One Dog and His Boy

4 Hal Chooses

Mr Carker always saw important clients in his office before he took them round, and Mr Fenton, who was head of International Power Inc., was clearly important.

“I believe you know our terms,” he said, “they’re laid out in the brochure. Twenty-five pounds an hour, and a deposit of three hundred pounds, returnable when the dog is brought back to us in good condition. Now, for a weekend borrowing we have a special rate—”

“Yes, yes,” said Mr Fenton hurriedly. Hal had been looking out of the window and hadn’t been listening. He lowered his voice. “Perhaps you have someone who could show my son round while we deal with the business.” He gave Mr Carker a meaningful look and Mr Carker caught on quickly. He was very used to people who lied to their children, and he went out into the corridor and shouted for Kayley.

“Will you take the young gentleman through the rooms and show him the dogs?” he said when she came. “He’s going to pick one out.”

Kayley smiled at Hal and he smiled back. He thought being a kennel maid must be the most wonderful job in the world; and she was so pretty with her wavy dark hair and her deep blue eyes …

“I’m allowed to pick out whichever one I want,” Hal told her. “I hope it’ll be a young one because dogs can live for fifteen years, can’t they, or more, so I’ll have him till I’m grown up.”

Kayley drew in her breath. She knew that Easy Pets were never rented out for more than three days. So they were tricking the child; she’d seen it done before. “Have you got any special breed in mind?”

Hal shook his head. “No. I just want to look – when I see the right one, I’ll know.” He looked up at her trustingly. “I’ll know at once, I’m absolutely sure.”

“Yes,” said Kayley. “It’s often like that. One just knows.”

She took him first to Room E, at the back of the building, and stopped by a basset hound, wheezing mightily in the corner of his cage. He was a most attractive dog, and Hal scratched him through the bars of the cage, but he did not say anything. The dog next to him was the mastiff who had bad dreams, and Hal listened open-mouthed while Kayley told him the sad story of the swallowed finger.

“She’s over it now, but the other dogs are very gentle with her; it’s as though they know.”

Nobody could help loving the mastiff but Hal was a sensible boy. It was nearly half-term now but later he would be at school part of each day; such an enormous dog would not get enough exercise. Next to the mastiff was a beautiful Cavalier King Charles spaniel who obediently lay down on his back with his paws in the air ready to be scratched or stroked – or even kicked, because these spaniels are such good-natured dogs that they will do anything to give their owners pleasure.

“He’s had a bad time too,” said Kayley. “The couple he belonged to split up and they sent him backwards and forwards on the train between Edinburgh and London, from one to the other. If he sees a train now, he just sits down and howls.”

“Oh, I wish I could have him,” said Hal. “He’s a marvellous dog.” And Kayley nodded, for the spaniel would have been a perfect choice.

But Hal went on to the next cage, past a corgi, past a schnauzer … and then through into Room D.

The first dog they came to there was a Dalmatian, and Kayley half waited for Hal to say, “That’s the one,” because since the famous film about Dalmatians every child in the world seemed to want one. But again, though Hal scratched him through the bars, and sighed a little – he did not stop. They passed a Lhasa apso, so hairy that it was hard to tell which end was which, and a pug. The dogs were tired now, it was the end of a working day, but when they saw Kayley come with a visitor they did their best to sit up and greet them politely. A chow … a beautiful Tibetan lion dog … a Labrador…

Hal was looking a little strained now. He had been absolutely certain that he would know when he came to the dog that was for him – yet they had passed so many marvellous dogs and no voice had spoken inside his head and said, “Stop! This is the one.”

Suppose he had been mistaken? Suppose there wasn’t one dog waiting for him which he would instantly recognize? And Kayley, seeing his anxiety, put her arm round his shoulders and they moved on into the next room, Room C, where she pointed out the special things about each of the dogs they came to: the markings round the eyes of a deerhound, which in the old days had made people think they could tell the future … the tight woolly coat of the Irish water spaniel which meant they could swim in the coldest water.

And still Hal marvelled at the dogs, and still he shook his head, and still they went on.

Hal’s father had come to join them now and he tried to give Hal some advice. “That boxer’s got a nice smooth coat – he wouldn’t make too much of a mess,” he said. Or, “I dare say your mother wouldn’t mind that little dachshund too much?”

But Hal, with his forehead crumpled up, scarcely heard what he said. With Kayley beside him, he walked from dog to dog – and looked … and did not say the words that everybody waited for.

Room A now. They passed Otto, and Hal stopped to give him an extra scratch between the ears. The beauty of his character shone through; this was a very special dog, and he saw how tenderly Kayley smiled at him. Francine too; Hal could see through the fussy poodle clipping to her hardworking, steady soul. Then the collie … Hal had seen every Lassie film ever made – but still he did not stop. Nor did he stop for the Peke, or Queen Tilly lying on her hot water bottle.

But this was the last room. There was one cage in the corner but it was empty. There were no more dogs.

“I was wrong,” he said in a small voice. “I thought I would know.”

It didn’t matter. Every dog in the place was worth having. He would get Kayley to pick one out for him, but his confidence was gone.

It was at this moment that two men in brown overalls came through the door which led from the street into the cubbyhole.

“We’ve had a message from the shelter,” one of them said. “They’ve got a burst pipe – the floor’s awash and they can’t take in any more animals tonight, so we’ve brought him back. Number fifty-one.”

“Where is he?” asked Kayley.

“He’s still in his crate out at the back. We were just going to load him up when we got the message. Where do you want him?”

“Bring him in here,” said Kayley.

“Oh, we can’t do that. Mr Carker’s signed him off – he wouldn’t want—”

“Bring him in,” repeated the kennel maid.

There was a short pause; then the men shrugged and went out again.

Kayley followed them. There was the sound of a crate being prised open, and something small and white appeared in the doorway. For a moment, Fleck stood still and looked about him. Then like a bullet from a gun he shot across the room and hurled himself at Hal. Almost at the same time, Hal dropped to his knees and held out his arms.

“I told you!” he cried. “I told you I’d know. I told you both of us would know!”

Mr Carker came in at that point and took everything in.

“Ah, you have found the Tottenham terrier,” he said with an oily smile. “We were just about to take him to … to a dog show … but there’s been a delay.” He turned to Mr Fenton. “Of course for a dog like that we’d have to charge considerably more. The breed is still very rare.”

Mr Fenton was about to complain, but then he looked at Hal. Or rather he looked at the bundle that was Hal and the dog, seeming to merge into a single thing – and he shrugged and followed Mr Carker to his office.

“He’s called Fleck,” said Kayley, when the men had gone. “It’s because—”

Hal looked up at her. “I know why – it’s because he’s got a gold fleck in his left eye.”

“Yes,” said Kayley. “That is exactly why.”