Читать книгу The Dog Who Saved the World - Ross Welford - Страница 10

It wasn’t Mr Mash’s ‘wind problem’ that was the issue.

I for one would have put up with that. Although sometimes the smell could make your eyes water, it was never for long. No: it was Jessica, one hundred per cent.

It started with a cough, then wheezing, then a rash on her hands. Jessica, it turned out, was completely allergic.

‘Didn’t you know?’ I wailed, and she shook her head. Believe it or not, she had simply never been in close enough contact with dogs for long enough to discover that she was hypersensitive to their fur, or their saliva, or something. Or maybe it developed when she was an adult. I don’t think she was making it up: she’s not that bad.

OK, I did – occasionally – think that. But after Jessica had an asthma attack that left her exhausted, and her hair all sweaty, we knew that Mr Mash would have to go back.

It’s probably unusual to have the best day and the worst day of your life within a month, especially since I was still only ten at the time.

I cried for a week, and Jessica kept saying she was sorry and trying to hug me with her bony arms, but I was furious. I still am, sometimes.

Mr Mash went back to St Woof’s. And the only good thing is that he is still there. The vicar says I can see him whenever I like.

I became a St Woof’s volunteer. I’m way too young officially, but Dad says he persuaded the vicar to ‘bend the rules’.

Actually, it wasn’t the only good thing. The other good thing was that there were loads of dogs at St Woof’s, and I liked them all.

But I loved Mr Mash the best, and it was because of him that – fifteen months later – Ramzy and I ended up meeting Dr Pretorius.