Gail grabbed her coat and one of the balls from the grass, throwing it across the garden before she put her coat on.
‘Thing is, Percy,’ Gail said, as she picked up the ball I dropped on the ground in front of her, ‘I know I’m a bit like a bear with a sore head at the minute. But Jenny hasn’t had to stay overnight in hospital for such a long time, and I’m worried about it.’
‘That’s understandable,’ I barked.
From the conversations I’d heard between Gail and Simon, and sometimes Jenny, too, I knew the procedure was not as serious as I had feared. The doctors just wanted to monitor her with a special heart machine for twenty-four hours to check how things were going. Yet Gail seemed to be taking this hard, and aside from the obvious, I was unsure why.
Gail threw the ball across the grass for me again. ‘I don’t know what it is that’s upsetting me about all this to be honest, Perce.’
As she watched the ball fly through the air, she sank her full weight onto the wooden bench behind her and shielded her eyes from the early afternoon sunshine. With great restraint, I ignored the ball, hopped up onto the bench with a bit of help from Gail and settled quietly beside her. It was obvious to me why she was so upset. Jenny was her daughter, it was only natural she would be worried.
‘I suppose I just feel like Jenny’s getting worse, not better,’ Gail continued. ‘She’s so pale and tired all the time and sometimes passes out with sheer exhaustion. Worst of all, the doctors can’t seem to find the right medicines for her. I’ve lost count of all the ones we’ve tried. I suppose I’m worried what this means and what’s next for us.’
Looking up at her, I saw the fear written across her face. I resolved to make an extra special effort to find some way of cheering her up.
As the sunshine disappeared behind the clouds, we went back inside. Gail made a start on the dinner and, when Jenny woke, the two carried on with more maths at the kitchen table, much to Jenny’s disgust. I tried to spur her on, by giving her a woof of appreciation each time she got an algebra sum right. But although she appreciated my efforts, I could tell she’d had more than enough.
‘Seriously, Mum, can’t we call it a day? It’s almost six, we never work this late at school,’ Jenny reasoned.
Gail sighed. ‘I do know that, love. But I don’t want you getting behind. Once we get this heart condition of yours sorted, you’ll have a bright future ahead of you and I want you to have a proper education.’
‘But we both know maths isn’t my strong suit, Mum,’ Jenny protested. ‘Look, even Percy knows I’m never going to be a maths professor or an astronaut or anything like that. He always gives me way more encouragement when we’re doing sums than when we’re doing anything else.’
I looked out of the window, not saying a word. This was not a row I wanted to be drawn into, but Gail surprised me and her daughter.
‘Fair enough, love,’ she said, pushing the textbooks to one side. ‘Let’s leave it there for today. Why don’t you go and watch telly, your dad will be home any minute.’
Jenny’s face instantly brightened as she got down from the kitchen chair. ‘Nice once, Mum! Thanks. You coming, Percy?’
Panic rose. A cuddle on the sofa with Jenny while watching The Simpsons sounded like heaven. But, on the other hand, I knew Heather would be barking for me any minute and I didn’t want to be late.
Right on cue, I heard the sound of Heather’s dulcet tones just as Simon walked through the door.
‘Evening all,’ he said, as he shucked off his coat.
‘Hi, love,’ Gail replied, as she walked towards him and kissed his cheek. ‘Let’s try and forget last night, shall we?’
‘Sounds good to me.’
As the two leaned in to one another and hugged, I seized my chance, walked back into the kitchen and slipped through the cat flap. By no means was I a fat dog, but the flap was a tight squeeze and I was terrified at one point I was going to end up like poor Barney at the shelter. Thankfully, my paws bounced onto the concrete floor. After wriggling my hind legs out to meet my front, I wasted no time racing up the path and out into the cold night air.
I had never been out alone before and the pitch black left me terrified. Reaching the top of the road where Peg lived, I felt a surge of relief to see she was already waiting for me. Together we scampered up the road towards Heather’s woofs, reaching her side within minutes.
‘Hello, you two,’ she barked in welcome. ‘Jake’s gone on ahead to see Bugsy and check he’s ready for us. Are you two okay to go now, or do you need a couple of minutes to get your breath back?’
I looked at Peg. Like me, she was wheezing, but determined.
‘We’re fine,’ I barked in reply. ‘Let’s do this.’
‘Okay then, Percy,’ Heather woofed.
The German shepherd had a dogged steady pace as she set off before us, and Peg and I struggled to keep up as we ran through the streets, our shorter legs doing us a disservice. I tried hard to catch my breath as I glanced at a slightly younger Peg who seemed to have a lot more puff. How was she doing it? Thankfully, I didn’t have to wonder for too long as Heather abruptly came to a halt outside a modest two-up, two-down terrace.
‘Here we are then, loves. Jake said he’d be around the back waiting for us if he wasn’t out the front so go quietly okay. We don’t want to wake the baby,’ Heather barked quietly.
‘There’s no chance of that,’ I woofed. Jasper’s screams were already ringing through the house and out to the street below.
As we followed Heather down the dark passageway behind the house, we soon saw the Border collie sitting excitedly next to Jake.
‘Can you hear him? It’s like that every night! Please say you can fix this, Heather,’ Bugsy woofed, looking at each of us in turn for reassurance.
‘We’ll do our best, Bugsy,’ Heather barked. ‘Now, everyone knows “Baa Baa Black Sheep”, don’t they?’
We all nodded as Jake led us further down the alleyway towards a large bush opposite an open window.
‘That’s the baby’s room,’ Jake barked once we were hidden behind the shrubbery. ‘Now then, dogs, let’s keep our tones gentle and keep in time. On my count: one, two, three.’
With that, the five of us started to bark out the tune of the well-known lullaby. Only, despite our best efforts, we sounded more like birds being choked to death than the Welsh Dog Voice Choir to which Jake had once famously belonged. Not only were we out of tune, we were out of time, and it wasn’t long before Jasper’s cries became full-blown shrieks.
Quickly, Jake interrupted with a furious bark. ‘What on earth do you call that? We’re dogs, not cats scrapping down an alleyway, screeching to all and sundry that this is our territory. Now let’s try again.’
Suitably reprimanded, we shot awkward glances at one another before Jake opened his jaws wide and began barking the sweetest rendition of the lullaby once more. His barks were beautiful and, feeling encouraged, the rest of us opened our mouths, sure we could do better this time. However, within
