A Sheepdog Called Sky Read online

  Grateful for Tom’s presence of mind, Jasmine phoned her dad, who was checking the cows, and quickly explained the situation.

  “He’s going to drive all round the fields,” she said to Tom. “And I told him you’ll head up to the woods on foot and I’ll go down along the river.”

  They grabbed their coats and tugged on wellies. Jasmine stuffed a handful of Sky’s treats in her pocket and gave another handful to Tom. Then they walked out into the pelting rain.

  “Don’t worry,” said Tom. “We’ll find him.”

  Jasmine set off across the farmyard, calling Sky’s name, trying not to let panic overwhelm her. A deafening clap of thunder made her jump. Forked lightning lit up the sky ahead.

  Suddenly she had a thought so terrible that she almost threw up. What if he had run right to the edge of the farm and out on to the main road? What if a car had –

  She forced herself to stop imagining such things. It wouldn’t help. She just had to find him. By the time she had opened the gate to the sheep field that ran alongside the river, Jasmine was already soaked, her clothes clinging to her skin. She walked all around the big field, calling for Sky, but there was no sign of him.

  There was no sign in the next field, either. With a heavy heart, she climbed over the gate into the one beyond that. The roar of car engines and the splashing of tyres were louder here. The hedge on the far side of this field bordered the main road.

  And then she saw him. Running towards the road, his soaking fur clinging to his body.

  “Sky!” she called. “Sky!”

  But instead of coming back to her, Sky sped up. Jasmine raced after him, calling his name, but Sky just kept running. When he reached the hedge that bordered the road, he wriggled right into it.

  “Stay there!” Jasmine pleaded desperately, as she pelted towards him. “Stay there, Sky!”

  She was almost at the hedge when, with one final push, Sky wriggled his way out of the other side and bolted on to the main road, straight into the path of an approaching car.

  Jasmine raced to the gate, sick with terror. The car slowed, swerved, and drove on. Jasmine made herself look out into the road. But she saw nothing except cars driving through the rain, headlights on and windscreen wipers at full speed.

  And then, in the hedge on the other side of the road, she caught a glimpse of something white among the thick green leaves.

  Was it Sky? She couldn’t be sure. To investigate, she would have to cross the road, something she was expressly forbidden from doing.

  Jasmine looked right and left and right again, as her parents had drilled into her since she was a toddler. Only when there was no car visible in either direction did she cross the road.

  She crouched down on the wide verge and looked into the dense hedgerow. And there, with his back to her, howling and struggling against a bramble branch tangled in the fur on his front legs, was Sky. He was trying to wriggle out of the other side of the hedge.

  Jasmine let out her breath in an enormous sigh of relief.

  “Oh, Sky!” she said. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”

  Sky kept on struggling. Jasmine climbed over the gate into the field and crouched down in front of the hedge on the other side, facing the terrified dog.

  “Hello, Sky,” she said. “Look, it’s me. You’re safe now. I’ve come to get you.”

  But Sky didn’t even seem to recognise her. He just carried on yelping and struggling.

  “It’s OK, Sky, it’s me. Let me get those nasty brambles off you.”

  Jasmine reached through a gap in the hedge. At that moment, a massive clap of thunder sounded and lightning tore the sky in two. And Sky sank his sharp teeth hard into her hand.

  “Ow!” she cried, snatching her hand away.

  Tears of shock filled her eyes. She looked at her hand.

  There were four bleeding bite marks on it.

  Jasmine sat by the hedge in shock. She couldn’t believe what had happened. It had never, ever occurred to her that Sky might bite her.

  For some time, she just sat, nursing her sore hand, unable to think straight. Eventually, though, she made herself get her thoughts in order and remember some of the things she had read in her book on collies.

  It’s because he’s frightened, she told herself. That’s all it is. He’s not an aggressive dog. He hasn’t turned wild. He doesn’t fear me or hate me. He’s just terrified of the storm.

  She tried to remember the section in her book about “calming signals” that humans could use to calm stressed or troubled dogs. Canine behaviour experts had learned these signals from watching the body language that dogs use to calm each other in tense situations.

  Jasmine got up from the soaking ground and pushed away the hair that was plastered to her face. Sky was still yelping and whimpering in the hedge. Trying to remember the right signals from the book, Jasmine bent over in a play bow, with her arms stretching down in the way a dog would stretch its front legs. Then she sat down again, fairly close to Sky, but with her body turned sideways from him. This would avoid eye contact, which, in his current state, he might see as a threat. She gave a big yawn, to signal that she wasn’t being aggressive, and licked the sides of her mouth. Dogs lick their noses, but Jasmine couldn’t quite manage that.

  Was it just wishful thinking, or were his yelps becoming less frantic?

  Jasmine gave another yawn. Then she lowered her face and sniffed the ground. Finally, she stretched out and lay face down on the drenched grass. She was so cold and wet by now that it wouldn’t make any difference.

  She lay there until Sky had stopped yelping and his cries had quietened to a whimper. She risked a sideways glance at him. He seemed to be trying to reach her. To free him, though, she was going to have to reach into the hedge and disentangle him from the bramble. Would he trust her this time, or would he bite her again?

  Slowly, she raised herself to a sitting position, yawning and licking around her mouth to reassure him that she wasn’t being aggressive. She remembered the packet of dog treats in her pocket. That might help.

  She ripped open the bag with her teeth and put a few treats in her left hand. Her right hand was too sore to use. Then, still avoiding eye contact, she stretched her arm very slowly through the gap in the hedge.

  Holding her breath, desperately hoping there wouldn’t be another clap of thunder to spook Sky, Jasmine dropped the dog treats on the ground where he could reach them, and then began to work the bramble out of his coat, yawning and licking the sides of her mouth as she did so.

  To her great relief, Sky stretched his neck forward and gobbled up the treats.

  “Good boy,” said Jasmine softly. “Good boy, Sky, well done.”

  She carried on gently disentangling the brambles. He gave a little yelp when she tugged a bit too hard, but apart from that, he was quiet. Finally, Jasmine was able to pull the bramble away, and he was free. She withdrew her hand and sat on the grass again.

  Some instinct told her not to call him this time. When she had called him in the field, he had just run away even faster. So she placed the remaining treats in a line from Sky to herself and then sat on the ground, shivering in her saturated clothes, waiting and hoping. The rain slowed to a drizzle, and a glimmer of blue appeared through the clouds.

  After a while, she heard Sky move. She glanced sideways and saw that he had stood up. She forced herself to sit still and wait, yawning now to calm herself as much as Sky.

  Hesitantly, Sky edged forwards. He was still wearing his lead, but Jasmine resisted the temptation to grab it, in case that panicked him again. She continued to wait.

  Sky edged closer and closer, until she could feel the warmth of his breath. And then she felt something that made her heart soar with happiness: Sky’s little tongue licking her hand.

  “Hello, Sky,” she said softly. “Hello, boy. Everything’s all right now. Everything’s all right.”

  She wanted to pick him up and cuddle him, but she made herself stay still until she was
completely sure he trusted her again. A huge smile spread across her face as he wriggled into her lap, lifted his head and licked her neck.

  “Good boy,” she said, finally allowing herself to stroke his back. “Good boy, Sky.”

  Sky snuggled into her lap and licked her face. For a while, she just cuddled him, revelling in the feeling of having him safely back. Then she said, “I need to get you home, Sky. Everyone will be worried about you.”

  Holding tightly to his lead, Jasmine lifted Sky gently off her lap. Then, stiff from the cold and from sitting motionless on the hard wet ground, she got to her feet and set off for home.

  When Jasmine got home, the house was empty. She phoned her dad, who was very relieved to hear the news. It turned out that not only Tom, but Manu, and even Ella, were out looking for Sky.

  “I’ll round up the others in the truck,” Dad said, “and we’ll be back as soon as we can.”

  Jasmine took the shivering dog out to the scullery and wrapped him in an old towel. She gave him food and water, rubbed him dry and brushed his coat. When the key turned in the front door, she assumed it was Dad with the others, so she was surprised when her mother walked into the scullery.

  “Oh, Jasmine,” she said, “you’re absolutely drenched. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” said Jasmine. “It was Sky who wasn’t.”

  “I just got Dad’s messages,” said Mum. “I was in surgery. Any injuries?”

  “No, thank goodness,” said Jasmine, as she finished brushing his coat. “He was caught in brambles, but only his fur. He walked home with me and I think he’s fine, except he must be really tired.”

  “To your bed, Sky,” said Mum, pointing to Sky’s crate. He walked in and curled straight up in his bed.

  “He should sleep well,” said Mum. “It’s you I’m worried about. You look absolutely frozen. Take those wet clothes off and let’s get you in the bath.”

  After her bath, Jasmine went down to the kitchen in her pyjamas and dressing gown. Mum made hot chocolate and toasted teacakes.

  “Dad’s just taking Tom home,” she said, “and then he’ll be back with the others.”

  She slid a mug of hot chocolate across the table. Jasmine stretched out her hand to take it. Mum frowned.

  “What’s happened to your hand?”

  Jasmine pulled it back. “Oh, I just caught it on the brambles.”

  “Let me see.”

  “It’s fine, honestly.”

  “Jasmine, show me your hand,” said Mum, in her sternest voice.

  With a twisting knot in her stomach, Jasmine held her hand out.

  Mum looked at her in horror. “Sky bit you?”

  Tears filled Jasmine’s eyes. She tried to blink them back. “He didn’t mean to. He was frightened of the thunder. It was all my fault.”

  Every muscle in her body was tense, waiting for Mum to say, “I warned you this might happen. It’s not safe. We can’t keep him here any longer.”

  But instead, Mum said gently, “Tell me all about it.”

  So, while Mum cleaned the bite wounds, Jasmine told her everything. The only thing she left out was the fact that Sky, and therefore she, had crossed the main road. This part, she felt, was not essential to the story and would only cause unnecessary fuss.

  When she had finished, she waited with bated breath for Mum’s verdict. Mum was silent for a nerve-wrackingly long time. Finally, she said, “Well, the good news is, once he had bitten you, you did all the right things. It was lucky you’d read about calming signals. It sounds as though you used them very effectively.”

  She paused. Jasmine stayed tense and expectant. Mum clearly had more to say.

  “Your mistakes were all in the build-up to the bite,” said Mum. “Sky didn’t want to hurt you. He loves you more than anything. But at that point, he was simply acting from his deepest instincts. Your big mistake, apart from leaving the door open in the first place, was to call him back when you went looking for him.”

  Jasmine stared at her. “What do you mean? How else would he come back?”

  “I know it goes against all your instincts,” said Mum, “but the one thing you really shouldn’t do with a dog that’s run off in fear, is call it. The noise that spooked him brought out his fight or flight response, you see, and a dog’s instinct in that situation is just to run and run, to get as far away as possible from the perceived danger. If you call him back, he just keeps on running, because his instincts tell him not to allow himself to be caught.”

  “So what should I have done?” asked Jasmine.

  “Well, when you saw him,” said Mum, “you should have kept a bit of distance and used the calming signals, so that, eventually, he would calm down and come to you. When you put your hand in the hedge to try to catch him, he was so panicked that he probably didn’t even recognise you. He just saw you as another threat. And it was particularly unfortunate that there happened to be a thunderclap at that moment. Dogs have such sensitive hearing that thunder must sound absolutely terrifying to them.”

  “You’re not going to send him away because he bit me, are you?” said Jasmine. “You know he didn’t mean to. And he won’t do it again. I’m sure he won’t.”

  “There’s no point even discussing it at the moment,” said Mum. “It’s not quite been a month since we reported him to the dog warden. Somebody still might come forward and claim him.”

  “Nobody’s going to claim him,” said Jasmine. “They left him in a hedge to die. You’re just saying that because you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You’re right,” said Mum. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to make dinner in peace.”

  Jasmine went to her room, tired but very relieved. Mum hadn’t said she would send Sky away, and Jasmine was sure that nobody would claim him now. There were only four days left until the month was up. And then Sky would be hers forever.

  Three days later, Jasmine, Tom and Sky were playing hide and seek. Jasmine held Sky on his lead around the corner of the house, where Mum was weeding the flowerbed, while Tom went to hide in the orchard. Sky was getting to be a very good seeker, so they were hiding further and further away.

  Jasmine gave Tom a couple of minutes to hide, and then she unclipped Sky’s lead and said, “Find Tom!”

  Sky trotted off happily, his nose to the ground and his tail wagging. Jasmine followed at a distance. Tom was crouched behind a patch of nettles in the far corner of the orchard, and Sky found him easily. While Tom was praising him, Jasmine petted Truffle, who was digging up the grass under an apple tree with her tough snout. The huge sow grunted contentedly as Jasmine scratched her behind the ears.

  “It will soon be autumn, Truffle,” said Jasmine, looking up at the enormous old oak tree in the corner of the orchard, “and you’ll have all those acorns to feast on.”

  “Do you want to hide,” said Tom, “or shall I go again?”

  “You hide one more time,” said Jasmine, “and then let’s go to the den.”

  Yesterday, she and Tom had started building a den in the thicket at the bottom of the horse paddock. (There were no horses in the horse paddock now, but the field had got its name in the days before tractors were invented, when the farm horses used to graze there.)

  Jasmine gave Truffle a final scratch behind the ears and then called Sky. He started to run in front of her as they headed for the gate, and she gave the command she had learned from Tom’s Aunty Angela. “Stay close!”

  Sky turned and came back to her immediately. “Good boy,” she said. “Good boy, Sky.”

  At the orchard gate, she made sure Sky stayed behind her so that she could go through the gate first. Angela had told her that this was really important.

  “Always remember that dogs are pack animals,” Angela had said. “They’re always looking to move up the pecking order. When they try to push past you in gateways, it’s because they’re trying to be top dog. It’s really important that you don’t let them get away with it. You must alwa
ys be top dog. And Sky will want to please you, so if you’re consistent, he’ll quickly learn what he needs to do to earn your praise.”

  Sky certainly wanted to please Jasmine, and he was also a quick learner. Jasmine had read that border collies are the most intelligent dogs in the world, and Sky, she was sure, was one of the most intelligent border collies of them all. She couldn’t wait until he was a few months older and she could start training him to work sheep.

  Mum’s phone started to ring as Jasmine came around the corner. Her mother pulled off her gardening gloves and fished it out of her back pocket. She glanced at the screen before answering.

  “Hello, Linda, what’s up?”

  Linda was the head nurse at Mum’s surgery. Mum listened for a minute, and then said, “Are you sure she means Sky?”

  Linda said something else. “Uh-huh,” said Mum, nodding and listening intently. Linda spoke for what felt like ages. Mum shot a glance at Jasmine, who was standing rigid, staring at her.

  “Yes, yes, I’ll come in,” Mum said, standing up and brushing the debris off her jeans. “Give her a cup of tea and tell her I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  “What was that?” asked Jasmine, as Mum ended the call. “What was Linda saying about Sky?”

  Mum took a deep breath.

  “A woman has just come into the surgery. She says she’s the sister of Sky’s owner.”

  Jasmine stared at her in horror. “No. It can’t be Sky. It could be any collie. Why does she think it’s Sky?”

  “She’s brought in photos of a puppy that she says belonged to her brother. And Linda says the dog has exactly the same markings as Sky.”

  “No,” said Jasmine. “It’s not Sky. Lots of collies have those markings. She’s got no proof.”