy on Holiday Read online

  ‘It’s just for a minute, Wolfie,’ said Micky.

  Wolfie behaved as if a minute might be an entire lifetime. He growled and howled and when Micky tried to pat him to reassure him he snapped at his hand, nearly biting him.

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Micky firmly. ‘You’re not to bite me. I’m your friend. We’re pals, you and me. So you’ve got to learn to do as I say, right?’

  Wolfie sniffed and grumbled, but he lowered his head submissively, and diis time when Micky patted him he didn’t snap at all.

  ‘Wow,’ said Micky softly. Wolfie really had done as he was told. No one had ever obeyed Micky before. He obviously couldn’t tell Mum and Dad what to do. Meryl and Mandy and Mona would squash him if he tried to give them orders. Marigold always argued as a matter of course and did her best to boss him about instead.

  ‘But we can boss her now, can’t we, Wolfie?’ said Micky. ‘Right, you stay there, out of harm’s way. I promise you, I’ll just be two ticks.’

  Micky took the step-ladder and dragged it outside. He got a stout cardboard box to be temporary accommodation for the rabbits while he was fixing them up a desirable new residence. He leant the ladder against the wall of the garden shed. He undid the catch of the hutch and put first one then the other rabbit into the cardboard box. They were still in a shaky way, especially as Wolfie had started howling miserably inside the shed.

  Then Micky took hold of the hutch and lifted it. It was quite a struggle. It was almost impossible holding it under one arm and trying to climb the ladder. He knew he ought to call one or other of his sisters to help him. Someone at least ought to hold on to the ladder in case it slipped. Micky had always hated ladders. When he was little Dad had taken him to the playground in the park and put him on the big ladder to go on the slide. Micky had got half-way up the ladder, and then looked down. That had been a mistake. He’d shut his eyes and screamed. Dad had had to climb up the ladder to rescue him. Dad hadn’t been best pleased. Micky shut his eyes momentarily, hating the memory.

  Wolfie howled harder inside the shed. There was a sudden crash. Several further crashes, and frenzied barking. Wolfie had obviously got free. Micky had shut the door so Wolfie couldn’t get out. He could, however, make quite a mess inside the shed. There was another bump and crash. Micky thought of all Dad’s gardening things and the seed trays and the potted plants. Oh dear.

  The rabbits were getting resdess too. Micky could see Rachel’s paws right at the top of the cardboard box. She was so fat she’d tip it right over any minute.

  ‘Get cracking,’ said Micky, and he quickly clawed his way up the ladder, hanging on grimly to the hutch as he climbed. It dug hard into the soft flesh of his arm, scratching and tearing, but it couldn’t be helped. His whole shoulder felt dislocated as he struggled to keep hold of the hutch, and his hands were so slippy with sweat that he very nearly dropped it, he very nearly slipped himself, he very nearly stumbled right off the rung into thin air… but he didn’t! He got there. He got right to the top of the garden shed and he rolled the hutch onto it and then stood panting at the top of the ladder, stretching his freed arms in delight.

  But he couldn’t hang about. He hurried down the ladder, he picked up Rachel rabbit, tucking her right inside his T-shirt. He’d never been all that keen on rabbits and she scrabbled in a rather disgusting way, but it couldn’t be helped. He climbed up the ladder, his T-shirt wriggling violently, he got the hutch door open, he deposited Rachel inside, he shut the catch, he scrambled down the ladder, he picked up Roberta, he posted her down his T-shirt too, he climbed up the ladder, he had a terrible job getting the hutch door open, keeping Rachel in whilst still struggling to extract Roberta from inside his shirt; he struggled and they wriggled and he swore at them and told them they were so silly they almost deserved to be turned into rabbit stew, but at long last Roberta was in the hutch with Rachel and the catch was closed on them both. He’d done it! The rabbits were safe, out of Wolfie’s way, in a lovely new high-rise site.

  ‘Yippy!’ said Micky, and he practically bounced down the ladder. He got the garden shed door open and Wolfie flew at him, covered with earth and seedlings, barking joyously.

  ‘What’s that creature doing in my garden?’

  It was Dad home from work. Micky quivered like the rabbits, his nostrils twitching. He looked at the fumbled flowers, the squashed shrubs, the earthquake spilling out of the garden shed. Dad seemed to be getting taller and fiercer and redder in the face, whilst Micky whizzed right down to a small scared mouse.

  ‘This is my puppy, Dad,’ Micky squeaked.

  ‘Who said you could have a dog? I thought you were scared of them? Look at all this mess! You obviously haven’t got a clue how to look after him. I’m not having this. You can’t keep him.’

  ‘But he’s mine!’ said Micky.

  Wolfle barked to show that Micky was his.

  ‘Look, you don’t know anything about dogs.

  You can’t let them run wild like this. You’ve got to let them know who’s boss,’ Dad shouted, showing Micky who was Boss.

  Wolfie didn’t like Dad’s tone. He approached Dad with his teeth bared, growling.

  ‘Don’t you growl at me, you silly little puppy,’ said Dad, and he put out a finger in warning.

  This was a mistake. ‘Ouch!’ Dad yelled.

  Wolfie bristled and growled, ready to have another go.

  ‘Get away, you little brute. Quiet! Get off.’ Dad cried.

  Wolfie advanced rapidly. Dad started to back. He waved his hands about. He started sweating. He looked worried.

  ‘Down, Wolfie!’ Micky called. ‘Here, boy. Come to me. It’s OK, Dad. He won’t really hurt you.’

  And Wolfie shook his head and stopped growling, bounding over to Micky.

  ‘That’s my dad, Wolfie. You mustn’t bite him, you bad boy,’ said Micky, bending down and rubbing noses with Wolfie.

  ‘Well I’m blowed,’ said Dad, weakly.

  ‘I’m ever so sorry about all the mess, Dad. I’ll pay for some more flowers and seeds and stuff out of my pocket money, I promise.’

  ‘He’s turned the whole garden into a tip,’ said Dad, but he didn’t sound so cross now. ‘And what on earth is that rabbit hutch doing on top of the shed?’

  ‘Oh. Well, I had to put it there. Out of Wolfie’s way,’ said Micky.

  ‘You put it there? You went up that ladder?’

  ‘Yes, and I suppose it’s going to be a bit of a nuisance for Meryl when she has to climb up to give Rachel and Roberta their supper, but I’ll try to get Wolfie really trained soon. Only do let me keep him, Dad. I have to have him. It’s like he’s part of me already,’ said Micky.

  ‘I didn’t know you had it in you, son,’ Dad murmured. ‘All right then, Micky. You can keep your puppy. For the moment.’

  6…

  It seemed a good idea to feed Wolfie as soon as possible as he’d already chewed several fingers, tried to eat a rabbit supper, and now, after a sniff at Wilbur rat and a gnaw at Mona, he was severely worrying Marigold’s My Little Ponies.

  ‘I’ll get some proper dog food tomorrow,’ said Mum. ‘Meanwhile I wonder if he’d like a hamburger? He certainly looks ready for proper meat. He’s not a little baby puppy, he’s more a boy.’

  ‘Like me,’ said Micky, helping Mum delve in the deep freeze. He found some frozen hamburgers and took one out of the packet. He held it up to Wolfie.

  ‘Do you think you’d like this, Wolfie?’

  Wolfie nodded enthusiastically. He leapt up and snatched the frozen hamburger right out of Micky’s hand. He did his best to chomp it up, but his teeth skidded across the icy surface.

  ‘You can’t eat it like that, silly,’ said Micky. ‘You’ve got to wait until it thaws.’

  Wolfie didn’t want to wait. He gnawed and slobbered and licked the hamburger like an ice lolly. Micky knew that ordinary wolves came from the North so maybe Wolfie had a built-in love of frozen food.

  He seemed to have a built-in l