Buttons the Runaway Puppy (3 page)

The black cat jumped from the wall into the safety of a tree. Buttons barked one last flurry of barks, then looked guiltily at Sophie. She’d been told off about this yesterday, but she’d forgotten. Cats were just so tempting!

“Do you know this dog? Can you grab her collar, please?” A woman was hurrying up the garden path. “I need to take her back to her owner. This is the third time she’s chased my cat; she was out this morning as well.”

Sophie caught hold of Buttons’s collar, and patted her gently to try and calm her down. Buttons wriggled, so Sophie picked her up instead, and the puppy snuggled gratefully into her arms.

 “Be careful!” the cat’s owner said anxiously. “She’s snappy! Vicious little thing.”

Sophie looked at the woman in surprise. Buttons? Sophie was sure she wasn’t vicious, just a bit naughty.

The woman came out of her garden, looking worriedly up at her cat, and opened Mr Jenkins’s gate. “Would you be able to take her back? She seems to
behave for you. I really need to talk to Mr Jenkins, this is getting silly.”

Sophie followed her, almost wishing she hadn’t gone out to send her postcard. She was glad she’d been able to catch Buttons – the little dog could have been hurt if she’d run into the road – but she didn’t want to be in the middle of an argument between Mr Jenkins and his neighbour.

Mr Jenkins answered the door, and he looked horrified when he saw them. “Mrs Lane! Sophie! Oh, Buttons, not again…”

“Again,” Mrs Lane said grimly. “The third time. You promised me this morning you wouldn’t let her out!”

“I really am sorry, Mrs Lane. I’ve
got someone coming to block up the hole under the fence later on, and I’ve kept Buttons shut in ever since I found it. She must’ve climbed out of the window.” He gestured at an open window, and Sophie noticed that the flowers underneath looked rather squashed.

“If this happens again, I’ll have to report you to the council,” Mrs Lane said crossly. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. But you’re just not keeping her properly under control. She’s a little terror!”

Mr Jenkins frowned. “I can only apologize, and promise you that it won’t happen again.” He sighed and leaned wearily against the door frame.

“Please make sure that it doesn’t.”
Mrs Lane looked at him and her voice softened. “Are you all right, Mr Jenkins? Would you like me to call your doctor? You really don’t look very well.”

Mr Jenkins stood up very straight. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” he said coldly. “Sophie, could you pass Buttons to me, please?”

Sophie handed Buttons over a little reluctantly. Mrs Lane was right – he didn’t look well, and she was worried Buttons was too heavy for him to carry. But she didn’t dare say so. “Bye, Mr Jenkins; bye, Buttons,” she whispered.

Mrs Lane stalked back down the path, and Sophie followed her, looking back to see Mr Jenkins closing the window to a tiny crack, and Buttons
standing next to him now, with her paws on the window sill – Sophie guessed the puppy was standing on a chair – staring sadly after her. “See you soon, Buttons!” she whispered. Maybe next time she’d ask about being allowed to walk her.

That night, Sophie sat curled up in bed, staring out of her window. Her room was at the back of the house, and she could see the big tree in Mr Jenkins’s garden and his house beyond. Buttons was in there. At least, Sophie hoped she was. She’d been lying in bed, thinking about how she’d go and see Mr Jenkins tomorrow and
ask him about walking Buttons, but then she’d had an awful thought.

What if the little dog had already got
out again? Sophie had a horrible feeling that if Buttons could dig one hole under the fence, then it wouldn’t be long before she’d make another one. And this time she’d be in real trouble.

I should have been brave enough to ask Mr Jenkins about walking her
, she thought miserably, one tear trickling slowly down her cheek. If Buttons didn’t get walked, she’d keep trying to go out by herself. That grumpy lady had said she’d call the council if Buttons chased her cat again.

“Sophie! Why are you still awake? It’s really late.” Her mum was looking
round the door. “Oh, Sophie, what’s wrong?” She came in and sat on the end of the bed. “You’re crying!”

“Mum, what would happen to a dog if somebody called the council about her?” Sophie asked worriedly.

Her mum put an arm round her shoulders. “I – I don’t know, Sophie. Is this about Buttons?” Sophie had told her what had happened earlier on.

“Mrs Lane said she’d call the council. They’d take Buttons away from Mr Jenkins, Mum, I know they would. She’d get put in the dogs’ home.”

Her mum sighed. “I know it’s hard to accept, but that might not be a bad thing…”

“Mum!” Sophie looked shocked.

“You’ve been saying that Mr Jenkins can’t walk Buttons enough, Sophie. She’s only going to get bigger, and stronger. She’s not an old man’s dog. She’s such a sweet little thing, she’d probably be adopted by a lovely family.”

“But she loves Mr Jenkins!” Sophie
told her anxiously. “You can see from the way she looks at him. And he’s really lonely, with all his family so far away. He needs her, Mum.” She didn’t add that if Buttons got a new home, she’d never see her again – it seemed really selfish. But she couldn’t help
thinking
it.

Sophie’s mum nodded sadly. “I know. I’m sorry, Sophie. I just don’t think there’s a right answer to all of this.” She stood up, and pulled Sophie’s bedcover straight. “Try and go to sleep, OK?”

Sophie nodded. But after her mum had gone, she went back to looking out of the window, and thinking about poor Buttons, just across the garden. “Be good, Buttons!” she murmured, as she finally lay down to sleep.

Chapter Four

Buttons had just finished her breakfast, and she was playing with one of the new chew toys Mr Jenkins had got to keep her entertained, when she heard a terrible, sliding crash. She dashed into the hallway, where the noise seemed to have come from.

Mr Jenkins was lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Buttons howled in shock and fright. Her owner wasn’t moving. It looked as though he’d tripped over his stick on the way down the stairs. Miserably, she waited for him to get up.

He didn’t.

After waiting for a few minutes, staring worriedly at his closed eyes and pale face, Buttons nosed him gently. Was he asleep?

Mr Jenkins groaned, and Buttons jumped back in surprise. That wasn’t a good noise.

“Buttons…” he murmured. “Good girl. I’ll get up in a minute. Oh…” But as he tried to move, Mr Jenkins collapsed back again, groaning. “No, I can’t.” He was silent for a moment, breathing fast. “Buttons, go fetch help.
Go on…” His voice died away, and his eyes closed again, as Buttons watched him anxiously.

He didn’t stir, even when Buttons licked his face, very gently.

Buttons whined. He’d said to fetch help, but she wasn’t sure what he meant. Sophie! She would get Sophie. Buttons was sure she would know what to do.

Buttons backed away from Mr Jenkins slowly, and looked at the front door. It was closed. She trotted down the hallway and into the kitchen. The back door was shut, too. She nudged it hopefully. Mr Jenkins had let her out first thing – perhaps he hadn’t quite closed it properly? But it was shut fast, and pawing at it did nothing.

She walked back up the hallway. Mr Jenkins hadn’t moved. People weren’t meant to be that still. She had to get out and find Sophie! Buttons stood by the door and barked as loudly as she could, hoping that someone would come and open it for her, but no one did.

She stared at the door for a minute, then went into the living room. Buttons eyed the window.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to do this. Mr Jenkins had said no, very crossly and that she must never do it again.

But what else was she supposed to do? No one had come when she called. The doors were all shut. It was the only way out, and Mr Jenkins needed help.

Buttons clambered on to the armchair and up on to the backrest, so that her front paws were on the window sill. Then she stuck her nose through the window. It was only open a crack. Mr Jenkins liked fresh air, and he always had the windows open, but he had almost shut this one because of the time she’d climbed out of the window before. But when she pushed with her nose the window opened just a crack more.

Now she could get her ears through – although it was a squeeze and it hurt. Buttons wriggled her shoulders as if she were shaking water out of her fur, and scrabbled and scrambled and finally tumbled out of the window, landing clumsily in the flower bed underneath.

She wasn’t excited by the idea of a trip, like she’d been yesterday. Now she wanted to be curled up next to Mr Jenkins’s armchair, his hand stroking
her ears, watching one of those delicious food programmes on the television.

Buttons headed for her little hole under the fence, but when she wriggled under the bush, it wasn’t there! She lay there staring at the fence, whimpering in confusion. Brand-new boards had been nailed across the bottom, and her hole had been completely blocked up. She’d gone through all that trouble to get into the garden, and now she couldn’t get out.

Suddenly Buttons’s ears pricked up. She could hear Sophie! Sophie was in her garden on the other side of the back fence. She wriggled out from under the bush, barking loudly as she ran to the other end of the garden.

“Hi, Buttons!” Sophie called back, laughing, and Buttons barked louder. Sophie didn’t understand! She thought Buttons was just barking to be friendly, like she sometimes did. She would have to get out of the garden and go and get Sophie. She gave a few more loud barks, then scampered back to look at the gate.

She had tried to open it before, and it hadn’t worked, but she had been smaller then. She would try again. She scratched at it, but nothing much happened. It shook a little, but that was all. Buttons took a few steps back and looked up. That silvery part sticking out at the top was what made it open, she was sure. It clicked and rattled when people came in. If she could pull
it across, the gate would open. And she thought she was tall enough now, if she really stretched.

Luckily for Buttons, the bolt was old and loose, but not rusty, and when she dragged at it with her strong, young teeth, it slid back easily enough. The gate opened, and Buttons sat in front of it, looking out at the street in amazement. She had done it!

Now all she had to do was find Sophie.

Buttons trotted out into the street. Then she stared back at the house, one last time, hoping the front door would open, and Mr Jenkins would come out, saying he was all right now. She wouldn’t even mind if he told her off for opening the gate.

But the door stayed firmly shut. Buttons looked up and down the road. She needed to find Sophie’s house. Maybe she could sniff her out.

“Naughty dog!” someone shouted, and Buttons raced off. She knew that voice – the angry lady with the cat. She wanted Buttons to come back, but Buttons wasn’t going to let anyone stop her now.

Buttons sped round the corner, looking back over her shoulder anxiously. No one was following. Good. She looked at the houses on either side of the road, and her tail drooped. How was she supposed to know which house was Sophie’s? She was sure it had to be along here somewhere – she could feel that she’d gone in the right direction. But working out exactly which house lined up with hers was beyond her.

Perhaps she could call Sophie? She barked hopefully, then louder and louder again. Nothing happened.

Buttons sat down in the middle of the pavement and howled. She would never find Sophie.

“Buttons!”

Sophie came running along the pavement towards her, followed by Tom and Michael. “I told you I heard her barking. There
is
something wrong, I know there is. Oh no, I hope she hasn’t been chasing that cat.”

Buttons ran up to them, wagging her tail gratefully. She’d almost given up.

“We’d better take her back,” Tom said. “Grab her collar, Sophie, we don’t want her to run into the road.”

But when Sophie tried to catch hold of Buttons, she backed off.

“What’s the matter, Buttons?” Sophie asked, feeling confused.

“She looks upset,” Michael commented. “She isn’t wagging her tail any more. She isn’t hurt, is she?”

Sophie crouched down and tried to
call the puppy over. “Here, Buttons, come on. Good girl.” But Buttons whimpered, and looked anxiously down the street.

Sophie frowned. “I think she wants us to follow her. Come on! Show me, good dog, Buttons.” And Sophie grabbed Tom and Michael by the hand and dragged them after her.

Buttons ran along in front of them, turning every few steps to check they were following.

“I hope something hasn’t happened to Mr Jenkins,” Michael muttered.

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked in an anxious voice.

“I can’t think why else she’d be so desperate for us to follow her,” Michael explained reluctantly.

“Let’s go faster,” said Sophie, speeding up. “He looked awful when I took Buttons back yesterday.”

They reached the house, panting, and Buttons pushed open the gate. Then she ran to the door, and paced back and forth between the door and the open window, whining.
Hurry, hurry!
she tried to tell them.
Let me in! You have to help him!

Sophie rang the bell, but she didn’t really expect anyone to answer it.

Buttons barked, sounding more and more desperate, and Tom pulled out his mobile. “Do you think we should call the police?” he asked. “Or try the neighbours?”

“Shhhh!” Sophie said suddenly. “Listen. I can hear something.”

Faintly, from inside the house, she could hear a voice. Even Buttons stopped barking. She listened too, and she heard Mr Jenkins saying, “Help! Buttons, are you there? Sophie, is that you?”

“He’s calling for help!” Sophie gasped. She scrabbled at the door handle, her fingers slipping. She was sure it hadn’t been locked when she’d brought Buttons back before.

“Not the police, an ambulance,” Tom muttered, when Sophie had got the door open and he saw Mr Jenkins lying at the foot of the stairs. “Don’t move him!” he called to Sophie, who was kneeling beside the old man, her hand on Buttons’s collar.

“I won’t,” Sophie said. “Mr Jenkins, Buttons found us. Did you send her to fetch us? She’s so clever, she made us follow her.”

Mr Jenkins looked up at her, smiling a little. “I knew she’d get help,” he whispered. “Good dog, Buttons.”

And Buttons licked his cheek, very, very gently.