“So, they didn’t leave a number?” Anya asked the vet’s receptionist. She hated it that Molly’s owners didn’t seem to have looked after her properly. Even though the receptionist was almost sure that the people she remembered coming in to ask about their lost dog had been talking about Molly, she said they were in a rush and hadn’t left her their phone number. Molly wasn’t microchipped, either.
Secretly though, Anya couldn’t help feeling relieved. If the vet did have a way to contact Molly’s real owners, Anya would have to give her back. And that was getting harder and harder to imagine.
“There’s an animal shelter in Westerby,” the receptionist went on, handing Anya a leaflet. “I’m afraid we can’t take stray dogs here, although I’d love to. She looks like a little treasure.”
“She is sweet,” Anya’s dad agreed. “I wouldn’t mind keeping her, but we’ve got a small baby, so I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” He looked over Anya’s shoulder at the leaflet. “Mmm. I suppose we’ll have to take her there, then. I’d better call your mum.”
“Can’t we wait a bit?” Anya asked, crossing her fingers in the folds of her skirt and doing her best pleading-eyes look at Dad. “We still don’t know for certain that Molly belonged to those people. It could have been another dog. Me and Rachel are going to make notices to put up, to tell everybody that we’ve found her.”
Dad nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose a day or two wouldn’t hurt, just so long as your mum agrees,” he said. “But after that she’ll have to go to the shelter.”
Rachel had brought a sketchpad on holiday with her and lots of felt pens, so she and Anya drew posters that afternoon at Anya’s cottage. It was a greyish sort of day, not really the best day for playing out on the beach, anyway. Then they borrowed Anya’s mum’s mobile, just in case of an emergency, and went out to stick up the signs on lampposts and on the railings along the seafront. “After all, she was on the beach,” Rachel pointed out. “So it makes sense that her owners might have lost her there. If they’re still looking for her, this is a good place to put a sign.”
Too good, Anya thought to herself. She almost felt like tearing the posters down again.
“We’ve got to get back,” Rachel said, as they finished putting up the last one. “Mum said she’d come and pick me up from yours at three and it’s five to. Oh, do you want to come on a picnic with us tomorrow afternoon? She said it was OK to ask you and your mum and dad, and Jessie and Molly, too.”
“Yes, please!” Anya nodded eagerly. “But if we’re going on a picnic, then we can’t take Molly to the shelter. Dad did say we could keep her for a day or two, though…”
Rachel sighed. “It’s not fair – I wish you could keep her. She loves you!”
Anya giggled. “Only because I feed her loads and she’s so hungry. I think she looks fatter already and we’ve only had her a day.”
“It isn’t just that. She looks so happy. And gorgeous, now you’ve brushed her and she’s got a new collar and lead.”
Anya had spent most of her holiday money at the vet’s, buying things for Molly. But she didn’t mind. Even if Molly did go to the shelter, she was much more likely to be adopted if she was well groomed and had a smart collar on, wasn’t she? Anya hated the thought of Molly being stuck at the shelter for ages, with nobody to stroke her and fuss over her and love her properly. Like I would, she added silently to herself.
Rachel’s mum was just coming along the seafront path as they got to Anya’s cottage. They waved to her.
“Thanks for inviting us on the picnic,” Anya said. “I’ll just nip in and ask Mum and Dad, shall I? Oh dear…” She made a face. “I can hear Jessie crying – she’s teething.”
Dad came to let her in. “Sorry about the noise,” he said to Rachel’s mum, with a frazzled sort of smile. “Poor Jess. She’s really miserable. Anya’s mum is upstairs catching up on a bit of sleep.”
Rachel’s mum started to explain about the picnic, and Anya and Rachel went over to see Jessie. She was in her car seat – it looked like Dad had been rocking her. Her cheeks were red and she was making sad little hiccupping noises.
“Hello, Jessie,” Anya crooned. “Are your teeth still hurting? Poor baby…” And she rocked the car seat gently.
Rachel and Molly watched, but the rocking didn’t seem to help – Jessie’s crying only got louder.
“It’s OK, Molly,” Rachel whispered, seeing the dog’s ears twitching worriedly. “I don’t think Molly likes the noise.”
Anya looked round, wondering if she should move Molly away from Jessie, but the little dog crept forward and laid her nose very gently on the car seat. She gave a quiet whine and stared at Jessie.
Jessie stared back, looking surprised – at least, Anya thought she did. It was hard to tell with babies sometimes. But she definitely stopped crying. She gazed into Molly’s dark eyes and made a sort of cooing sound.
Dad looked down at Jessie and smiled. “That’s the first time she’s stopped grizzling all afternoon!” he murmured. “Good girl, Molly. She’s been very good around Jessie, actually,” he explained to Rachel’s mum. “I was worried about having a dog with a baby, but maybe if we were very careful…”
Anya and Rachel exchanged a delighted look. Molly was definitely winning Dad over!
“Mum and Dad are still making sandwiches, so they sent us to get you,” Zach explained.
“OK, I’ll go and tell Mum and Dad you’re here. I don’t think they’re quite ready. Can you put Molly’s lead on, Rachel?” Anya handed Rachel the lead, and Molly wriggled and yapped, trying to catch it in her teeth. She loved walks.
Dad came down the stairs and laughed at Molly jumping around. “Poor Moll, you can’t make her wait now, Anya, she might keel over from the excitement. Why don’t the two of you walk over with Zach and Rachel, and we’ll catch you up in a minute?”
Rachel went to hand the lead back to Anya when they got out of the front door, but Anya shook her head. “You can hold her if you want to,” she told Rachel. She knew how much Rachel would love a dog, even though she adored Alfie, their little ginger cat. She’d shown Anya pictures of him. He had the brightest pink nose Anya had ever seen on a cat.
They walked to Rachel and Zach’s house along the seafront path, past lots of other people with dogs and children who stopped to stroke her. Anya watched Molly proudly – she looked so lovely and she was walking nicely for Rachel, too.
Molly trotted along, sniffing happily at all the good smells along the bottom of the railings and enjoying the fuss that the children were making of her. It was so nice to be patted and told she was a good dog.
She glanced up at Anya, to check that she was still there and hadn’t disappeared and then looked ahead to see where they were going. She stopped short with a frightened whimper. She knew that dog. That big, fierce golden dog, who was coming towards them.
He’d spotted her, too, and he growled loudly, pulling hard on his lead. The dog was going to chase her again!
Molly whimpered and darted backwards, nearly tripping Rachel up. Zach and Anya both made a grab for her lead to help, but Molly yanked it out of Rachel’s hand and shot across the road, desperate to get away from the big Labrador.
A car braked suddenly and the driver started to yell at the three children, but they were already darting across the road behind him, racing after Molly.