One Dog and His Boy

5 First Day

Hal woke feeling … unusual. He was warm – but that wasn’t so odd. What was odd was that he felt happy. Comfortable. Safe. Not as though he had had bad dreams – not as though he had had dreams at all.

On the other hand his bed was hard. It was surprisingly hard. Then he realized it wasn’t a bed at all. He was lying on the floor with his duvet over him, and then he remembered. He had promised not to let Fleck sleep on his bed, and he had kept his promise. But he wasn’t going to leave his dog alone on his first day in his new home.

And at this moment a cold nose was thrust into his hand – and Fleck exploded into the glory of a new day. Like his owner, Fleck woke to safety and happiness and warmth. He leapt on to Hal’s chest, he licked his ear, he jumped off and rolled over so that Hal could rub his stomach.

But Hal was remembering his mother’s words the night before.

“If he makes a puddle on the carpet he’s going into the garage and staying there.”

There was no time to lose in getting Fleck out of doors.

Getting dressed was not easy because Fleck had good ideas of how to “help” – putting Hal’s socks in interesting places and herding his shoes … but when Hal was ready he allowed him to slip on his collar and lead and followed him down the stairs like a model dog walking to heel.

Hal let himself out of the front door and down the drive. The garden, which wasn’t really a garden but a lot of raked gravel, stretched away to either side but they reached the road before Fleck lifted his leg. Opposite the house was a private garden belonging to the people in the street but there was a notice on the gate saying No Dogs or Unaccompanied Children.

But past the end of the road, where the houses were smaller and not so elegant, there was a park, open to everybody. His mother didn’t like taking him there; the children who played in it could be rough – but Fleck thought it looked good. He steamed ahead, looking back at Hal every so often, and then they were through the gates.

It was a very ordinary city park but Fleck behaved as though he was in paradise. He put his head down and sniffed the whole history of the dogs that had been there recently. He tried eating a tuft of grass and sneezed. He found a fascinating pile of raked leaves. And all the time his ears twitched with eagerness, and his face turned back to Hal, making sure that Hal too could smell the smells and feel the earth on his paws, and share.

Hal let the dog lead him – and because of that found himself face to face with a girl of about his own age with masses of fair hair and bright blue eyes. She was sitting on a bench reading and was the sort of pretty, self-assured girl that usually frightened Hal, but Fleck liked her immediately.

“He’s got a lot of breeds in him, I’d say?” she said, stroking his back, but Hal shook his head.

“He’s a Tottenham terrier,” he said.

“I’ve never heard of that,” she said. “It must be a new breed. He looks really intelligent. Why don’t you let him off the lead?”

“I’ve only just got him. I’m going to take him to dog training classes next week but I don’t know if he’d come back.”

“Of course he’d come back. He loves you.”

Hal looked at her. Her words made him feel ridiculously happy. He bent down and unclipped the lead. Fleck shook himself, then took off like a racing greyhound – and disappeared behind a clump of trees.

There was a moment of panic as Hal and the blonde girl looked at each other. Supposing he disappeared for ever? Then with as much speed as he had raced off, the little dog returned, a streak of white on his way home.

“Told you,” said the girl.

But Fleck was now ready to play. He led Hal to a large tree, and raced round it, chasing whatever was in his head – imaginary squirrels, rabbits, rats even. Hal followed him going the other way and they met in the middle. The girl with the blonde curls came too and a long game of chase followed. It was an oak tree; last year’s acorns lay on the ground. Fleck tried one, didn’t care for it, spat it out.

Behind the tree was a large hole – obviously the other dogs who had helped to make it were the right kind, because Fleck was delighted with it. He dug his share, with yelps of pleasure. The earth was rich and dark and damp – it must have rained in the night.

Two boys who had been kicking a football came over. Remembering the boys who had destroyed his birthday toys, Hal was apprehensive, but they were friendly – and let Fleck chase their ball a few times before they wandered off.

“I’d best take him back now,” Hal told the blonde girl. “I haven’t had breakfast yet and my parents will be wondering where I am.”

She nodded. “See you tomorrow maybe,” she said. “I’ll walk with you to the gate.”

But the path they took led past a pond – and on the pond were half a dozen ducks.

Fleck stood for a moment taking stock. The hair on his back rose, growls worthy of a Steppenwolf came from him, and before Hal realized what was happening, there was a mighty splash and Fleck was swimming strongly towards the ducks.

The birds squawked indignantly, then took off with a flutter of dripping wings. Fleck swam to and fro for a few minutes, pretending he had only gone in for the exercise; then, as Hal called him, he scrambled out through the reeds.

“Run!” said the girl. “Don’t let him get near you.” And she took off along the path. But Hal had only been a dog owner for a day. He waited, and Fleck came as close to him as possible and then, most mightily, he shook himself.

“That’s a plucky little brute you’ve got there,” said an old man leading a Great Dane. “They’re good swimmers, these cross-breeds.”

Hal was about to explain that he was a Tottenham terrier – but he was almost as wet as the dog and he put Fleck on the lead and set off for home.

As they came up the drive to his house, Hal began to worry. He had promised his mother that he wouldn’t let the dog make puddles, but Fleck was practically a walking puddle all by himself. He decided to go in through the back. Olga, the new maid, was surly; she came from Kazakhstan and hardly spoke a word of English and Hal was afraid of her sulks and her tears. But when she saw him with the soaking little dog she pulled him into the kitchen, and found a towel and rubbed Fleck till he looked freshly washed rather than bedraggled. Then she found some dry clothes for Hal and pushed him forward into the dining room.

“Mother eats already – go quick …” she said.

But she was smiling.

“If I didn’t know it was going to be over the day after tomorrow, I couldn’t stand it,” said Albina. “I found a white hair on the carpet – and another on the footstool. And I nearly fell over the creature’s drinking bowl. I do so hate mess!”

Albina’s friends – the ones with names beginning with G – were having morning coffee with her and they were very sympathetic.

“I had a friend whose husband brought home an Irish wolfhound,” said Glenda. “Imagine it – one swish of his tail and a whole table full of precious ornaments were swept to the floor. And all the husband could say was, ‘The dog is saying hello.’ She divorced him, of course – nothing else to do.”

Hal came in then, carrying Fleck for safety, to greet Aunt Georgia and Aunt Glenda and Aunt Geraldine.

“I thought you’d like to see him,” he said.

Fleck wanted to get down and say hello properly, with sniffing and rolling over and all that kind of thing, but Hal held him firmly. Aunt Glenda was wearing very full purple harem trousers and pumps with a big tassel on the toe and he had already discovered how fond Fleck was of anything attached to shoes.

“He’s not completely trained yet, though he does sit for quite a long time when you tell him to,” he told the ladies.

He carried the dog round to each of them as though he was offering them a wonderful present. Geraldine patted him gingerly, Glenda just smiled nervously, and Georgia said, “Does he bite?”

“Well, I hope Donald knows what he’s doing,” said Glenda, when Hal had carried the dog out again. “It doesn’t look as though he’s tired of him yet.”

“Donald is sure he will be by tomorrow evening. Hal had to get up early to exercise him – it’s a lot of work looking after the things. And frankly, whether there’s a fuss or not, I really couldn’t go on with this. Suppose he scratches the new coffee table?”

And all of them shuddered at a thought as dreadful as that.

That night, lying on the floor again covered by his duvet, with Fleck curled up beside him, Hal was thinking. Often and often when you wanted something and then got it, it was a disappointment. He had looked forward to going to the Seychelles for a holiday – his parents had said there would be snorkelling and scuba diving … but when he got there he developed a horrible rash from some tropical bug and couldn’t go into the water at all. And it was the same with skiing – they’d all gone to Davos and then there wasn’t any snow and the hotel was full of people having parties and drinking too much and being sick and they’d come home early.

But having a dog was completely different. He’d wanted it and wanted it and when it happened it was even better than he’d thought it would be. He’d imagined some of it – the companionship and the warmth – but he didn’t realize a dog would make you laugh so much, nor that he would help you to make so many friends.

It was extraordinary too how much a dog made you see. The hollows in the oak tree … and the way the acorns sat so neatly in their cups … how the earth clagged together, so dark after rain… Hal hadn’t even noticed that it had rained.

And how much he made you think. Fleck had found an iron grating over a drain when they went out in the afternoon. The drain had interested him so much that he’d lain down on his stomach, just looking and smelling and investigating, and Hal realized that he’d never before thought about what might live down there, in the black and evil-looking water. Perhaps ancient river spirits, driven from their homes … or strange animals washed down through bath outlets … there might be a whole drain underworld that no one knew about.

He reached up to turn on his night light, but Fleck was lying across his feet and Hal didn’t want to disturb him. Anyway, he didn’t need a night light now he had a protector and a friend.

Early the next morning, which was Sunday, Hal wrote a postcard to his grandparents in Northumberland. He had never had anything interesting to tell them but now he did. He knew how pleased they would be for him, how glad that he had a dog. There was a dog, of course, in their cottage by the sea. Then he addressed the card and took it to the letter box, with Fleck following at his heels.

They went on to the park and though they did not meet the girl with blonde hair, they met the man with the Great Dane and the big dog stood patiently while Fleck went round and round him, admiringly sniffing at each leg. Then they ran to the tree and found the hole and the pile of leaves and it was as though the park was already home.

Sunday was Olga’s day off but today she stopped Hal as he came in and showed him a bone which he could have for Fleck. It was the right kind of bone, not splintery, and Fleck thanked her very beautifully. She had stopped being silent and surly, and Hal realized that she had just been lonely and sad, another thing the dog had made him understand. Apparently she had had a lot of animals at home in Kazakhstan and whenever she couldn’t think of the name for whatever the animal was in English, she made the right noise – mooing and bleating and barking and hissing, till both she and Hal were doubled up with laughter.

“What on earth is going on here?” said Albina, coming in just as Olga was pretending to be a goat trying to swallow a bicycle tyre. Then she caught sight of Fleck, chewing his bone. “Oh, Hal, he’ll make a mess on the floor. Don’t bring him into the drawing room whatever you do.”

In the afternoon Hal’s parents had been invited to have tea with Sir Richard and Lady Dorothy Graham, who lived in a beautiful house in Richmond near the river, and had three children roughly Hal’s age. They were perfectly behaved children, the kind that made Hal want to be sick.

“Only there’s no question of taking the dog,” said Albina. “Lady Dorothy’s house is absolutely spotless – and anyway he’d make marks on the leather of the car.”

Albina’s Mercedes was upholstered in snow-white Moroccan leather and was the apple of Albina’s eye.

“I’m not going without Fleck. Absolutely not,” said Hal.

“Well, you can’t stay here alone,” said Albina.

But to everyone’s surprise, Olga, who always had Sunday afternoon off, said she would take Hal to the shopping mall so that he could buy a ball and some toys for Fleck.

So Hal stayed, and had a lovely afternoon. He had not spent any of the birthday money from his Australian godmother and he and Fleck studied squeaky rubber ducks and balls of various sizes and plastic bones and clockwork mice. There were other people there choosing Sunday treats for their pets, and the girl with fair hair Hal had met in the park was buying hamster food.

“We have tea!” said Olga, to Hal’s surprise, taking the girl by the arm. “You go ask mother – I have much cake.”

So the girl, whose name was Hilary, came to tea and they played with Fleck and threw the squeaky toys for him and he rushed all over the house retrieving them. But when Hilary had gone, and he settled down for a nap in Hal’s room, Fleck was not lying on the rubber duck which had been his favourite, but on Hal’s blue face flannel which had slipped from the side of the washbasin on to the floor. And later, when Hal tried to take it from him, he produced his first attempt at a growl and fastened his teeth more firmly round his treasure.

This flannel, Fleck was saying, is now mine.