My Dog Doesn't Like Me by Elizabeth Fensham Page B

together. It’s amazing how many thoughts can zoom through your brain in a few seconds. Next thought was that we couldn’t run away because I knew I didn’t have enough money to feed Ugly. I had to think smart. Think clever. How do you do that? For one, you don’t make your grandfather any angrier.
    â€˜Sit down, Grandad,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry about the tomatoes. I’m sorry about saying nasty things about my family. I’ll clean up the mess.’
    Grandad plonked down in his chair, leant his elbows on the table, and put his head in his hands. He was still getting his breath. It came to me then that all this carry-on isn’t good for an old man. This fight could kill him. I’d be a murderer.
    â€˜Good boy,’ said Maggie. She figured out where the kettle was and started getting Grandad a cuppa while I fetched the compost bin and a rag, as well as the mop, and began the disgusting job of cleaning the floor.
    While I was working, Grandad, his head still in his hands, said quietly, ‘We’re not trying to be cruel to you, mate. It’s just that it’s all too much.’
    I didn’t trust myself to say a lot. I had to save Ugly from a terrible fate. I had to control myself. ‘Sure, Grandad. What do I have to do?’
    â€˜Over to you, Maggie,’ said Grandad.
    We all sat down at the table. I put my extra-polite, listening-carefully face on. Maggie explained that she was going to come three times a week for a few weeks to show me how to train a dog. Actually, the words she used were, ‘to train you how to teach your dog’.
    The deal is I have to keep up Ugly’s lessons before and after school, as well as on weekends. Maggie will give me a test just before she goes back to Western Australia. If I pass this test of hers, I get to keep Ugly and the two of us will go to Puppy School for a few months. She says this is run at the local vet’s.
    Of course I said ‘yes’ to everything. And I do think it’s a good thing to learn how to train your dog. I also agreed that I’m lucky to have an expert give me some lessons for free. But I really don’t agree about the ‘or else Ugly goes’ bit. That’s totally unfair.
    I didn’t say that, though. I said, ‘Thank you, Maggie, I’ll try my hardest.’
    Maggie said the first lesson would start tomorrow after school. Then she said she had to go. I was glad of that, because I was finding it hard to look cheerful.
    After Grandad and I waved Maggie goodbye, I took Ugly to the park. I sat on the swing, and Ugly sat opposite me and plonked his paw on my leg. He knew I was feeling down.
    â€˜Thank you, Ugly,’ I said. ‘I have to tell you some terrible news. They’re sending you away if I can’t train you properly. We have to stick together or we’re done for.’
    Ugly turned his head to the side, like old deaf people do when they want to use their good ear for listening carefully. That’s what Ugly does when he’s concentrating. His bright eyes looked straight at me from under his messy fringe. I know he understood because something amazing happened later.
    I was sitting up in bed, reading my latest library novel. I’d pushed the bedroom door nearly shut. I like to be private, but I also like to hear what’s going on around the house. About 8.30pm, something shoved at the door, and it moved a bit.
    Was Gretchen spying?
    No.
    The door swung open a little further and Ugly walked in. He padded up to my bed, looked at me, and then jumped right up. I put my arms around him and we snuggled down. I was almost asleep when I wondered what Mum would think about a dog on my bed? I got out, went to the family room, and brought back Ugly’s dog bed, which I put at the foot of my own bed. I gave Ugly a hug and then gently moved him off my bed and pointed to his bed. Ugly climbed on. I got back into my own bed and went to sleep. In the