Izzy's River (4 page)

“Don’t eat that!” Poppy scolded, seeing him snap
his teeth shut millimetres away from a fat bumblebee. “It’s not food! Remember last time? You were swollen up for days, dim dog.”

Billy laid his ears back and looked ashamed of himself, but it only lasted a second before he was whiffling through the grasses again, his tail swishing back and forth in an excited blur.

“I don’t see how you could get a boat down here.” Izzy went closer to the water. “It’s so full of stuff. You’d catch it all underneath.”

“I don’t think many narrowboats try and come down this bit,” Poppy said. “This is like an extra little loop, you don’t have to use it to get along the river towards the town centre.” Then she jerked forward as Billy yanked on his lead. “Oi, Billy, stop it!”

But Billy was too excited to stop. He raced on, pulling Poppy after him.

“He’s chasing something,” Izzy said anxiously, trying to grab the lead and help Poppy pull, but the lead part was a thin cord, and it just ran through her fingers. “Ugh! It’s a rat!”

“A water rat,” Poppy panted grimly. “Billy! Stop! Ow!” She fell forwards, tripping over an old bag that someone had abandoned, and let go of the lead. “Oh no! Billy!”

The big golden dog shot off down the river path, his lead bouncing behind him, chasing something small and brown and furry.

Unfortunately, the small brown furry thing was a water rat – or at least it was a rat that could swim, because it jumped straight into the water, and Billy jumped after it.

Billy floundered about in the water, looking very surprised at himself – clearly he hadn’t really meant to jump in, he’d just followed the rat. Luckily it didn’t look to be too deep, and Billy seemed to have a natural doggy-paddle.

“You idiot dog!” Poppy muttered, crouching down by the bank. “Come here! Come on! He’s going to be a nightmare to haul out, he’s so heavy.”

“Is there anything we can use to help?” Izzy looked around. “Something he could scramble on to?” There was so much junk, there had to be something.

“Oh no, Billy, stop, not that way!” Poppy wailed, and there was a hurt whimper from the water.

“What happened?” Izzy gasped. “Did something bite him?”

Poppy shook her head. “It’s a bike – I didn’t see it under the water, and I called him – now I think his paw’s stuck in it.”

Billy was whimpering and struggling, trying to pull his leg free, and getting panicky.

Izzy felt panicky too, and he wasn’t even her dog, but Poppy lay down on the bank and stretched her arms out to him. “Shhh, shhh,” she whispered, in a soothing whisper. “Keep still, baby, we’ll get it out. Ow,” she added, back in her normal voice.

“Tell me what to do,” Izzy whispered, crouching next to her. “Can I lift the bike up, or anything?”

“Yes, lift that bit. And I’ll pull Billy – if he’s hurt he might not want anyone he doesn’t know touching him. Pull! Now!”

Izzy yanked at the twisted bike wheel, and Poppy heaved on Billy’s collar, and he half jumped, half fell out of the water, right on top of them both.

“Owwww,” Izzy moaned. “He weighs a ton. Is he OK?”

Poppy wriggled. “Oooh, Billy, get off. Let’s see your paw. Good boy. What a good dog.”

Billy limped his way off them, and sat down, holding up his hurt paw, and looking miserable. “Poor baby,” Poppy murmured, using that quiet whisper again. “It’s not cut or anything. Perhaps he just banged it. Oh, Billy, you are a monster,” she said, giving him a big hug. “I’m really sorry, Izzy. I wish
this hadn’t happened when you were with us.”

“I don’t! If you’d been on your own, you might not have been able to get him out,” Izzy said worriedly.

“No more loose lead along here,” Poppy sighed. “It wouldn’t have been so dangerous if it weren’t for those stupid people who dumped the bike.”

Billy put his paw to the ground, and stared at it anxiously, as though he wasn’t sure it was still working, but when he tried to walk he was hardly limping at all.

“He looks OK,” said Izzy hopefully. “Just wet. And a bit muddy.”

“Yeah, I think he was lucky.” Poppy shivered. “Let’s get home.” She looked Izzy up and down, and then glanced at her own school uniform. “I think he wiped the mud off on us. You look
awful
!”

“So do you!” Izzy sighed, holding out the skirt of her summer dress – all muddy and torn.

“I can lend you something.” Poppy gave her a hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain to your dad.”

“What happened?” Poppy’s mum shrieked, as they let themselves in. They’d been hoping to sneak upstairs quietly, and say that Izzy just fancied getting out of her uniform, but unfortunately Poppy’s mum
had been coming down the stairs as they came in.

“Billy fell in the river,” Poppy admitted.

“He was chasing a rat – it wasn’t Poppy’s fault,” Izzy added quickly.

“Are you all right?” Poppy’s mum shot down the stairs. “Did you fall in too? Are you hurt?”

“Just wet. Billy splashed all over us,” Poppy explained.

“That dog!” Poppy’s mum glared at him.

“He got stuck in an old bike someone had thrown in,” Izzy told her, hoping to make her less cross with him.

“Oh dear, it’s such a mess down there. You’ll have to stop walking him by the river, Poppy. Ugh, look at him, he’s covered in mud.”

“Shall we put him in the bath?” Poppy suggested. “And please don’t say we can’t go down there, Mum, it’s his favourite walk.”

“It could have been his last walk, if you couldn’t get him out,” her mum snapped. “Yes, you’d better bath him. And then you two can have showers. I’ll go and make you some hot chocolate. Do you like chocolate, Izzy?”

“Please.” Izzy nodded. Even though it was June, she still felt cold and muddy and horrible. Hot chocolate
and a shower sounded excellent.

“OK. Once we get close to the bathroom, I’ll pull, you push,” Poppy instructed, running up the stairs and leaving Izzy staring after her. “Billy! Come on, boy!”

Billy bounded up the stairs – his paw had had a miraculous recovery on the way home. He’d been able to bark himself silly at a fat black cat, and it seemed to have cheered him up no end.

“Shut the door!” Poppy shrieked, as Izzy hurried after her. “He’s going to notice where he is in a minute, shut the door!”

Izzy slammed the bathroom door shut just as Billy clocked the bath, and tried to exit his collar backwards. He stood in the corner of the bathroom staring reproachfully at Poppy and Izzy.

“Your fault for going ratting in a river,” Poppy said sternly. “We have to get the mud off you, or Mum’ll have you living in the garden. It’s
Top Gear
tonight, Billy, you want to be allowed on the sofa.”

“He likes
Top Gear
?” Izzy laughed.

“Yup. His favourite programme. He even knows the music, he rushes in when he hears it’s on.”

“How are we going to get him in the bath?” Izzy asked doubtfully, as Poppy began to run the water.
“And what’s that you’re putting in the water?”

Poppy was adding drips of something from a little bottle. “Lavender oil. To calm him down a bit. And it smells nice,” she added sensibly. “He stinks of river. You can’t put bubble bath in, it isn’t good for dogs’ skin. We could probably use Mum’s expensive organic stuff, but she’d recognise the smell on him, and then she’d kill me. And we get him in by picking him up and putting him in, of course.”

Izzy looked at Billy, backed stubbornly into the corner of the bathroom. Then she looked at herself and Poppy. Billy was huge. And heavy. “Umm…”

“He isn’t really that heavy,” Poppy assured her.

“But will he let us pick him up?”

“He’ll wriggle like mad, but we can do it. Then once he’s in, one of us just has to hold on to his collar, and he’ll stay still while we wash the mud off. OK. That should be enough. He doesn’t like too much water round his legs.” She giggled. “So who knows why he decided to jump into a river. Stupid dog.”

Billy saw Poppy approaching, with a meaningful look in her eyes, and moaned. Izzy had never realised dogs could moan, but that was definitely what it was.

“You’re filthy,” Poppy told him sternly. “We have to get the mud off. Right, Izzy, I’ve got the front,
you’ve got the back – that’s the lighter end,” she added encouragingly.

Izzy thought it was more important that it was the end without the teeth, but she didn’t say so. Even though Bull Terriers had a fierce reputation, Billy seemed quite friendly and gentle. But that was before they’d tried to heave him into a bath.

The bathroom door opened suddenly, and Poppy shrieked as Billy attempted to make a quick getaway.

“Alex, stop him!”

Billy was attempting to shoot between the legs of one of Poppy’s twin older brothers. But Alex squashed his knees together, so he was almost riding Billy, and grabbed his collar.

Izzy laughed. “You look like you’re in a rodeo,” she said shyly, as Alex stared at her.

He snorted. “Oh. Yeah, Billy would make a good bucking bronco. Aww, Poppy, he’s covered in mud, it’s all over my trousers now.”

“Durr,” Poppy said unsympathetically. “That’s why we’re trying to bath him, idiot.”

“You two’ll never get him in there,” Alex said. And he grabbed Billy round the chest, groaning with the effort, and dumped him in the bath so quickly that Billy didn’t have time to realise what was going on.
Even though there was hardly any water, a tidal wave still splashed over the edge of the bath.

Billy’s claws scrabbled frantically, and he howled, and tried to jump out, but Alex had hold of his collar. “Hurry up then! Wash him! I’m getting soaked here,” he growled to Poppy.

“Thanks, Alex!” Poppy started rubbing the mud off Billy’s legs, and Izzy tried to swoosh water over his back, while Billy moaned miserably. The smell of wet dog rapidly overpowered the lavender oil.

“I think he’s clean,” Poppy said at last. “Or at least the water’s so dirty there’s no point washing him any more.”

“Do we have to lift him out now?” Izzy asked, looking anxiously at Alex. He was going to get even wetter, heaving a soaking wet dog out of the bath.

Alex laughed. “Nope.” He let go off Billy’s collar, and stood back, pulling Izzy with him.

Billy took about two seconds to realise he no longer had to be in the bath, and launched himself out with an expression of great joy on his face. Water slopped everywhere, and as soon as he hit the bath mat, he shook himself madly, spraying more all over the place.

“Now you see why there was no point changing
first,” Poppy pointed out, holding her arm across her face. “Have you stopped yet, Billy?” She smothered him in an old towel that she’d pulled out of the bottom of the airing cupboard. “Mum keeps the worst towels just for him.”

They rubbed him dry all over and eventually a spotless and offended-looking dog burst out of the bathroom, and hurtled down the stairs.

“He’s going to hide in his basket,” Poppy explained. “Look, I’ve rinsed the mud out of the bath now, you have a quick shower. I’ll just go and find you some stuff to borrow.”

“Thanks.” Izzy eyed her school dress and cardigan – they were even wetter now.

Ten minutes or so later, she headed downstairs, still damp, but much warmer, and wearing Poppy’s jeans and a cute purple T-shirt.

Poppy’s mum pushed a mug of hot chocolate towards her.

“Thanks. Poppy is just having her shower. Alex might want some chocolate too, Billy got him really wet.”

Billy heard his name, and glared suspiciously over the edge of his basket.

The door opened, and another teenage boy
clumped into the kitchen. Poppy’s mum sighed. “Between you lot and the dog, I’m going to be spending the weekend cleaning mud out of this house. It’s all very well taking your boots off, but look at your socks, Jake!”

“Sorry, the field was a bit muddy,” he admitted.

Izzy stared at him over her mug. If Poppy’s mum hadn’t called him Jake, she would have been sure he was Alex, somehow muddied up. They looked exactly the same.

“This is Poppy’s friend, Izzy,” Poppy’s mum added. “Billy jumped in the river, you’ll have to queue for a shower after your sister.”

“Is he OK?” Jake peered at Billy, who was huddled up in his basket, as if he didn’t want anyone to notice him.

“I think he’s sulking because he had to have a bath,” Izzy said, feeling quite amazed at herself. She hardly ever spoke to people she didn’t know. But there was something about this mad, muddy house that made her feel less shy than usual.

Jake nodded. “He would be. He hates baths. See you later, Izzy.”

“Usually, he’d take off all his football stuff and just stuff it in the machine,” Poppy’s mum whispered to
Izzy as Jake went upstairs. “He’s being polite because you’re here.”

Izzy giggled, and tried not to spit chocolate everywhere.

“Shall we go and watch a film?” Poppy arrived, and grabbed her chocolate. “Thanks, Mum.”

“You won’t have time for a film, dinner won’t be long,” her mum pointed out.

“Mmm, washing Billy took ages. OK. We’ll just put the TV on.”

They curled up on the sofa happily, and Izzy thought how nice it was not to feel guilty about watching a stupid girly soap. Sometimes it was what she felt like, but she knew Dad hated them, so she hardly ever put them on.