Selby Spacedog (9 page)

‘What’s that on my head?! It looks like white hair!’ he thought as he dashed for the bathroom and jumped up on the basin to look in the mirror. ‘Oh, no! It is! No wonder they thought I looked older — I do! I’ve got to do something about it! Didn’t Mrs Trifle get some
hair dye when she was thinking of getting rid of
her
white hair?’

Selby searched through the medicine cabinet and found a box with a label that said: Two-Step White-Fighter Shampoo. Inside was a row of little bottles.

‘Thank goodness,’ Selby thought, ‘there are lots of colours. Let’s see which one is closest to Selby colour. “Autumn Leaf"? No, too red. “Blue Lagoon"? Who would want blue hair? “Auburn"? No, too brown. “Champagne"? No, too silvery blond. And what’s this clear stuff called “Fixer"? Hmmm. There’s nothing like my colour. I’m sort of in between those last two. That’s it! I’ll use half Auburn and half Champagne! I’d better dye the whole of me instead of just the white bits just to make sure I’m all the same colour. That way no one will notice.’

‘Let’s see now,’ Selby said, reading the directions.
‘First wet hair. Then apply Two-Step White-Fighter Shampoo and wait ten minutes. Then
— oh, forget it. I hate directions. It’s all just common sense anyway.’

Selby turned on the shower, jumped in and
began rubbing both dyes into his fur. Then he stood there covered in foam for ten minutes.

‘Okay, finished with the shampoo. Now for the old rinse-aroo,’ he said, showering off the foam. ‘And then the big dry-aroo.’

Selby grabbed the hair dryer and was just finishing drying himself when he heard the Trifles’ car pull into the driveway.

‘Finished,’ he thought. ‘And not a second too soon.’

Selby jumped up on the basin and put the bottles of dye back in the medicine cabinet and was just about to jump down again when he saw himself in the mirror. The full horror of what he saw hit him like a thousand thunderbolts.

‘I’ve gone bright pink!’ he cried. ‘I’m pink all over! I look like a pink parrot! Oh, woe, woe, woe. How did it happen? Oh, no! The white hairs on top of my head are still white!’

Selby could hear the Trifles come into the house as he glanced at the directions on the Two-Step White-Fighter Shampoo package. At the bottom was a warning that he hadn’t noticed before:

NEVER USE THESE DYES IF YOU ALREADY HAVE DYE IN YOUR HAIR AND NEVER MIX TWO COLOURS TOGETHER. IF YOU DO, IT’LL BE TOO BAD FOR YOU.

‘Why, oh, why didn’t I read the directions?!’ Selby thought. ‘Why didn’t I just stay white? I’d much rather be old than pink! From now on I’ll always read every word of directions on everything!’

‘Selby,’ Mrs Trifle called as she walked down the hallway towards the bathroom. ‘Oh, Selby. Where are you? Time for your walk.’

‘I can’t let her see me like this,’ Selby thought. ‘One glimpse and I’m gone. Pink, for pity’s sake! Why pink?! I hate pink! I’ve got to get out of here quick smart.’

With this, Selby leapt up out the window and hit the ground running. He didn’t stop running till he’d gone all the way down Bunya-Bunya Crescent and into the bush beyond.

‘This is the end,’ Selby sniffed. ‘I can’t go back again till my hair grows out and gets back to its usual colour. It could be years. (Sniff.) I’ll have to walk and walk across the land. I’ll never know where my next meal is coming from. I might starve. Just because of a few white hairs I could die.’

Suddenly Selby felt a giggle coming up from his stomach which then turned into a laugh.

‘I’ll die!’ he laughed. ‘That’s what I’ve already done. I’ve already dyed! I’ve dyed myself pink. What am I saying? First I went pink and now I’ve gone bonkers!’

Selby wandered through scrub and fields, going further and further from Bogusville. As it got darker, only the light of distant lightning showed his way. Finally, just as he was about to collapse from exhaustion he saw a pinpoint of light in the distance. As he came closer he could hear a man’s voice.

‘He’s sitting by a campfire talking to himself,’ Selby thought as he crept through the bushes. ‘He sounds like an actor practising his lines.’

Selby crept even closer until he could see the man’s rugged face, ringed as it was with white hair and a white beard. As Selby listened the old man’s voice flowed like honey in the night air.

‘As a child I walked across the land,’ the man said, ‘and everything I saw, I became. I saw rocks and I became the rocks. I became the brown hills and the trees and the streams filling dry riverbeds after a summer shower. I became the woman picking berries, the boy fishing in the sea. I became the tiny flowers on mountain peaks and the thick wet leaves of the rainforest. I became each blade of grass and each blade of grass became me …’

‘He’s gone bonkers just like me,’ Selby thought. ‘At least I’ve got an excuse to go bonkers — I’ve gone pink.’

But as the old man’s voice rose and fell Selby began to feel the beauty of the words spinning about him like leaves in a willy-willy. Seconds passed and then minutes and the words drifted gently down to the bare earth beside the fire.

‘I’ve never heard anything like it,’ Selby thought. ‘His words paint paintings in my head the way poetry does — but it’s not like poetry. It doesn’t rhyme. He’s like a great white spider spinning a web of words in the air.’

Selby was so carried away by the magic of the words that he sat down, breaking a twig beneath his paw.

‘Who goes there?’ the old man demanded. ‘Step into the light so Wanderin’ Dan can see you.’

Selby thought of turning and running away, but before he could move the man had pulled a branch aside and seen him.

‘Goodness me,’ the man said, ‘a pink dog! What will they think of next? Come close to the fire and warm your bones. Wanderin’ Dan needs someone to talk to.’

With that, the man picked Selby up and put him down next to the fire. And for the next few hours, the old man talked and talked, spilling out his strange poetry, speaking of stars and the planets and the land.

‘I dream of a day,’ he said, finally, ‘when I could fly high in the sky and look back on this great green earth and say, Wanderin’ Dan, you’re the luckiest man that ever lived. You’ve got nothing and you’ve got everything. And everything there is, is good. And that even goes for pink dogs.’

Selby listened on into the night and soon he’d fallen asleep. Towards morning, the sound of raindrops on leaves woke him. He looked around and found himself alone in a little shelter made of branches.

‘He’s gone,’ Selby thought. ‘Wanderin’ Dan has wandered off. But before he did, he made this thing to keep me dry. Wasn’t that nice? Such a nice man. He was old, he had no money or anything, but he was still happy. Why can’t I be happy too? My only problem is that I’m pink, for heaven’s sake! This is silly, I’m going straight back to Bogusville and tell the Trifles that I
know how to talk and they’re just going to have to like me for what I am — a pink talking dog!’

Without waiting for the rain to finish, Selby ran back towards Bogusville. Within minutes he was soaked to the skin. He was just balancing on a log crossing Bogusville Creek when suddenly he looked down and saw pink droplets around his feet.

‘What’s this?’ Selby thought. ‘My goodness! My colour is running! The pink is coming out with the rain! I’m turning Selby-coloured again!’ he screeched, leaping to the riverbank and dancing in circles. ‘Of course — that’s why it’s called Two-Step White-Fighter Shampoo. I didn’t do the second step! That “Fixer” bottle must be the chemical that makes the dye stay in! I didn’t use it because I didn’t read the directions! Oh, happy day, I’ll never ever read directions again!’

Selby broke into a joyous run filled with leaps and bounds as he tore towards town.

‘Yiiiipppppeeee! My colour is running and I’m running too!’ he cried as he soaked up as much rain as he could. ‘I can go back now and just keep my trap shut and be my real secret self again!’

It was evening by the time Selby crept back through the doggy-door and curled up on the carpet. Moments later Dr and Mrs Trifle arrived home.

‘That was the greatest BoPoFest ever,’ Dr Trifle said, ‘especially the Sudden-Death Poetry Read-Off part.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Mrs Trifle. ‘And that old man who won it — that Wanderin’ Dan, the Poet Man — he was wonderful.’

‘And he recited it all from memory,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘The words just flowed out. But I wonder why he didn’t want to keep the jackpot?’

‘He asked us to donate it to the RSPCA,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘He must be wealthy because he said he didn’t need money. He said that he had everything he needed.’

‘You know,’ Dr Trifle said, ‘it all goes to show that I was right.’

‘About what?’

‘That poems are never about what you think they’re about,’ Dr Trifle explained. ‘The pink dog in the poem must have been a symbol for something else. I mean there aren’t any pink dogs, are there?’

‘No, I guess you’re right,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Hey! Look over there! Selby’s back! He’s not lost after all!’

‘Oh, Selby, where have you been all night? You frightened the wits out of us!’ Dr Trifle said, stroking Selby’s head. ‘Hmmm, this is strange. This hair on top of his head is all white and stiff —’

‘That’s not white hair at all,’ Mrs Trifle said, looking more closely. ‘It’s paint from the doggy-door. He must have come through it just after you painted it with your surface covering thingy.’

‘Well, isn’t that a coincidence,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Just today I invented Dry-In-A-Flash Surface Covering Substance Remover. I’ll get the bottle now and we’ll have him back to normal in a jiffy.’

‘Oh, happy happy day!’ Selby thought. ‘I’m normal again. And from now on I’m just going to be plain old non-pink me and I’ll be happy as Larry. Better still, I’ll be as happy as Wanderin’ Dan, the Poet Man.

SELBY CONFESSES

‘That little monster, Willy, is coming to stay for a whole week!’ Selby thought. ‘And Mrs Trifle is away. Only Dr Trifle will be here to protect me! Why, oh why, do these things always happen to me?’

Willy was a terrible brat. Worse still, he knew that Selby could talk. Once, when Selby had been really angry he called Willy a brat.
And from that day on Willy kept telling everyone that Selby knew how to talk. Fortunately, no one believed him. Unfortunately, every time he saw Selby, Willy
tried to torture him into confessing his secret to everyone.