Читать книгу Claude’s Christmas Adventure: The must-read Christmas dog book of 2018! - Sophie Pembroke, Sophie Pembroke - Страница 11

I scampered after the car, but being a dog of little legs, I stood about as much chance of catching it as I did of catching Perdita. Although, cars couldn’t climb fences, so maybe a slightly better chance …

Either way, by the time I got home, the car – and my family – were gone. Off to ferry, France and chateau. Leaving me behind.

Alone.

This, I decided, was simply not how things were meant to be. Ever since I was a tiny, squirming puppy, I’d always been with people. To start with, there were my litter mates, my mum, and my mum’s people. Then, soon enough, there was Daisy and Oliver and Bella, and tiny Jay in his buggy. They took me home to Maple Drive, and I knew I’d never be really alone again. Oh, maybe a couple of hours when they were all out but, to be honest, in a house with so many people the occasional hour to doze away by myself wasn’t a hardship. And most of the time, there was always someone around to scratch my ears, rub my belly, or refill my food bowl.

But not now. They’d packed up everything – even the box of interesting smells – and taken it with them. That meant they weren’t coming back, not for a while, anyway. It was just like when we went away camping (even my fluffy dog bed couldn’t keep me warm that week. Jay ended up sleeping in it with me) or when we used to visit Granny and Grandad down by the seaside. They’d meant to take me with them, I knew. But how had they not noticed I wasn’t there?

How could they have left me behind?

Me! Claude! Their beloved pet!

I hunkered down beside the bush at the end of our driveway, feeling mightily sorry for myself. I was cold and lonely and I wanted Jay. Even the twins would be welcome company right now.

Then my tummy rumbled, and I realised the situation was even more dire than I’d first thought.

I wasn’t just alone, I was hungry. And since I wasn’t meant to be there, Daisy and Oliver wouldn’t have left me any food out!

I jumped to my paws and scampered up the driveway, bouncing up the three steps to the front door. I pawed at the wood and whimpered, hoping against hope that Daisy might have forgotten to lock it again and it might swing open under my paws.

No such luck.

Maybe the back door, though … I rushed around the side of the house, but the solid wood back door wouldn’t budge either. The patio doors were locked tight too and, even if I could see an open window, I couldn’t jump high enough to get through them.

The house might as well have been a fortress, like the big wooden one Jay played with sometimes in his room. (I was usually cast as his noble, handsome steed. I wasn’t sure what a steed was, but the noble and handsome part sounded about right.)

I sat on the back step and looked out at the garden. There was the treehouse, if I could climb the ladder. I’d tried once or twice before, when Perdita had hidden up there, but hadn’t had much luck.

Wait. Perdita.

This was all her fault. I would never have left the car if she hadn’t been snooping around, trying to get into the box of interesting smells. Everything was definitely Perdita’s fault.

Which meant it was up to Perdita to put it right. Or at least get me some food.

Daisy and Oliver and the others would be back soon, I was sure. The moment they noticed I was missing they would rush back to find me. We were family, after all, and that’s what you did for family. They wouldn’t leave me alone for Christmas. They’d be back in no time, probably with extra treats to make it up to me. Like the stocking they gave me last Christmas, filled with chewy treats. Yes, of course they’d be back.

I just had to be patient. And find something to eat to keep me going in the meantime.

I padded back round to the street, shivering a little in the winter air. Times like this, I almost thought Daisy had a point when she’d bought me that tartan coat. Oliver had laughed, though, so she only got it out of the coat cupboard when he wasn’t looking.

Across the road stood number 12 – home of my furry nemesis. I’d never been there before, but I knew a little bit about it from previous encounters with Perdita. For instance, she’d bragged once that she had a special little door, around the back, through which she could come and go as she pleased. No waiting around to be let in or out when she needed to find a nice patch of dirt to take care of business. No waiting for her person to take her for a walk, or to tell her she had to stay inside.

Cats had the sort of freedom us dogs could only dream of. But I couldn’t help thinking that they missed out on the connection we had with our people. What human really wanted a pet that didn’t need them, anyway?

Usually, the fact that Perdita could come and go as she pleased, even into my garden, annoyed me. But today I was glad of Perdita’s independence. Today, I intended to turn it to my advantage, by using her little door myself. I wasn’t all that much bigger than her, and I was sure I could squeeze through if I tried. And once I made it inside …

Well, how different from dog food could cat food really be?