Selby Scrambled (7 page)

‘Yeah, well that’s my problem, too. So keep the noise down.’

The man rolled over again.

‘This is amazing,’ Selby thought. ‘I just talked and he doesn’t seem to care at all. Hey, you,’ Selby said out loud again, ‘didn’t you notice that I talked?’

‘So what? Go to sleep.’

‘But I’m a dog. I’m not supposed to talk. I don’t know how I learned to do it. It just happened. I was sitting in front of the TV one day and suddenly I could understand what they were saying.’

As Selby talked about his life with the Trifles, the man slowly sat up on his bed listening to every word. On and on Selby talked till the
middle of the night. He talked about Dr Trifle’s inventions, and about Mrs Trifle’s troubles as mayor, about Willy and Billy — everything.

Finally, he had said it all.

‘That’s really interesting,’ the man said. ‘And trust me, I won’t give away your secret.’

‘You won’t?’

‘I would but nobody would believe me.’

‘They wouldn’t?’

‘No, because I’m a liar. I’ve been a liar all my life. From when I was a little kid I never ever told the truth,’ the man said. ‘Hey, I like you, dog. What’s your name?’

‘Selby,’ Selby said.

‘Call me Tats,’ the man said. ‘So how long are you in for?’

‘I’ll find out tomorrow. Ten years, I think.’

‘Wow! That’s a long time in a dog’s life. What was the evidence?’

‘A photo of me running through Poshfield without a leash.’

The man gave a long, low whistle.

‘It’s hard to argue with a photograph,’ he said. ‘Did you realise you were set up?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It wasn’t a coincidence that the mayor’s poodle chased you into Poshfield. This mayor guy would have been spying on you. Then one day you were out near Poshfield and he had his mutt chase you over the line. Was there a car behind you?’

‘Come to think of it, I think there was.’

‘That was the mayor. He let his dog out of the car and then took pictures when you got into Poshfield. That’s what I reckon.’

‘But that’s
sooooooooo
unfair!’ Selby wailed. ‘I’m going to tell the judge everything.’

‘It’ll be your word against that mayor guy. And he’s got a photo. Besides, if you talk, your life will be ruined forever. You said that yourself.’

‘It’s already ruined.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ Tats said. ‘How about escaping?’

‘Escaping? Sure — but how?’

Tats grabbed one of the window bars. He slid it up easily and then took it out.

‘Can you fit through there?’

‘How’d you do that?’ Selby asked.

‘Years of work. Last week I finally got it loose. But now I don’t need to escape because they’re letting me out next month. Come on, off you go, little guy.’

Selby climbed up onto the windowsill.

‘Thank you so much,’ he said as he jumped down to the ground.

‘Pssst!’ Tats pssst-ed. ‘Where will you go?’

‘Home,’ Selby whispered back.

‘But you can’t. Sooner or later the cops will get you. You can’t go home ever again. Go as far away as possible. Someone will take you into their home.’

‘But I don’t want anyone else. I only want to live with the Trifles. They’re the most wonderful people in the world.’

‘Selby, take it from an old crim: you need a plan. Everyone needs a plan. Forget these owners of yours and work out a plan for the rest of your life. Now go!’

Selby dashed across the road and through the darkened streets of Poshfield.

‘It’s nice to be free,’ he thought, ‘but what good is freedom when I can’t
(sniff)
live with the Trifles? And it’s all because of that horrible

Denis Dorset and that bloodthirsty dog of his. If I ever see him again I’ll bite him into next year!’

Suddenly Selby caught sight of Poshfield Manor, the mayor’s mansion.

‘Hey, hang on,’ he thought. ‘What was it Tats said? “It’s hard to argue with a photograph.’”

In a second, Selby was through the gate and peering through the windows of Denis Dorset’s house. Soon he was looking into the mayor’s study.

‘The laptop!’ he thought, as he quietly raised the window and climbed in. ‘It’s sitting right there. Oh boy, oh boy.’

Selby turned on the computer.

‘And there’s the photo.’

Selby was about to hit the DELETE button when he had a second thought.

‘I’d better check to see if there are other copies saved somewhere.’

Selby clicked his way through the computer files, looking for copies of the photo until suddenly —

‘Whoa!’ he cried in his brain. ‘He took stacks of photos! Me walking along. Me walking along
some more. Powderpuff chasing me into Poshfield.’

Suddenly Selby heard the unmistakable sound of Powderpuff’s claws clicking down the hall outside the study. In a second the dog was standing in the doorway, his fangs dripping with saliva.

‘Hey, Powderpuff,’ Selby whispered. ‘Have you ever seen a dog disappear? Watch me!’

Selby dived out the window and was running again.

‘That’s two escapes in one night,’ he thought. ‘And now for one more. Only this’ll be an inscape instead of an e-scape.’

And it was a startled Tats who woke up the next morning and looked over at the other bed.

‘Selby!’ he said. ‘You’re back!’

‘Yes, I’m back,’ Selby said. ‘And I have a plan.’

‘This court is now in session,’ the judge said, banging his hammer. ‘Now to sentence Selby Trifle to prison.’

‘One moment, please,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Could we see the evidence again?’

‘I can’t see that it will do any good,’ the judge said, ‘but all right.’

Denis Dorset again opened his laptop and showed the photo of Selby on the screen.

‘I think that’s proof enough,’ he said. ‘Now, Mrs Trifle, have you considered our little proposal? It’s still possible to get your dog off.’

‘I love Selby,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘He’s the most wonderful, kind and loving dog in the whole world and I will miss him. I’ll visit him every day in prison and bring him lots of those Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits that he loves so much. But I can’t let Bogusville be ruined by you!’

‘Poor Dr and Mrs Trifle,’ Selby thought, his eyes filling with tears.

Suddenly Mrs Trifle reached over to Denis’s laptop and clicked the mouse. The photo on the screen changed. There was Selby walking along. Another click and there was Powderpuff chasing Selby.

‘What are you doing?’ Denis yelled. ‘Leave my computer alone!’

‘Stay away from me, you … you … you worm!’ Mrs Trifle yelled back.

There was a gasp in the courtroom as the photo came up of Selby being chased past the sign that said: ENTERING POSHFIELD.

‘Denis Dorset, you are a sneak and a scoundrel!’ Mrs Trifle cried. ‘You planned all this just to get your grubby hands on Bogusville.’

‘I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Denis Dorset said.

‘Well I do,’ the judge said. ‘And it is clear that Selby is innocent …’

The police undid Selby’s paw-cuffs and Selby bounded across the courtroom and into the Trifles’ arms.

‘… and,’ the judge continued, ‘that you are guilty, Denis Dorset.’

‘Of what, you silly man?’ Denis said. ‘There’s no law against chasing dogs.’

‘But there
is
a law against dogs being out without a leash in Poshfield. I believe you and your council wrote that law. And your dog Powderpuff was running down the street in Poshfield without a leash. Look at your own photos.’

‘This isn’t fair!’

‘Oh, yes it is! Now which will it be: ten years in prison for the dog or a ten thousand dollar fine for you?’

‘I’m thinking, I’m thinking,’ Denis said, sheepishly. ‘Oh well, I guess I’ll pay the fine. I

wouldn’t feel right about little Powdie going to Jail.’

‘That was brilliant!’ Dr Trifle said to Mrs Trifle when they got home. ‘How did you know to click the mouse on the laptop?’

‘I got an email last night telling me to do it,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘So who sent the email?’ Dr Trifle asked.

‘I don’t know. There was no name on it. The funny thing was that it had Denis’s email address on it. He obviously didn’t send it. I guess I’ll Just have to say that a little birdie told me.’

Dr and Mrs Trifle laughed. Selby looked up at them.

‘But it wasn’t a little birdie that told her,’ Selby thought, ‘it was a little doggy — little old me.’

It all began with an email. It was like so many emails that Selby had answered before. It said:

‘Hmmm,’ Selby hmmmed. ‘Why do kids always want to know my real name? I guess they’re just curious.’