Lost! The Hundred-Mile-An-Hour Dog (6 page)

BOOK: Lost! The Hundred-Mile-An-Hour Dog
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Talk about yelling! Anyone would think I was
a giant cockroach! Several people jumped on to counters and clung to each other in horror. One woman grabbed a ceiling light and she went swinging backwards and forwards until she ran out of grip and let go and she landed on the egg display — KER-SPLOPPETY-SPLAP!

‘Ohhh, a doggy!’

‘Oooh, a kitty!’

‘Get them out at once!’

‘Call the Fire Brigade!’

‘Get Pest Control!’

Pest Control? That was a bit much. Cat was looking more and more worried as the two-legs began to close in around us. I desperately hunted round for Trevor. Then I saw him. He was still with his dad and they were struggling down the moving stairs, pushing against the crowds of shoppers trying to escape from all the fuss and bother below.

‘TREVOR!’ I woofed.

‘STREAKER! I’M COMING!’

Cat was pulling at me. ‘We’ve got to go. Come on, it’s too dangerous. The two-legs are almost on top of us. WE HAVE TO GO NOW BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!’

‘TREVOR!’ I bellowed.

But this time there was no answer and no sign of either of them. Strange hands were beginning to pull at me. It was definitely time to be Dazzy Donut Dog again, and I secretly ate two imaginary super-dooper-power-plus Dazzy Donuts with all those little coloured sprinkles on top.

KER-CHINNGGG!

I struggled free, forced myself to turn away and raced after Cat, who was already legging it. Faster and faster we went, until my ears were streaming out behind me. We skidded between counters. We knocked displays over. We knocked people over. Everywhere we went the shouts and
yells followed close behind. Now it had become a race for freedom.

We dashed up the ‘down’ escalator, and down the ‘up’ escalator. We raced through a bedding store, using the display of beds like trampolines —
boyoinngg! boyoinngg! boyoinngg!
We toppled wardrobes so the two-legs had to clamber over them to get to us.

We hurled ourselves through a big clothing store and Cat came out at the other end wearing a pair of pink knickers over his head. We raced past the electrical area and I got a vacuum cleaner plug caught up in my collar and now I was towing a big red vacuum cleaner along behind me. The vacuum cleaner got caught on a display of handbags and soon I had this huge trail of bits and bobs bouncing and skidding along behind me until at last the plug worked free and I shot off after Mr Frilly Knickers.

I could see the open doors that meant escape. ‘This way!’ I yelled at Cat. We even had to dash
back past the butcher’s on the way and I got that salami sausage! A leap, a snaffle and it was mine!
Whoosh-whizz!
I am so good at this! There is no dog like me anywhere in the universe! I am the world champion. Even better than Dazzy Donut Dog, probably.

We went whooshing back outside and a furious pile of two-legs came tumbling after us like lava spilling from a volcano.

‘Get the thieves!’

We whizzed out into the open air and across the road, still scattering shoppers. There was a wild chorus of poops and parps from cars, several screeching skids and a series of loud bangs as they crashed into one another. Doors were flung open and drivers leaped out but they were instantly mown down by the unstoppable crowd that was chasing us from the centre. What a kerfuffle! Someone started a fight and it quickly spread.

Cat and I crept quietly away and hid beneath
a big wheelie bin. In the distance we heard sirens approaching. We split the salami sausage between us. Cat chomped happily on his while I just sat there, looking out at the disaster area beyond. It was my last chance to spot Trevor. I couldn’t believe that we had found each other and then lost each other again. And it wasn’t just Trevor I’d lost. It was my pups. They seemed further away than ever.

Cat’s head jerked up from his sausage. ‘Are you sniffling?’ he asked.

‘No,’ I growled. ‘Dazzy Donut Dog does not sniffle.’

Cat lowered his head and began chewing again. ‘Lovely salami,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Mind if I eat yours?’

8 How to Read

We stayed under the wheelie bin for the rest of the day. For one thing we were sleeping, and for another it took a long time to clear away the mess. Breakdown trucks towed away the smashed vehicles, one by one. Those two-legs can make VERY BIG MESSES when they want to. If I made a mess that big I would be in such trouble.

It was late afternoon when we moved. It had started to drizzle. The problem was that there were roads leaving the shopping centre in every direction. Which one should we follow? I sniffed around for clues but there was nothing helpful, only messages from other dogs, some cats, a fox and a new, weird scent that neither of us could make sense of.

‘Foreign language,’ Cat said eventually. ‘Polish probably.’

Cat and I spotted a road sign, with its funny picture and writing. Cat frowned and nodded wisely.

‘Do you know what it says?’ I asked Cat in astonishment. ‘Can you read?’

‘Of course,’ Cat said nodding. ‘All cats can read.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course. Cats can do anything.’

This was good news. I’d always thought cats were idiots. I looked at him with admiration. ‘What does it say?’

‘Seven o’clock,’ Cat announced.

‘Oh.’ I was disappointed. I had hoped it would tell us where we were and where we should go. ‘It doesn’t say where Barton is? That’s where Trevor lives.’

Cat shook his head. ‘Nope. Just says seven o’clock. Come on, I reckon we should go right.’

I was puzzled. ‘Why would a road sign say seven o’clock?’ I asked Cat. He looked at me and rolled his eyes.

‘How should I know? It’s a sign for two-legs. You know how weird they are. Maybe they need
to know when it’s seven o’clock. Look, it’s raining. We’re getting wet. Are you coming or not?’

I trotted after him. Sometimes Cat made me feel small and stupid. I didn’t like that. I’m not small and stupid. I’m middle-sized and parts of me are clever. I’d like to see Cat snatch a salami from the middle of a shopping centre.

However, it was good to have a friend to travel with and it was brilliant that he could read. That was going to prove a big help. We edged along the roundabout and took the road on the right.

We kept going until it was dark, by which time the rain was really coming down and we were both soaked. Cat likes the night more than I do. It’s good for pouncing, he says. The darker it is, the better. Personally speaking, I prefer the moon, and the brighter it is, the better. So we argued and almost had a fight. I went
raargh-raargh
and showed Cat my teeth and he went
hiss-hiss
and flicked open the claws on one paw. We stood and glared at each other for a few moments and then decided to call it
a draw. It was a stupid argument anyway. We only did it because we were fed up, cold and wet.

Not long after that we found a big old shed and decided to hole up there for the night. It was lovely to find somewhere dry. Cat caught two mice in the pitch dark. I couldn’t even
see
them, but he could. He offered one to me but I wasn’t interested so he ate one and said he’d have the other for pudding later. First of all he chucked them about the place a lot and chased after them.

‘Why do you do that?’ I asked. ‘Why don’t you just catch them and eat them?’

‘Aerobics,’ he said. ‘Keeps me fit.’

I waited until the chewing had stopped. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ I began. ‘You could teach me to read.’

Cat coughed, choked and swallowed hard. ‘Why would you want to do that? One of us can read already. There’s no point in you learning as well.’

‘It would be nice to be able to read.’ I wasn’t going to let him put me off. There was an old bit of newspaper lying on the floor. I pushed it across to him and pointed to a word in big letters.

BOX

‘What does that say?’ I asked. ‘How does it work? It looks so mysterious.’

Cat grumbled to himself and studied the word carefully. After a few moments he sat up neatly and poked the paper with one paw.

‘It’s quite simple,’ he purred. ‘Each of these
marks is a little picture and when you put each little picture together it tells a story.’

‘Really? That’s wonderful!’

‘Hmmm. The round one is an easy one. What do you think it looks like?’

‘The moon.’

‘Don’t be daft. It’s too small to be the moon. It’s got to be something smaller.’

‘Your head?’

‘Do you want to learn how to read, or not?’

‘Tell me what it is then.’

‘It’s an orange. So that mark means orange.’

‘That’s so clever! What do the other marks mean?’

Cat pointed at the last one. ‘That’s easy too.’

‘It’s a cross,’ I said.

‘Exactly. So that’s what it means. Cross.’

‘I’m beginning to get it!’ I woofed excitedly. ‘But I don’t understand the first one. That looks difficult.’

‘It’s a bit hard,’ agreed Cat. ‘But if you’re intelligent it’s actually quite easy.’

I sat up and tried to be intelligent but it sounded like nonsense to me. How could it be hard and easy at the same time? I told Cat he’d have to explain.

BOOK: Lost! The Hundred-Mile-An-Hour Dog
10.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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