Buttons the Runaway Puppy (5 page)

“You’re home now, Buttons,” Sophie said in a very small, shaky voice. She was holding back her tears. “You’re going to look after Mr Jenkins, aren’t you?” She crouched down to stroke Buttons’s nose, and whispered, “Please don’t forget us!” in her ear.

Then they left, and Buttons stared after them out of the window. She remembered now that it was her special job to look after her old owner. But she wished she could go home with Sophie.

Chapter Seven

With no Buttons, it felt like there was a hole in the house. She wasn’t jumping hopefully round while the Martins got ready to go out, begging with her enormous eyes for them to take her, too. She wasn’t there barking with delight when they got home again. She wasn’t sitting under the table during meals, her nose wedged lovingly on
someone’s knee, waiting for crumbs or the odd toast crust. She wasn’t on Sophie’s bed at night, so Sophie could burrow her toes underneath her warm weight. She was gone.

The summer days stretched out emptily with no dog to walk. Everyone moped around the house, until Mum and Dad sat the children down to talk one morning, just a few days after they’d taken Buttons back.

“Look, I know you all miss Buttons,” Dad told them gently. “We had her for nearly a month, long enough for it to feel like she was ours. But try and think of it like this. You did such a good job looking after her, and now she’s back where she belongs. Mr Jenkins needs her more than we do – she’s all he’s got.
We’re really proud of you, you know. Especially all that hard work you put into training her.” He smiled at their mum, and she nodded. “So we were thinking, maybe it’s time we let you have a dog of your own.” He sat back and looked at them hopefully, but no one said anything. And then Sophie got up from the table and ran out of the room.

“She only wants Buttons,” Michael muttered.

Dad nodded sadly. “I guess it might be a bit too soon. But I mean it, boys. You all did well. And you deserve a dog of your own, when you’re ready for one.”

That weekend, Dad loaded them all into the car, and refused to tell the children where they were going. “It’s a secret,” he said, smiling at their mum.

They drove through the town, and Sophie and Michael and Tom tried to work out where they were heading, but Dad wouldn’t say if they were right.

Then suddenly Sophie gasped. “The shelter! We’re going to the dogs’ home,
aren’t we?” Her voice shook, and she was choking up as she went on. “Please don’t, Dad. I don’t want to look at other dogs.”

“Hey, come on, Sophie, let’s just go and see,” Tom said excitedly. “Is she right, Dad? Are we going to the shelter?”

“Yup.” Dad pulled up close to a big blue sign that said
Rushbrook Animal Shelter.
“And we’re here. Come on, everyone.”

“Remember we’re just looking at the moment,” Mum warned the boys, as she walked in with her arm round Sophie, who was trying really hard not to cry.

“We know!” Michael promised, but he and Tom were racing ahead, eager to see all the dogs they were imagining could be theirs.

“I hope this wasn’t a bad idea,” Mum murmured.

The shelter was full, and all the dogs looked desperate for new homes. Even though Sophie hated the thought of getting another dog – it would feel like she had forgotten Buttons – she had to read the cards over the pens. And once she knew the dogs’ names, and their stories, she couldn’t help caring about them a little bit.

“Oh, Sophie, look…” Mum was crouching next to the wire front of a pen, gazing at a greyhound, whose long legs were spilling out of his basket. “He’s lovely, isn’t he? Not that we could get a greyhound, they must need so much exercise. Look at his legs!”

“Actually it says here that older 
greyhounds don’t like too much exercise. They’re quite lazy. He’s called Fred and he’s looking for a quiet, loving home.” Sophie looked at Fred, snoozing happily. “He looks pretty relaxed,” she said, giggling.

“Oh, it’s nice to see you smile!” Her mum hugged her. “Sophie, you know, even if you don’t want a dog now, I’m sure you will one day. You were so wonderful with Buttons.”

“That’s because she was wonderful,” Sophie whispered, digging her nails into her palms so as not to start crying again. “Sorry, Mum.” She sniffed hard, and turned back to look at Fred. “He does look lovely, though,” she said bravely.

Michael and Tom wanted about six different dogs each, but on the way home in the car even they had to agree that the perfect dog hadn’t been at the shelter this time. “But they said they get new dogs all the time, Dad,” Tom pointed out. “Can we go back soon?” Sophie leaned against the window and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure she could bear to go again. All those gorgeous dogs, all wanting a home and someone to love them. But Sophie just couldn’t love another dog. Not yet.

At Mr Jenkins’s house, Buttons was moping, too. She tried not to show it, but it was so hard going back to little short walks. Mr Jenkins was much, much better since his operation, but he still had a stick, and he couldn’t walk fast, or for very long. There were no more fantastic runs over the common. No imaginary rabbit-hunting in the woods. Just slow, gentle ambles round the streets. Mr Jenkins couldn’t help noticing on their walks that his bouncy, overexcited little puppy had turned into a sad young dog instead. He was glad that she was so well-behaved, of course – Sophie and her brothers had done wonders with her – but he almost
wished that just occasionally she would be her silly, happy little self again.

Buttons was very good. She walked to heel, like Tom and Michael and Sophie had shown her. She wondered if Mr Jenkins would let her off the lead, so she could fetch, but she supposed he didn’t know she could do that now. She never tried to get out of the garden, even though she could have done, if she’d wanted. She knew how to open the bolt after all. She looked at it sometimes, and wondered about going to see Sophie. But she wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t belong there any more.

Chapter Eight

Sophie’s mum put down the phone, and came slowly back to the table, where everyone was finishing lunch.

“Who was that?” Sophie asked.

“It was Mr Jenkins. He’s asked us all round for a cup of tea this afternoon.” Mum looked at Sophie, whose face had suddenly crumpled, and Tom and Michael, and said firmly, “I told him of
course we would love to. It will be nice to see him.”

Sophie stared at her fruit salad, and knew she couldn’t eat any more. “Please may I leave the table,” she muttered, getting up. She wasn’t sure she could be brave enough to go and see Buttons in her real home. Not when she kept imagining her back here.

Her mum sighed and let Sophie go. She looked worriedly at their dad. “It’s going to be especially hard for Sophie to see Buttons. She hasn’t been in the garden when we’ve walked past, and I’ve been grateful. But I suppose it has to happen sooner or later.”

Sophie trailed behind the others as they went round to Mr Jenkins’s house, walking as slowly as she could. She was desperate to see Buttons, of course she was. And she felt guilty about not going to visit Mr Jenkins sooner.

But she hadn’t been able to make herself go. It had been two whole weeks, and she was only just starting to miss Buttons a tiny bit less. If she saw her again, Sophie knew it would be worse than before.

Mr Jenkins answered the door, and there was Buttons, tail wagging furiously, gazing up at Sophie, her big, brown eyes full of love. Sophie had to look away. But she made herself look back and smile. She didn’t want Buttons to be miserable too.

Mr Jenkins sent them all to sit down while he made tea and got juice, and then he asked Tom to carry the tray in for him. He seemed a lot better, although he still had his stick. Buttons stayed right next to him the whole time, so when he sat down she sat by him, but she stared at Sophie.

Sophie stared back, sadly.

Buttons edged slightly closer, wriggling on her bottom to where Sophie was sitting next to her mum on the sofa. She wanted to cheer Sophie up. She could try, at least. Inch by inch, she travelled the short distance to the sofa, and leaned her nose lovingly against Sophie’s leg.

Sophie stroked her, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh, I’ve really missed you,”
she whispered to Buttons. Then she realized that Mr Jenkins was talking, now that he’d made sure everyone had a drink. He sounded very serious.

“I need to ask you all an enormous favour.” He looked at Buttons, her head in Sophie’s lap, and sighed. “All the time I was in the hospital, I was so keen to be at home, back to normal, with my dog. The same as things were before. But since I’ve been back home I’ve realized that what I suspected was right. I wasn’t looking after Buttons well enough before. I can’t keep up with her!” He smiled sadly. “It’s going to be a huge wrench – I’ve always had a dog, always had big dogs – but I’m going to have to give her up. I couldn’t even manage to train her properly!”

He looked at Tom and Michael and Sophie, who were staring back at him wide-eyed. “You three did what I just didn’t have the energy to do – turned Buttons into a beautifully behaved dog. Since she’s been back with me, she hasn’t pulled on her lead, she hasn’t barged into me. She’s been a treasure. But it isn’t fair on her, having to live with a doddery old man. She needs to be able to go racing up to the common. So I’ve decided. She’s going to have to go to the shelter. Unless…”

Sophie gulped.

Mr Jenkins smiled at her. “Unless you can take her. I mean, keep her. Have her as yours. She’s missed you, you know. Every time she goes into the garden, she goes and stands by the
back fence. She’s listening out for you in your garden.”

Sophie looked up at her mum, her eyes pleading, and saw that she was laughing.

“We’d told the children they could have their own dog, because they’d looked after Buttons so well. We even went to the shelter to look for one. But none of us could find the dog we wanted, we missed Buttons so much. Of course we’ll have her!”

Sophie slipped off the sofa, and hugged Buttons round the neck. “You’re coming home with us, Buttons! You’re really our dog now!” Then she looked up at Mr Jenkins, frowning. “But what will you do without her? Won’t you miss her?” 

Mr Jenkins nodded. “Of course I will. But it isn’t fair to make her miserable, just to keep me happy.”

“I could bring her to see you…” Sophie suggested, and Mr Jenkins smiled gratefully.

They finished their tea, and Mr Jenkins found all Buttons’s things for them to take home. He was trying to be cheerful, but Sophie could see he was really upset about giving Buttons away. He was going to be so lonely without her.

Sophie was watching him stroke Buttons lovingly as they said goodbye, when it suddenly came to her.

“Oh! I’ve just had the most brilliant idea! When we went to the shelter, there was a greyhound, a gorgeous brindled one, called Fred. The card on his pen said he was quite old, and he wanted a quiet, loving home! That’s you!”

Mr Jenkins stared at her, frowning thoughtfully as he leaned against
the doorframe. “A greyhound … I’ve never had a greyhound before. I hadn’t thought of going to the shelter, but they do want homes for older dogs, don’t they…” He smiled. “Do you think you and Buttons would let an old man and an old dog tag along on your walks sometimes, Sophie?”

Buttons looked up at Sophie’s glowing face, and Mr Jenkins’s smile, and even though she stood beautifully still, her tail waved joyfully. Buttons could see they were happy and she was, too – she was going home.