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Max the Missing Puppy Page 3
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“What is it?” her dad asked, dashing up.
“It’s a dog, a puppy, I mean. He’s hurt! Oh, Dad, look at his leg…” Jasmine’s voice faltered. Max’s leg was badly cut and had bled a lot all over his beautiful white fur. “What are we going to do?”
“He must have been hit by a car,” said Dad. “Poor little thing.” He turned to Jasmine’s mum, who’d come running after them. “Did you see a vet’s in Stambridge as we drove through?”
Jasmine’s mum shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I should think there would be. Is the little dog hurt?” she asked worriedly.
“Hit by a car, I think. We can’t leave him here.” He looked down at Max. “I wonder when it happened. He looks pretty weak.”
Jasmine’s mum nodded. “Look, you and Jasmine stay here, I’ll go back and get the car, and some towels or something to wrap him in. Then we can drive him into Stambridge and ask someone about a vet.”
“Please be quick, Mum!” Jasmine gulped. The puppy looked so weak and ill lying in the grass. “Do you think it would be OK to pick him up?” she asked her dad. “He looks so sad.”
Dad shook his head. “I don’t think we should move him more than we have to. His leg might be broken, or he might have other injuries we don’t know about. And if he’s really hurting, he might snap at you, Jasmine.”
Jasmine shook her head. “I’m sure he wouldn’t. He looks such a nice little dog.”
Max whined again, and stretched his neck to get closer to Jasmine. She wasn’t his Molly, but he could tell she was kind and friendly.
Very gently, trying not to frighten him, Jasmine put her hand out for Max to sniff.
Max licked her hand a little, then exhausted by even such a tiny effort, he slumped back.
“Oh, no. I wish Mum would hurry with the car.” Jasmine looked round anxiously, then spotted their car coming along the road.
“How’s he doing?” her mum asked as she jumped out, grabbing a pile of towels.
Jasmine’s eyes were full of tears as she answered. “He’s getting weaker. We have to hurry.”
The vet’s receptionist looked up as they barged through the door. “Oh, I’m sorry, we’re actually just about to close—” Then she caught sight of the puppy huddled in a towel in Jasmine’s arms, and the blood seeping through the pale pink fabric. “Bring him through! This way. Mike, we’ve got an emergency,” she called as she held open a door for Jasmine and her parents.
A tall, youngish man in a white jacket was looking at a computer screen inside the room, which was very clean and shiny, and smelled of disinfectant. He swung round quickly, his eyes going straight to the towel-wrapped bundle.
Jasmine just held Max out to him, not saying anything. She didn’t know what to say, and the relief of finally getting to the vet’s, where someone might be able to help the poor little dog, was making her feel choked with tears.
The vet took Max and laid him carefully on the table. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving. Jasmine knew he was still alive, because she’d been watching him breathing, but even that seemed to have got weaker in the last few minutes.
The vet started gently checking Max over. “What happened?” he asked, without looking up.
“We don’t know,” Jasmine whispered. “We found him.”
“We’re here on holiday,” her dad explained. “We were out for a walk, and Jasmine heard him crying in the hedge. We guessed he’d been hit by a car.”
The vet nodded. “He’s very lucky. If he’d been out there much longer I don’t think he’d have made it. As it is,” he looked up at Jasmine, “I can’t promise that he will, but he’s got a fighting chance. His leg isn’t broken, just badly cut, but he’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s very weak. I’m going to sedate him and put him on a drip, then stitch up the cut. If he turns the corner in the next couple of hours, he should be OK. But he’s really young, and that amount of blood loss in such a small dog…” He tailed off, but they all knew what he meant.
Jasmine gulped. “Can we wait while you do it? That would be OK, wouldn’t it?” she asked her parents.
The vet smiled sympathetically at her. “Of course. You can stay in the waiting room.” He was already gently gathering Max up, to take him to the operating theatre. The puppy looked so small and helpless, and Jasmine just couldn’t hold back the tears that were starting to trickle down the side of her nose.
Her mum hugged her gently, and led her out to the waiting room – and that was all they could do, just wait.
When the vet came back out into the reception area he was looking cautiously pleased. Jasmine had been sitting leaning against her mum’s shoulder, feeling worn out from her excitement and panic at finding the hurt puppy. But she jumped up immediately. “Is he going to be OK?”
The vet nodded slowly. “I think so. He’s certainly got a good chance. The cut on his leg should heal well now it’s stitched, and apart from that he’s just badly bruised. Definitely no fractures. He really was lucky. He’s just sleeping off the anaesthetic now.” He smiled down at Jasmine. “Would you like to come and see him?”
“Oh, please!” Jasmine nodded, and they followed him through to a room at the back of the surgery that was lined with cages. Most were empty – Jasmine guessed they didn’t do that many operations at the weekend – but at one end, by the window, a small black and white shape was snuggled into a blue blanket. Jasmine peered in. The little puppy was fast asleep, but he seemed to be breathing more easily, and the horrible wound on his leg was clean and neatly stitched.
“He should be fine when he wakes up,” the vet said hopefully. “He’ll be dozy for the rest of the day, though. He’ll have to take some painkillers in his food for a few days, and in a week or so he’ll need the stitches out, but that’s all. We’re not open tomorrow, but I’ll be here anyway at about nine if you want to pop down and see how he is.”
Jasmine nodded eagerly, and then realized that her mum and dad might not want to. She gave them a pleading sort of look.
Her dad smiled. “It’s OK, Jasmine. I’d like to know how he’s doing too. Now that we’ve rescued him, it feels almost like he’s ours.”
Jasmine smiled wistfully. If only! She would so love to have a dog. But she could never be lucky enough to own a gorgeous puppy like this.
Chapter Five
Half-term was meant to be fun, Molly thought miserably. You weren’t supposed to spend all day holed up in your bedroom, because you were too sad even to phone up and ask a friend round. Molly just didn’t think she could face any of her mates at the moment. Max had been missing since Friday, and now it was Monday. Molly wasn’t giving up, of course she wasn’t, but her frantic searching was starting to seem hopeless. Listlessly, she heaved herself off her bed, and went downstairs to find her mum.
Molly was pretty certain that her mum had given up hope of ever finding Max. She kept gently trying to point out to Molly that there had been no sign of him for three days, and no one had even mentioned seeing a puppy. But she was clearly still feeling guilty about letting him get out that she agreed to go searching whenever Molly asked. They’d spent at least a couple of hours out looking every day so far, walking round the village, asking people if they’d seen a little black and white puppy.
When Molly opened her mum’s office door, her mum beckoned her over to the computer. “Look, I’ve been working on something for you,” she said in a pleased voice.
Molly gulped. Max’s face was staring at her from the screen, the word LOST shouting out at her. It was one of her favourite photos of him – you could just tell he was wagging his tail like mad, even though it was only his head showing. His tongue was hanging out a bit, and his eyes gazed brightly into hers.
Her mum scrolled down to show her their phone number and a note saying when Max had disappeared, and asking people to check their garages and sheds in case he’d got shut in. “I thought we could print them out and put them up round the village. I know we’ve asked most people already, but maybe
the photo will jog people’s memories?”
Molly nodded, still feeling too choked to speak. It was so awful to think that she might only ever see Max again in photos like this one. She mustn’t think like that. But it was getting very hard not to…
“He looks great!” Jasmine gazed delightedly at the puppy frisking around with an old chew-toy on Monday morning. He was miles different from the weak, pitiful little creature he’d been two days before. “His leg seems so much better.”
The scary-looking cut was now just a neat line of stitches in a shaved patch of pinkish skin. Even the redness round the stitches seemed to be fading away.
“He does look good, doesn’t he? Puppies tend to heal pretty quickly,” the vet agreed, smiling down at him. “He’s a great character, really cheeky. And he’s a pedigree Old English sheepdog puppy, too, I think. Probably quite valuable.”
Jasmine’s mum was looking thoughtful. “If he’s a pedigree puppy,” she said, “he’s not likely to have been abandoned, is he? He must have got lost. His owners must be really upset.”
Mike nodded. “Yes, to be honest, I’m surprised we haven’t heard anything. Stambridge isn’t that big a place. I would have thought that if anyone had lost a special little dog like this, they’d have let the police know, and it would have been passed on to us too. He’s too young to have been chipped, unfortunately.” Seeing Jasmine’s blank look, he explained, “Microchipped. A lot of dog owners have a tiny ID chip injected into their dog’s neck, just in case something like this happens. It’s a really good idea.”
“So you haven’t heard anything?” Jasmine said slowly, petting the little dog’s ears. She supposed she ought to hope that his owners would find him, and he’d soon be back at home and safe, but she just couldn’t. She’d been visiting the vet’s every day to see how he was – she was more interested in the puppy than in her holiday!
“No, no one’s been in touch. There are a couple of other vets in the area, and I’ve called them, and we’re going to put his photo up on our website. I think we’re going to have to give him a name – I can’t keep on just calling him ‘puppy’!”
Jasmine smiled. “I think you should call him Lucky,” she said, glad to be distracted from thinking about the puppy’s real owners. “You said when we brought him in that he was lucky that the car only just caught him, and that we found him just in time.”
The vet nodded. “Mmm, that’s a good idea.”
The puppy looked up hopefully. He could tell they were talking about him. He liked this nice girl. She’d picked him up and carried him when he was hurt, and she kept coming to see him and play with him.
“Would you like to be called Lucky?” she said, kneeling down next to him. “Lucky? Is that a good name?”
The puppy managed a little jump up to lick her face, and barked gently, to show her he was grateful for all her petting.
“There, he likes it!” Jasmine said delightedly.
And so Max became Lucky…
Jasmine was quiet in the car that afternoon. They were on their way to visit some caves with underground waterfalls that her dad had found a leaflet on, but she couldn’t seem to feel excited about it.
“Are you all right, Jasmine?” her mum asked. “The caves should be fun, you know. Lots of interesting stuff to see.”
“I know,” Jasmine said, forcing a smile.
It didn’t work. “You’re upset about the puppy, aren’t you?” her mum said gently. “But Jasmine, you must have known the vet would try to find his owners. They’ll be desperate to find him, and I’m sure he misses them too.”
“I suppose,” Jasmine muttered. Actually, she couldn’t help feeling that whoever had lost Lucky didn’t deserve to have him, letting him run off and get hurt.
“It might even be another girl like you, Jasmine,” her dad put in. “Imagine if Lucky was yours, and you’d lost him, think how upset you’d be.”
“I wouldn’t have lost him!” Jasmine burst out. “Sorry,” she sniffed through her tears. “I know we can’t have him, but he’s so sweet, and I’ve always wanted a dog, and just finding him like that, it seemed so perfect…”
“And you’d been dreaming of keeping him,” her mum sighed. “Oh, Jasmine, I know. He is gorgeous. But he really does belong to someone else. And besides, a dog…it would be such a lot of work…” But she looked thoughtfully at Jasmine’s dad as she said it.
Jasmine blew her nose firmly. “Sorry. I’m all right now. Can we go to the caves? Will there be diamonds, or anything?” she said, trying hard to sound enthusiastic. It didn’t really work, but Jasmine’s dad gave her mum another thoughtful look.
“Molly! Hey, Molly, wait!”
Molly and her mum turned round to see Amy dashing towards her, followed by her big sister Sarah. “Are you going out looking for Max again? We saw you go past and Mum says me and Sarah can come and help if you like.”
“If that’s OK,” Sarah added to Molly’s mum.
Molly managed a small smile. It was really sweet of Amy to want to help. “We’re putting up these posters,” she explained, holding one out.
Amy looked at the photo. “Oh, he looks so gorgeous,” she said sadly. “Posters are a really good idea. Are you going to put them up in the supermarket? My gran did that when her cat went missing, and someone phoned her the next day to say they’d seen him.”
“I hadn’t thought of putting them in shops, Amy,” Molly’s mum said. “That’s very helpful. I should think most of the shops in the high street would let us.”
Molly nodded hopefully. “Yes, then anyone coming in from the holiday cottages along the cliffs to do their shopping would see them.”
They shared out rolls of sticky tape and walked quickly along the street, taping the posters on to lamp posts and pinning them to fences. Molly kept having to stare into Max’s beautiful big eyes as she stuck his picture up all over the village. It was so hard.
Amy put an arm round Molly’s shoulders. “Hey,” she murmured. “You never know. In a couple of days we’ll probably be coming round and taking them all down because we’ve found him.” She smiled at Molly, who wished she could feel so positive.
It was probably just natural puppy healing power that made Lucky’s leg get better so quickly, but Jasmine liked to think that his new name had something to do with it. That and all the cuddles, games of hide-the-squeaky-bone, and snoozing on her lap that he’d been having. How could he not get well when everyone loved him so much?
“He really is doing brilliantly,” Mike said, shaking his head in amazement as he watched Lucky skidding across the floor after a new toy that Jasmine had brought with her on Wednesday morning, a fluffy knotted rope that had cost a considerable amount of her holiday spending money. “He’ll be ready to go soon,” Mike added thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t have kept him for so long, except that I was hoping his owner might turn up to claim him. No one’s called about the photo on our website though.”
Jasmine gulped. “Go?” She faltered. “Um, go where?” Without really thinking about it, she snuggled Lucky close into her arms, and he licked her nose happily.
“To the animal shelter. It doesn’t look like we’re going to have any luck finding his real owner, so poor old Lucky’s going to have to find someone new. I’d love to keep him here, but we’re so busy. He needs more space and proper looking after, now he’s strong enough to move around again.”
A shelter! It sounded awful. Jasmine knew that animal shelters did a fantastic job looking after strays and unwanted pets, but she still couldn’t help thinking of them as grim, scary places. She didn’t want Lucky to have to go to one of those!
“Anyway, it’s been fantastic having you here to help look after him,” Mike said gratefully. “I don’t know what we’d have done without you.” He grinned. “I tell you what. It’s your last day on Friday, isn’t it?”
Jasmine nodded sadly. She didn’t want to think about it. She was going to miss seeing Lucky so much!
“Well, to say
thank you, how would you like to take Lucky out for his first walk? I reckon his leg will be strong enough by then. You can let him have a walk on the beach. I gave him his puppy booster jabs when you first brought him in, so he’d have less chance of picking up anything nasty from any other dogs here. He’ll be fine to take out now. We can lend you a lead for him.”
“Oh, I’d love to!” Jasmine hugged Lucky tightly, and looked round at her mum, her eyes shining with excitement. She imagined them wandering along the beach together, Lucky nosing into all the good-smelling holes between the rocks, as she held on to his lead.
It would be just like having her own dog…
Chapter Six
“Look, Lucky! The sea!” Jasmine crouched down beside the puppy, and pointed out over what seemed like miles of perfect sand to the water glinting blue in the sun. “I guess you’ve probably seen it before,” she said doubtfully. “Anyway, Mum says that because the tide is right out, we can walk along the shore to the next village. And there’s a café there that does brilliant milkshakes. Don’t worry,” she added, stroking his ears, “I’ll carry you if you get tired.”
Lucky wasn’t really listening. He was taking deep, excited sniffs of the salty sea air. It had an unmistakeable tang. And the last time he’d smelled it had been the day he lost Molly. Maybe he was close to her again! Wagging his tail briskly, he set off down the cliff path, with Jasmine trotting behind him, and her parents sauntering gently after them.
It was a gorgeous day for a walk, blue sky reflected in blue sea, and the low tide leaving the sand firm and golden and biscuity, and dotted with exciting things for a small dog to investigate.