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To our good friends Deb and Tim
and all the Martins.
AM
For our dogs, Millie and Sandy.
SH
First published in Great Britain 2018
by Egmont UK Limited
The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN
Text copyright © 2018 Alan MacDonald
Illustrations copyright © 2018 Sarah Horne
The moral rights of the author and illustrators have been asserted
First e-book edition 2018
ISBN 978 1 4052 8723 4
Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1796 0
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER 4: Home Sweet Bone
CHAPTER 5: Follow That Van!
CHAPTER 6: In the Soup
CHAPTER 7: Nosing Around
CHAPTER 8: Ghost Dog
CHAPTER 9: Early Closing
CHAPTER 10: A Grand Day for a Run
CHAPTER 11: Dog’s Dinner
It was Saturday morning in the Shilling house and a delicious smell was drifting upstairs from the kitchen. Sam was in his room getting dressed. Downstairs his dad was cooking sausages. His mum sat at the kitchen table while Oscar sat on the floor because dogs generally didn’t bother with chairs. Sausages, however, were his number-one favourite and his tail was beating the floor impatiently while he waited for them to cook. Dad slotted four pieces of bread into the Hercules Speedy Pop-up Toaster (one of his many inventions) and went back to turning the sausages.
‘Have you noticed you can’t get a decent cup of coffee round here?’ he said.
‘Mmm?’ said Mum.
‘Or tea or hot chocolate for that matter,’ Dad went on. ‘There’s nowhere to buy it – not without walking all the way into town.’
‘There’s a drinks machine at the garage,’ Mum pointed out.
Dad snorted. ‘Have you actually tried their coffee?’ he asked. ‘I wouldn’t give it to a dog!’
Oscar looked up and frowned. He sniffed the air and his tail ceased drumming for a moment. The Hercules Speedy Pop-up Toaster was taking its own sweet time. Stranger still, it was giving off a funny smell – a bit like burning toast. Oscar barked to get everyone’s attention.
‘Quiet, Oscar!’ cried Mr Shilling. ‘There’s nowhere on the seafront at all,’ he said, returning to his subject. ‘Don’t you think that’s odd?’
Oscar stared. Smoke was now rising from the toaster. It seemed impossible to miss, though everyone else was missing it. He decided he’d have to do something before things got out of hand. Trotting over to Mr Shilling he jumped up and pawed at the back of his legs.
‘OSCAR!’ cried Dad, turning round. ‘What’s the matter with him today?’
‘He’s probably hungry,’ replied Mum. ‘He can smell sausages.’
Oscar felt like howling. The toaster! he wanted to shout. For dog’s sake – LOOK!
Mum poured milk into her cereal bowl.
‘What’s that funny smell?’ she frowned. ‘Can you smell it?’
Finally thought Oscar. He looked at Mrs Shilling then back at the toaster. No response. This was getting ridiculous. He lay down on the floor with his paws over his head as if preparing for an explosion.
Dad stared at him. ‘Is he sick or something?’
Sam walked into the kitchen, still pulling on his sweatshirt.
Oscar
