Kitabı oxu: «Rascal: Running For His Life»

For Judy and Art

CONTENTS

Cover

Front series promotional page

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

Back series promotional page

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 1

It wasn’t the noise of passing traffic that woke Rascal. It wasn’t the brightness of the morning sun either, as it peeked out from behind the clouds, or the breeze that rustled the leaves of the bushes around him.

No, it was better than that. It was the smell of sausages. That and the wonderful sizzle they made as they cooked. To Rascal’s ears it was one of the best sounds in the world. It seemed to whisper, ‘Come and eat us, come and eat us! What are you waiting for?’

When a dog is as hungry as Rascal was, he doesn’t need a second invitation.

The sun was already quite high. Rascal had slept long after sunrise. He had arrived in this town late the night before. He was weak and exhausted and there was a little blood between the pads of one of his front paws. He had just wanted to slump in the nearest doorway and sleep, but he knew that he couldn’t do that. He’d tried that once before, a few towns back, and an angry shopkeeper had shooed him away first thing in the morning. It wasn’t the greatest way to wake up. Rascal knew now that he had to find a better hiding place before he could allow the blackness of sleep to fold itself around him.

So, when all he’d wanted to do was curl up and close his eyes, the dog had forced himself to pad around this strange new town in search of a safe place. There was a small park near the square. Rascal had found a clump of bushes there and dug his way inside them. It wasn’t very comfortable and it wasn’t very warm, but that didn’t stop Rascal from falling into a long dreamless sleep almost immediately.

The next thing he knew, it was morning and . . . that wonderful smell of sausages!

He wriggled forwards and peeked through the leafy branches. Like most dogs, Rascal’s nose was a perfectly tuned food detector and it didn’t take him long to spot where the smell was coming from – a hot dog stand just round the corner from the park.

Rascal was out of the bushes now. He gave his front paw a lick – it was still a little tender, but it wasn’t hurting too badly this morning. Then he stretched his back legs out. He cocked his leg against a tree, and then turned his attention back to the hot dogs. His stomach was demanding immediate action!

The man at the stand was humming as he sliced bread rolls in half while a row of hot dog sausages cooked next to him.

Since he had been on his own, Rascal had learned that some people were happy to give a stray dog like him a bite to eat. For some reason, others got angry and started shouting at him. You could never know for sure which kind of person it would turn out to be.

Rascal approached the hot dog stand slowly and let out a hungry whimper. He didn’t sit up and beg – his master, Joel, had no time for silly dog tricks like that – but the meaning was clear enough.

The man at the hot dog stand wasn’t impressed. He flicked the dog nothing more than a bored glance.

‘Scram,’ he muttered.

So this man fell into the second group of people – the ones who wouldn’t help Rascal on his long journey home.

Once, Rascal would have simply turned and left, but things were different now. He was starving and here was this glorious sizzle and smell!

Rascal began trotting casually along the pavement past the stand. He kept his eyes forwards and wagged his tail eagerly, as if he was concentrating on what lay directly ahead. He didn’t even glance at the hot dog stand. The man didn’t pay much attention to the dog now, either.

Rascal had almost passed the stand when suddenly he whirled around and jumped up on to his hind legs. His front legs landed against the edge of the counter.

‘Hey!’ yelled the man angrily, but Rascal’s head was already craning forwards. The sausages were hot, but it was OK if he held them between his teeth and made sure that they didn’t touch his tongue.

He managed to get two of them. He would have liked more, but there wasn’t time. As soon as his front paws hit the ground again, he took off.

‘You thieving dog!’ shouted the man furiously.

Just the taste and smell of the food was enough to drive a hungry dog crazy. Rascal fought the temptation to wolf them down there and then. He raced into the park area.

Now that he was running, his front paw had begun to throb a little, but the thought of a hot breakfast acted as powerful medicine.

A boy on a park bench laughed as the dog streaked by him with two sausages hanging out of its mouth. Normally Rascal would have stopped to say hello to a friendly face, but now wasn’t the time for socialising.

Finally, Rascal slumped to the ground, around the other side of a small building in the park and out of sight of the hot dog stand.

The first of the sausages was gone in two snaps of his jaws. His tummy gurgled gratefully. He took his time with the second one. It was hard to say when he would get the chance to eat again. Better make sure he really enjoyed it.

The food was delicious, but there was a part of the dog that wasn’t happy about getting breakfast this way. Back when he was with his family, he had always known that he wasn’t allowed to take food from the table. Oh sure, Joel might take a bite or two of food from his plate and feed it to Rascal under the table. That was different. But Rascal had learned as a puppy that, if he jumped up on to the table, someone – probably Joel’s mum or dad – would frown and say, ‘No! Get down!’ The worst thing they would ever say – when the young Rascal had sampled the Christmas turkey the family was about to tuck into, for instance – was, ‘Bad dog!’

Now there was no human around to say it to him, but the words still formed in the back of his mind: ‘Bad dog!’ Rascal put his head miserably on the grass.

Maybe he was a bad dog? It was a horrible thought, but why else would he be here, alone and so far from home? So far from Joel? A whimper escaped from the dog’s throat as he thought once again about his master. What was Joel doing now? Was he thinking of Rascal?

Usually, Rascal was an observant dog, but all these thoughts of home stopped him noticing what was going on around him that morning. He didn’t see the white van that pulled up alongside the park, or the man and woman that got out of it.