Pokrewne

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Chelsea Handler Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang (epub
Brit Brinson [Dia of the Dead Dia of the Dead (epub)
Cody Goodfellow [Radiant Dawn Radiant Dawn (epub)
Cate Tiernan [Immortal Belove Immortal Beloved (epub)
C J Busby [Deep Amber 01] Deep Amber (retail) (epub)
Carl Ashmore [Time Hunters 01 The Time Hunters (epub)
Drew Hayes [Super Powereds 02 Super Powereds Year 2 (epub) i
Beth Harbison [Shoe Addict 02 Secrets of a Shoe Addict (epub)
Cara Lynn Shultz [Dark World The Dark World (retail) (epub)
Boxing Clever LaSalle, Gin

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.He had gone down the Dock way, and it was as he walked by the Dock wall that he saw the dog limping along the gutter.There was something wrong with one of its front paws, also one of its eyes looked blurred.He bent over it, and without hesitation, because he was quite unafraid of dogs, he put his hand on its head and spoke to it.The dog had started, in an odd kind of way, as if to avoid a blow.Then it had turned its head right around and looked up at Matty; and when he touched its leg it yelped but made no attempt to snap at him.The dog was without a collar, and Matty knew this could mean one of many things.Perhaps it was old, or had become a nuisance, and the people had thrown it out, or perhaps they wouldn’t pay the licence, or couldn’t feed it; or likely they just didn’t want to be bothered with it when it was hurt.There were people like that.This wasn’t the first time that Matty had handled stray dogs, but it was the first time that he had felt as angry about one, and that peculiar painful emotion, that as yet he could not define as compassion, had swamped him as he looked on this dog that was both lame and half-blind.On this occasion Matty knew he had to do something.But what? If he took the dog home he knew what the result would be; he had tried that before.Yet he couldn’t leave the poor beast here; anything could happen to it.If a gang of roughnecks got hold of it, it would be sport for them.It was this last thought that made him decide to chance taking the dog home.He would hide it in the shed, and tomorrow, being Saturday, he would take it to the PDSA and have it put to sleep.He did not think of taking it to the police station.If the police took in all the stray dogs in the town there would be no room in the lock-up for anyone else, he knew that.So it was on this night of Matty’s decision to befriend a stray dog that the course of his life was set.‘Come on,’ Matty had said to the dog.But the animal had no need to be bidden to follow its new owner, for he, too, had made a decision; he liked the feel of the hand that had stroked him; moreover, he liked the smell of this boy.He would go wherever he went.Matty and his newly acquired friend duly arrived home.But his hope of hiding the dog in the shed at the bottom of the yard proved fruitless, for after leaving the animal with a warning to be quiet, he had hardly got through the kitchen door before a high-pitched wail followed him.Matty’s memory did not dwell on the tussle that followed against the combined force of his mother and father.Solely because of the fact that the dog was to be there for one night only, before being taken to its peaceful end on the following day, did they allow it to be kept in the shed.Of course there are always two sides to everything, and Mrs Doolin had grounds for her opposition towards the dog, for over the past years she had found many strange animals, not only in the shed, but kept under her son’s bed.Mr Doolin, on the other hand, was opposed to keeping animals on the principle that you shouldn’t keep an animal unless you had room for it.But it was Mr Doolin who gave the dog its name.Because of its infirmities he had immediately named it Nelson, and he seemed amused by his choice.Matty, taking advantage of his father’s attitude, forgot to take Nelson to the PDSA the following day, although his mother threatened what his father would do to him when he got in.The day being Saturday, his father was slightly mellow when he came in from work; also it being Saturday, the one day in the week he had a bet on, his mellowness did not evaporate after the last race when his horse won.These were the small events that reprieved Nelson, at least temporarily.All might have gone smoothly if Nelson had been content to stay in the shed all day, but Nelson, after tasting the warmth and comfort of the kitchen, and the smells and titbits forthcoming there, found the shed, in spite of the packing case and old blankets, a very dreary place; and being a really intelligent animal, he discovered how he could bring about his release almost instantaneously.He had only to sit back on his haunches, lift his head and let rip a great howl from the elongated depths of him.But what Nelson didn’t understand, and what Matty tried to impress upon him, was that his howling would bring about the end of him.It was as Matty now approached his street that the faint, but unmistakable eerie wail halted his step, and that of Joe.The boys looked at each other for a moment; then simultaneously they dashed up the back lane.As Matty neared his own back door the intermittent wailing became louder, and when he burst into the backyard it caused his face to screw up in protest.But when his hand touched the latch of the shed the wailing stopped; and there to greet him when he opened the door was Nelson.Nelson was undoubtedly an old dog.He was also, unmistakably, a mongrel, as his parents had obviously been.He was neither labrador, collie, spaniel, nor bull terrier, but a little of each.But Matty’s attention to him, coupled with good feeding over the past few weeks and his own overwhelming love for this new master whose touch was soft, had brought back to him what seemed like a second childhood.‘Stop it, man.Stop it.’ Matty tried to stop the dog jumping all over him at once.‘You’ll get me hung, both of us hung, for I’ve told you, haven’t I, it’ll be the end of you.’ He got down on his hunkers and let the dog wash his face; and Joe, also on his hunkers now, remarked as he watched Nelson’s antics, ‘He goes daft when he sees you, doesn’t he? Are you going to take him indoors now?’Slowly Matty pulled himself upright, then turned and looked up the yard towards the kitchen window.His mother, he realised, hadn’t come to the door threatening what was going to happen to Nelson, or telling him the neighbours had all been complaining.‘Come on,’ he said quietly, and together the two boys, with the dog bounding round them, went up the narrow yard and into the kitchen.At least, they got as far as the scullery door which led into the kitchen, for from there Matty saw his mother.Mrs Doolin was standing to the side of the kitchen table in a waiting position, her arms folded across her waist.Matty stared at her in amazement for a moment.Then, his eyes moving from her stiff face, he was amazed no longer at her expression, for there, arrayed on the table in a straight line, were the remains of his father’s slippers.They had been very old slippers to begin with, but now they were hardly recognisable.Next to them was a shredded tea towel; and next to the tea towel was a smaller mass of chewed paper.It was a browny colour.And next to this was his mother’s felt hat.The hat was intact except for a piece of the brim.‘Well!’Matty looked back at his mother.He stared at her for some time before gasping, ‘Oh lor!’‘You can say that again.’ Now his mother’s quiet demeanour vanished and, turning to the table, she picked up one article after the other, crying, ‘Look at this lot.Look at them! Your dad’s slippers.You’re in for something there.And a good tea towel.But this is worse.’ She picked up the small brown, pulpy mass.‘His coupons, his football coupons that were going off this morning.And look at my hat.Well!’ She wagged her head in wide movements.‘He’s done for himself this time [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]