Selby Santa (3 page)

‘How much do you want for your handsome dog?’ the man asked Mrs Trifle.

‘Handsome dog?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You don’t mean Selby, do you, Dr Schnipskin?’

‘Yes, I do. Is he a special breed?’

‘No, he’s just a bitser — a bit of this and a bit of that.’

‘He is, quite frankly, the handsomest dog I’ve ever seen.’

‘Hey, I like this guy,’ Selby thought. ‘He knows a quality dog when he sees one.’

‘He should be the beginning of a dog breed all of his own,’ Dr Schnipskin said.

‘What do you mean?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

‘Think of it this way, there are poodles and cocker spaniels and collies, and now there could be Selbys.
I have a company called the New Breed Institute and I’ve been looking for the perfect dog to start off a whole new breed. Selby could be the beginning. I can hear them now:
Mummy, Mummy, can I have a Selby for Christmas
and,
Darling, please don’t waste your money on a diamond engagement ring. I’d rather have a Selby.
People would be lining up at petshops all around the world to buy a Selby.’

‘Are you telling me that you want to breed Selby?’

‘Breed?’ Selby thought. ‘Hold the show! I don’t like the sound of this.’

‘Oh, no,’ Dr Schnipskin said. ‘If you breed animals, they come out looking a little bit like the mother and a little bit like the father. I want dogs that look exactly like Selby, every one of them. The only way to do that is to clone him.’

‘Clone me?’ Selby thought.

‘Clone him?’ Mrs Trifle asked. ‘You mean take a tiny piece of him and then grow it in a laboratory?’

‘Well, yes. We haven’t actually cloned anything yet, so we might need to take a few pieces till we work it out.’

‘
Gulp
— a few pieces of me?’ Selby thought.

‘They’d be very small pieces, Mrs Trifle. I’d take him to our laboratory in the city. There would be quite a lot of him left over by the time I got the cloning right. I’d bring back the rest of him, of course.’

‘Quite a lot of me left over?!
Sheeeesh
!’ Selby squealed in his brain. ‘I want
all
of me to be left over!’

‘I’m terribly sorry, Dr Schnipskin,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I’m afraid I can’t allow it. I want him to stay exactly the way he is.’

‘But I’d be prepared to pay you a lot of money.’

‘I’m sorry but I’m not interested.’

‘Well, that’s unfortunate,’ the man said. ‘I’ve been searching the world for the perfect dog
and Selby seems just right. He’s such a handsome hunk of dog, so strong, so muscular, so fit. I’m a bit of a body-builder myself and I know a champion when I see one. Oh well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs Trifle.’

‘It was a pleasure meeting you, too, Dr Schnipskin. Goodbye. I guess we’ll probably never meet again.’

‘I hope not,’ Selby thought as the man drove away. ‘I never want to see that guy again.’

Selby, a handsome hunk of dog? Is that what you’re thinking? Selby, strong, muscular and fit? A champion? Is this the same Selby from the Selby books? The answer is yes. Selby was no longer the not-too-big-and-not-too-small somewhat-overweight dog that he’d been for years. How he changed himself into a handsome hunk is a story in itself.

It all started one day when Selby was out for his morning walk. It was the usual walk. He passed girl dogs and boy dogs and they all completely ignored him. A woman who wasn’t watching where she was walking even tripped over him.

‘Nobody notices me any more,’ he thought. ‘I’m invisible. They’d notice me if I was one of those poncy pedigree pooches — all clipped and scrubbed and brushed. But I’m not like that. I’m just a normal slightly-out-of-shape dog. Okay, so maybe I’m a lot out of shape.’

Suddenly, Selby stopped in his tracks as something caught his eye. It was a new shop called Samantha’s Trim & Taut Fitness Centre. The sign above the window said:

GET
F
IT AND STAY
F
IT!

LOSE WEIGHT
F
AST!

FL
ING THAT
F
LAB IN SAM’S
F
ITNESS
L
AB!

Selby could see a woman inside, jogging on a running machine.

‘I wish I was human,’ Selby sighed. ‘If I was, I’d go in and get super-fit like her. Then no one would ignore me any more.’

Selby was standing in the doorway when the woman stopped running and came over to him. She gave him a pat as she looked at his name-tag.

‘Selby, is it? I’m Samantha,’ she said. ‘Well, Selby, you’re the first person to come in here
today, only you’re not a person. What is wrong with these Bogusville people? Why won’t they come here?’

‘Poor Sam,’ Selby thought. ‘She doesn’t know that Bogusville people just aren’t going-to-the-gym people.’

‘I never should have opened my business here,’ Samantha went on. ‘All this exercise equipment cost me a fortune and no one wants to use it.’

‘The other thing Sam should know about Bogusville people,’ Selby thought, ‘is that they hate trying new things. They always wait for someone else to try them first.’

‘What is it with these people, Selby?’ Samantha said. ‘It’s as if they’re scared to be the first to try new things.’

‘You’ve got it,’ Selby thought. ‘Poor Sam — I think I see tears in her eyes. She seems like a lovely person but she’s in the wrong town at the wrong time. Maybe I can cheer her up.’

Selby noticed that the running machine was still going. So, without a further thought, he jumped onto it and started running.

‘Hey, Selby!’ Samantha cried. ‘What are you doing?! Hey, that’s really funny!’

‘It’s not (
gasp
) funny for me,’ Selby thought. ‘It’s tiring! How do people (
gasp
) do this?’

Selby struggled to catch his breath.

‘I am so (
gasp
) out of shape. I’d better stop before I drop.’

Selby hopped off the machine. Samantha was wiping the tears from her eyes but now they were tears of laughter.

‘Oh, Selby, I haven’t had such a good laugh for ages. You should have kept going, old boy.’

As Selby headed out the door, he heard Samantha calling out.

‘Come back any time, Selby! It’s great to have company!’

And so it was that day after day Selby went back to Samantha’s Trim & Taut Fitness Centre. And every day she turned on the running machine for him and he ran a bit longer than the day before. And when she wasn’t watching, Selby lifted weights, pushed on pushing machines and pulled at pulling machines. And the more he did it, the easier it got. Then one day he realised something.

‘I’m actually getting fit!’ he thought. ‘I feel good. Maybe I should be more careful about
what I eat. No more junk food and no more snacks.’

At home that night, Dr and Mrs Trifle did the worst thing you can do to a dieting dog. They gave him leftover people-food. Not just any people-food but the food Selby loved the most in the world — Peanut Prawns.

‘Why do they torture me like this?!’ Selby thought. ‘I love Peanut Prawns! I adore them! I would die for them! But they’re fattening. I have to be strong.’

‘I guess he doesn’t like them,’ Mrs Trifle said, putting the leftover Peanut Prawns in the fridge. ‘Don’t worry, old boy, we’ll never give them to you again. Here’s some of those lovely Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits you love so much.’

‘Good grief,’ Selby thought as he nibbled a dog biscuit. ‘These things are mostly sawdust. Oh well, at least they’re not fattening.’

Little by little, Selby lost weight and his muscles became harder and harder. When he walked, there was a spring in his step. When he looked in the mirror, he loved what he saw.

‘Hey there, big fella,’ he said to himself, ‘you are one terrific dude. You’re as trim as a
dressmaker and as taut as a teacher. The only problem is a slight smell of sweat.’

In the bathroom, Selby found the bottle of Fruit 4 Brutes men’s aftershave that Mrs Trifle had given to Dr Trifle three Christmases ago. He dabbed a bit behind each ear.

‘Dr Trifle never uses this,’ he thought. ‘He’s not an aftershave sort of guy. But, hey, it smells great on me!’

‘Have you noticed anything different about Selby?’ Mrs Trifle asked Dr Trifle one evening at dinner.

‘Not really,’ said Dr Trifle, who was not a good noticer.

‘There’s something different about him but I can’t quite put my finger on it.’

‘If you put your finger on me, you’ll hurt yourself,’ Selby thought. ‘My muscles are that hard.’

Even though the Trifles didn’t notice Selby’s new trim and taut body, lots of other people in Bogusville did. People would stop in front of Sam’s to see the exercising dog. Then, one by one, they started coming in and exercising, too.

‘You’re great for business,’ Samantha told him. ‘I wish there was some way I could thank you.’

‘Believe me, Sam,’ Selby thought, as he looked at all the girl-dogs who had gathered outside to watch him,‘you already have.’

These days when Selby went for a walk, the girl-dogs walked with him. And when he got back to the Trifles’ house, he’d turn and look into their adoring eyes. ‘See you tomorrow, girls,’ he’d say in people-talk, which he knew they couldn’t understand. And then he’d flex his muscles and add,‘If you’re lucky.’

Selby was now the most noticed dog in Bogusville. No one tripped over him any more. The girl-dogs all adored him and people everywhere stopped to pat him. Selby’s life would have been perfect if it hadn’t been for Rusty.

Rusty was definitely the meanest, nastiest pitbull–rottweiler cross that had ever come to Bogusville. He had fiery red eyes and more teeth than a killer shark. The good thing about Rusty was that he was locked in a yard with an iron fence that was high enough to keep a giraffe in. The bad thing was that Selby had to pass by Rusty’s yard to get to Samantha’s fitness
centre and, when he did, Rusty’s eyes followed him as he went.

‘That dog is seriously scary!’ Selby thought, trying not to notice. ‘If he ever got out of there, it wouldn’t matter how fit I was — he’d tear me to shreds!’

But Rusty didn’t even make the smallest growl — at least not till Selby began walking by with his admiring girl-dogs. Now, every time Selby passed, Rusty was on his feet in a flash, growling a deafening growl, his eyes flashing like a firetruck’s siren and his fangs dripping saliva.

‘Settle down, ya big boof-head,’ Selby would say in perfect people-talk. ‘Pay no attention to him, girls.’

When Selby was alone, he’d try to tiptoe past the fence but Rusty would come out of nowhere, barking and growling and ramming the fence with his head like a rhino.

‘How does he know I’m here?’ Selby wondered. ‘It’s like he can see around corners. No, hang on, he must be able to smell me. He can smell Dr Trifle’s aftershave. Well, too bad. It makes me smell nice and I like that.’

And this is where we were at the beginning of the story, when Dr Schnipskin noticed Selby and came to ask Mrs Trifle if he could clone him. And, when we left the story, Dr Schnipskin had just told Mrs Trifle that he was about to leave Bogusville. Selby hoped that he would never see the man again.

That’s what Selby hoped …

The Trifles were both working late and Selby was alone in the house. He’d been to the fitness centre and had come home, leaving a group of his admirers on the doorstep. He’d even kissed a couple of them goodbye when he was sure the neighbours weren’t watching.

He wandered into the bathroom and had just dabbed a bit of Dr Trifle’s aftershave on when a rope dropped over him.

‘Gotcha!’ Dr Schnipskin cried. ‘You didn’t think you were going to get away from me, did you? Come along now, dog. It’s cloning time.’

‘Not on your life!’ Selby thought, as he struggled to get loose. ‘Or at least not on mine! This guy’s not going to schnip my skin!’