Saturday 14th December
The thing about humans is, they take an awful lot of looking after. Oh, I’m not saying that they’re not worth it. Just that, really, without us dogs, I don’t know what would happen to them.
Take my family, for example. The Walkers.
Ever since I arrived here as a puppy, it had always been the five of us. (Okay, six, if you include The Cat. I don’t, generally.) Jim, Amy, Jack, Claire and Me: Henry. (Fine, and Sookie. If you must.)
That is, until Bonfire Night, five weeks ago. (I remembered the date clearly, because it all happened in amongst the bangs and the flashes.) I was hiding under the chair in Jim and Amy’s bedroom (like any sane creature would be on Bonfire Night) so I saw Jim shoving clothes and things into his bag. And I heard Amy sobbing, asking Jim why.
Sometimes, I think maybe she didn’t understand what was going on any better than I did.
All I knew for sure was that Jim left that night, and he hasn’t really been back much since. This wasn’t like when he went out to work and I missed him, or even when they all went on holiday and left me at the kennels.
This was different. And I didn’t like it one bit.
After Jim had left, I’d curled up beside Amy as she cried herself to sleep on the bed. It was only after her sobs had subsided and I was sure that she was asleep that I risked jumping down to check on the others. Jack and Claire were both still outside, watching the fireworks from the nearby school field. I braved the noise and the lights to check that they were okay, then headed back in to my basket to have a think about what was happening – and how I could fix it.
It was then that Sookie had slinked out from behind the sofa and looked at me with that awful, superior gaze that all cats seem to have.
‘Well, that’s you done for,’ she’d said. I hadn’t understood, and she wasn’t willing to explain. But ever since, I’d been looking for clues, something to explain what was going on – and ideas on how to make things better.
The next morning, Amy had sat Jack and Claire down and explained things to them. I’d listened in, of course, but all I’d managed to understand was that Jim had gone away, and we all needed to help out and do our bit to keep things together.
Well. That was easy! I would be the most helpful dog they could ever wish for.
I started by checking in on Jack and Claire at bedtime. Sometimes, Claire would be crying when I stopped by her room, so I’d jump up on her bed and snuggle for a while, until she felt better, or fell asleep. (I wasn’t really supposed to go on the beds, but I figured these were special circumstances. Besides, Claire’s bed is really comfy.)
Next, I made a point of helping keep the place clean and tidy by eating up any scraps of food that found their way onto the floor. But then I decided that wasn’t helpful enough, so I started jumping up onto the kitchen chairs to clean off the plates that got left there after meals, sometimes. They were always very clean by the time I’d finished licking them.
Amy didn’t seem to appreciate this as much as I thought she would, and after a while, Jack started putting all the plates in the dishwasher as soon as they’d finished eating. So I started looking for other ways to help, instead.
One big worry I had was that there were a lot fewer walks for me. Jack would take me out to explore the park sometimes, but he usually met up with his mates and made me sit around on my lead while I waited for him to finish chatting. Claire was only allowed to take me as far as the local shop and back on her own, and I already knew all the scents along that route, so it was a bit boring. Also, sometimes Sookie followed us too – I always suspected that she was Claire’s favourite.
Amy didn’t seem to have time for walks at all, any more. But I knew that she always felt better after we’d been out for one, so I started grabbing my lead from the hook in the hallway, then dashing out the front door whenever it was opened, so she’d have to follow and chase me. By the time she caught me and clipped on my lead, and we’d walked home again, we’d both got some exercise and fresh air. Amy never seemed very grateful for it, but I knew it was helping, really.
Still, overall, the atmosphere in the Walker household was not as bright and cheerful as I was used to – and Jim hadn’t been back once. Despite my best efforts, my family were suffering.
But then this morning, everything changed.
Amy sprang down the stairs with a sense of purpose, shoving things into her bag and making sandwiches by the loaf. Something was happening – and I really wanted to know what.
‘Jack! Where’s your blue rucksack?’ Amy yelled up the stairs. I pressed closer to the table by the front door as I watched.
‘Can I take my tablet?’ Claire asked, holding up her electronic device.
‘Definitely not,’ Amy replied. ‘Why don’t