Читать книгу The Dachshund Who Wore Spectacles - Lora Thomas - Страница 10

A Scary Encounter with a Stick

The next morning, Puma and Frank awoke and had breakfast.

“What shall we do today Frank?” asked Puma.

“I was thinking that we should chase my birds today, Puma. They make so much noise when I chase them,” said Frank with his mouth half full of food.

“That’s a fine idea, Frank. Let’s go catch us some birds.”

Frank and Puma whined at the door. That was the only way they could communicate the point that they wanted out. It seemed when they whined, people would open the doors. It worked the same way as the doorbell. Odd, thought Frank.

Out the oddly matched dogs ran, Frank on his short, stubby legs and Puma on his long and slender ones. Both dogs could run fast. Puma would chase the birds in the grass, and Frank would chase them from the bushes.

“We make quite a good team,” declared Frank.

“Yes, we do, Frank.” Puma smiled. “I think we can be best friends.”

“Me too,” smiled Frank. “Me too.”

The two dogs ran after the birds for an hour. Tired, they lay down in the shade of a tree. They both sat looking out toward the lake.

“I’m having such a nice time at the lake,” said Puma. “I really hate to leave tomorrow.”

“I hate to leave too, Puma. Why don’t we go swimming now?” answered Frank

Down the trail they ran. Puma was leading the way down. Suddenly he heard a loud yipe from Frank. Puma’s blood ran cold. He didn’t want to turn around, afraid of what he might find.

Puma did turn around. It was worse than he thought. For there lying in the trail was his new best friend; a stick stuck into his chest.

“Puma,” Frank said through glazed eyes, “I don’t think I’m going to live.”

“Oh, Frankie.” Puma used his calmest voice. “I will go get my people and Spencer. You lay right there. You will be fine. I know it.”

Puma ran as fast as he could up the trail. Fear was making his heart beat faster than the running did. He could not lose his best friend, not now, not on his watch. Puma had grown fond of Frank in the short amount of time he had known him. He had also grown protective of Frank, for after all, Frank was very short and tiny compared to Puma. (Also Frank couldn’t see very well without his glasses.) Puma must hurry.

“Everybody help!” barked Puma. “Frank is hurt. I think he’s dying. Help, help!”

Tyler came running out of the house with Kinga. “Puma, stop your barking,” Tyler sternly warned Puma.

I forgot. They cannot understand me, thought Puma. I will have to take drastic measures.

With that, Puma ran up to Tyler and put his mouth around Tyler’s wrist. He clamped down gently but firmly and started pulling him toward the trail.

“Puma is acting very strange. I think something must be wrong,” said Tyler as he was following Puma’s lead.

Shortly Tyler saw what the problem was. “Kinga, get a blanket. Frank has been hurt.”

Tyler knelt next to Frank. He could see that the stick had punctured Frank’s chest indeed but had not gone in very far. It was merely a superficial wound. Frank would be fine. He touched Frank. Frank lay limp. His glasses lay askew across his face. Frank had fainted.

When Spencer arrived, Tyler sent him down to retrieve some water from the lake. “Splash some on Frank’s face. That should revive him,” directed Tyler.

Sure enough, Spencer splashed some water on Frank’s face. Frank sputtered awake. “Am I in heaven?” said Frank dreamily. “Where am I?”

“Oh, Frankie, you gave us quite a scare,” said Kinga as she wrapped Frank in a blanket and carried him up the trail. “You are going to be just fine after we bandage you up. That’s what happens when you are so low to the ground.”

What did she mean by that? In Frank’s mind, he was a tall dog.