A Home for Molly

Chapter Eight

“I’m really sorry!” Rachel gasped. “I didn’t mean to let go – she pulled so hard!”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Anya panted back. “She was really scared of that Labrador. I don’t know why. She didn’t mind any of the other dogs.”

“We’re really close to our house,” Zach said. “She did go down here, didn’t she? I reckon she’s got to be on the green somewhere.”

Anya nodded. There was a cold feeling in her stomach and she was trying hard not to cry. Just when Dad had started to think about keeping Molly! She’d heard him talking to Mum about it the night before – about how good Molly was and how responsible Anya was being, trying to look after the puppy and find her owners. They wouldn’t think Anya was responsible now that Molly had got lost again!

“We’ll find her,” Zach said. “Don’t worry. Come on.”

They raced across the little green, looking round and calling.

“At least she’s got her lead on,” Anya said, her voice wobbling. “If anyone spots her, they’ll know she’s slipped away. They might even be able to grab the lead.”

“Shall I get Mum and Dad and Lily to come and look, too?” Zach suggested.

“No, I’m sure she went running over the green,” Rachel said. “If we stop and get Mum and Dad she might go somewhere else. We need to find her now!”

Anya nodded. Rachel was right. “Molly!” she called, her voice squeaky with fright. “Molly, come on! Come on, sweetheart!” Then she gave a little gasp. “Oh! The dog treats – I brought a packet with me, to be her part of the picnic. I got them at the vet’s for her.” She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out the foil packet. Then she shook it gently, so that the treats rattled around inside. “Here, Molly! Yummy treats, come on!”

She shook them again, but Molly didn’t come. “I was sure she’d want them…” Anya whispered. “I don’t think she’s here. She must have run down to the next road.”

“No! Look, I can see her!” Rachel grabbed Anya’s arm. “Isn’t that her, over in that garden? I’m sure I saw something move just then when you shook the treats.”

Anya looked over and saw a pale shape curled up under a fuschia bush. “It is her!” she whispered. “Oh, you star, Rachel. Don’t run!” she added to Zach, who looked as though he was about to dash into the garden. “She’s really scared. She might race off again.”

“OK.” Zach nodded. “You creep up and call her.”

“Molly…” Anya called gently. “Molly, come here, sweetheart.” She gave the bag of treats another shake.

Molly looked up, a little golden face surrounded by the pink and purple flowers. She looked gorgeous – except that she was trembling.

“It’s all right,” Anya called, standing by the wall. “Come on.” She patted her knees gently and Molly crept a touch closer. But she didn’t get up and run to Anya.

Anya glanced at the house and hoped the owners wouldn’t mind if she went into their garden. She walked on to the path and bent down. “Come on, Moll…”

This time, Molly wriggled out from under the bush. She crept over to Anya, her head down, still shaking.

“Poor Molly,” Anya murmured, as she gripped the lead tightly and rubbed Molly’s trembling ears. “That big dog really scared you, didn’t he?”

Suddenly, Molly jerked on her lead again and Anya glanced round. The front door was opening – and a familiar-looking elderly lady glared out at her.

“Oh no,” Anya breathed. It was the same lady she’d woken up a couple of days before. “I’m sorry,” she said out loud. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Molly got scared by another dog and ran away and then she hid under your flowers. We’re just going.” She could see Mum and Dad coming up the road now, with Jessie in her pushchair. She really hoped they weren’t going to be cross.

The old lady frowned. “But wasn’t it you who came to the door a couple of days ago?”

“Yes,” Anya admitted, feeling glad that Rachel and Zach had come over to stand by the wall now.

“Anya thought Molly was ours,” Rachel explained. “But she isn’t. No one knows who she belongs to, but Anya’s looking after her. It was my fault she’s in your garden. I let go of her lead.” She looked over apologetically at Anya’s mum and dad, who had arrived at the house. “I’m sorry, I should have held her tighter.”

“But you’re all OK?” Anya’s dad asked worriedly. “We only saw that you were trying to call Molly out of the garden.”

“We’re fine,” Anya said. “Molly got scared by a big dog. I think she might have met him before, it was like she knew him and he really frightened her.”

“I saw your posters,” the old lady broke in suddenly. “I didn’t realize it was the same dog. I have seen her before, you know, now that I look at her properly.”

“Have you?” Anya gulped, wondering if the old lady knew who Molly’s owners were. She crouched down and put her arms round the little dog. What if she was about to lose Molly again?

“On the beach. Yes, I’m sure it was her. Two or three times over the summer and never with the same people.”

“So she’s definitely a stray?” Anya’s mum said slowly, looking over at her dad.

The old lady nodded. “Poor little thing, I don’t think she can belong to anyone.”

Mum smiled at Anya. “I don’t think that’s true, Anya, do you?”

Anya took a deep breath of relief and smiled shakily back at her mum. Then she buried her nose in Molly’s frizzy ears. Molly nuzzled her damp nose against Anya’s cheek.

Then she looked up at the old lady and shook her head. “She does,” she explained. “Now she belongs to me.”

Anya curled up on the chair in front of Mum’s computer, and carefully typed in Rachel’s email address. Mum had written it down in her diary, so she couldn’t possibly lose it.

Anya pressed send and looked down at Molly, who was curled up under the desk, waiting for her to finish. Molly looked so beautiful now, with her coat clean and brushed. She was definitely less skinny, too.

Molly jumped up, putting her front paws on Anya’s knees, her fluffy golden tail wagging. She then rested her chin on Anya’s lap and stared up at her adoringly.

“It was the best holiday ever,” Anya whispered down to her, stroking Molly’s curly ears. “But it’s so nice to be home, isn’t it – especially now it’s your home, too.”