The Puppy Problem Read online

  Also by Laura James

  illustrated by Églantine Ceulemans

  Captain Pug

  Cowboy Pug

  Safari Pug

  illustrated by Emily Fox

  Fabio the World’s Greatest Flamingo Detective:

  The Case of the Missing Hippo

  Fabio the World’s Greatest Flamingo Detective:

  Mystery on the Ostrich Express

  illustrated by Charlie Alder

  The Daily Bark: The Dinosaur Discovery

  For Sienna and William —L. J.

  For J&W . . . no, you can’t have a dog . . . yet —C. A.

  Gizmo was a city dog. A prince of the urban jungle. His parks were plentiful and his lawns were mown. He and Granny owned the streets they . . .

  STOP THE PRESSES!

  GRANNY MAKES SURPRISE MOVE

  TO THE COUNTRY TO WRITE MEMOIRS! GIZMO SHOCKED!

  Gizmo worried as he and Granny drove away from the only home he’d ever known. They were going to a place called Puddle. That didn’t sound good—he hated getting his paws wet. But where Granny went, he went.

  Gizmo had finally managed to nap, when a bump in the road woke him. They’d arrived. He sniffed the air. It smelled . . . different. Too clean.

  His worry deepened.

  As Granny made her way to the house, Gizmo explored the front yard. It seemed very strange to him. For a start, there wasn’t a uniformed groundskeeper. There were no fountains, no rows of benches, and where were the garbage cans? To him it seemed wild and unruly. He was carefully edging his way around a flower bed when he heard a voice.

  “Hello there!”

  Was it the great dog in the sky?

  “Over here!” said the voice.

  Gizmo looked all around but he couldn’t see anyone. Ahead of him was a large fence with a small hole in it. He peered through. More wilderness. All he could see were shrubs and bushes and four strange hairy tree trunks.

  “Is there anybody there?” he asked.

  “Yes, me!” came the reply.

  Suddenly his gaze was met by an enormous eye. He jumped back, startled, and the eye blinked.

  “I’m Jilly,” it said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Gizmo tried to wag his tail in a friendly way, but he was shaking. “Um, hello,” he replied. “I’m Gizmo. I’ve never met an enormous eye before.”

  “Up here,” insisted the voice. “At the top of the fence.”

  Gizmo craned his head back as far as he could and saw the biggest, furriest face he’d ever seen. He recognized the eye.

  “What kind of dog are you?” he asked, amazed.

  “I’m an Irish wolfhound!”

  “What are you standing on?” Gizmo asked. He couldn’t figure out how she could be looking over the fence when it was so high.

  “Nothing,” said Jilly, confused.

  Gizmo looked back through the hole in the fence and realized that what he’d thought were tree trunks were in fact Jilly’s very long legs. She was the biggest dog he’d ever seen! He took a nervous step back.

  “What are you?” Jilly asked.

  “I’m a dachshund,” Gizmo replied. Despite his nerves he couldn’t help showing off his long, smooth body. “Or a sausage dog. It’s easier to say.”

  “Mmm, sausages!” said Jilly, salivating. A droplet landed on Gizmo’s head as Jilly leaned over the fence.

  “Don’t eat me! Don’t eat me!” Gizmo cried, covering his eyes with his paws. “I’m not a sausage! I’m a sausage DOG!”

  Above him, he heard a snuffling, woofing sound. Jilly was laughing. “I’m not going to eat you!” she said. “Sorry I drooled. I just love sausages—ever since I had my pups, I’m always hungry.” Eventually her chuckling got the better of Gizmo and he joined in. Maybe he’d made his first friend in Puddle!

  From the yard behind Jilly there was a whine. Putting his eye to the hole in the fence, Gizmo saw a puppy tugging on Jilly’s tail.

  “Meet Wolfie,” said Jilly, wagging her tail free. Wolfie gave a little bark. “He’s my naughty one,” said Jilly fondly. “Always wanting attention. My other three, Wilfred, Wilma, and Willabelle, are in the yard playing. Or at least I hope they are!”

  Even though Wolfie was still a puppy, he was already taller than Gizmo. Gizmo said a shy “hello,” and Wolfie nearly got his nose stuck in the fence in his enthusiastic response. Gizmo had to admit, Wolfie looked very sweet.

  “Gizmo! Supper time!”

  “That’s Granny. I have to go,” said Gizmo.

  “Of course,” said Jilly. “Come around tomorrow to meet the puppies properly.”

  “Gizmooooooo!” Granny was rattling the kibble tin now.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jilly!” said Gizmo, before hurrying inside for his food.

  The following morning, after breakfast, Gizmo went to the hole in the fence and waited for Jilly. Soon her huge nose was snuffling at the hole. When she smelled Gizmo, she heaved a huge, sad sigh.

  “Are you okay, Jilly?” Gizmo asked.

  “Meet me out in front,” she told him.

  Gizmo did as he was told and squeezed through the bars of his garden gate to wait for Jilly. With her were all four of her puppies. They were a charming if rough-and-tumble lot, pulling on each other’s ears and tails. Gizmo could tell that Jilly was very proud of them, but that there was something making her very sad.

  Jilly made the introductions. “This is Wolfie, who you met last night.” Wolfie gave a loud bark and then immediately sat down to scratch his ear. “This is Wilfred.” Wilfred hid behind Jilly. “He’s quite shy,” Jilly told Gizmo in a whisper. One of the puppies then stood in between Jilly’s paws. “Wilma.”

  “Hello, Wilma,” said Gizmo.

  “And last but not least, Willabelle.” Willabelle rushed toward Gizmo and licked him.

  Gizmo flapped his ears in amusement. “Lovely to meet you all,” he said. “What a charming family you have, Jilly,” he added.

  “They are sweet, aren’t they?” she replied as the puppies began to race each other back and forth under the hedge. As soon as they were out of earshot, Jilly burst out, “Oh, Gizmo, something terrible has happened!”

  Gizmo looked at his new friend in concern. “What, Jilly?”

  “My owners are planning to find new families to adopt the puppies by the end of the week. They’re going to be sent far away from Puddle and I’m never going to get to see them again.”

  Gizmo put his paw on Jilly’s. “This is terrible news,” he sympathized. “What can I do to help you?”

  “I thought we could ask around the village today and see if any of the other dogs can help find local homes for the puppies. Will you come with us? It’ll be a good way for you to meet everyone,” said Jilly.

  “Of course!” said Gizmo. “Don’t worry, Jilly, I’m sure someone will be able to help us.”

  “Thank you, Gizmo,” replied Jilly. “You’re a true friend.”

  Jilly corralled the puppies as best she could, reminding them to keep their paws clean, and they set off. It wasn’t long before the puppies were running ahead.

  Gizmo was both excited by and nervous about the chance to explore the village and meet its residents. They’d just passed the school when something or someone shot by them like a rocket. Gizmo was so taken aback that he fell into a nearby hedge.

  “What was that?!” he asked.

  “Oh, that’s Lola,” replied Jilly. “She’s always on the run.”

  Just then Lola came back into view. “What’s up, Jilly?” she asked. “Oh, and who’s your friend?”

  “This is Gizmo,” said Jilly, helping Gizmo back onto his feet. “He’s just moved in next door.”

  “Gizmo! Lovely to meet you,” Lola said. “What kind of
sports are you into? Stick carrying?”

  “No.”

  “Chasing squirrels?”

  “Um, no, not really.”

  “How about pond swimming? There’s a lovely one in the middle of the village.”

  “I’m not very good at sports,” Gizmo confessed. “I mostly like napping . . . in a chair or on a sofa, sometimes behind the sofa, sometimes in my bed, sometimes even upside down . . .” Gizmo trailed off, fondly remembering a particularly good nap he’d had just the other day.

  “Wow! You’re so versatile,” said Lola. “You’ll have to teach me how to sleep upside down one day. You’re lucky to have met Jilly,” she added. “She has her paw on the pulse of Puddle. Knows everyone!”

  It was clear to Gizmo that Lola was itching to keep running. He felt he had to speak quickly before she dashed off again.

  “Lola, do you know anyone in the village who might like to adopt one of Jilly’s puppies?” he asked her.

  “Oh! Moving out, are they? Exciting!” She had a quick think. “Not off the top of my head, but I’ll let you know if anyone comes to mind. Bye!” she added before sprinting off in the direction of the woods.

  “Who was that?” asked Wilfred, who was lagging behind his siblings because he’d been distracted by a pigeon. “She was speedy!”

  “That was Lola, Wilfred,” Jilly told him. “And yes, she’s always in a hurry. Why don’t we go to the farm now? Run ahead and tell the others.”

  Wilfred did as his mother asked.

  “Bunty might know someone,” Jilly told Gizmo, trying not to seem downhearted.

  Gizmo had never been to a farm before. The route there took them through a meadow. As the grass went over Gizmo’s head, Jilly suggested she give him a piggyback ride. The puppies ran ahead, happily exploring the hedges. The name of the farm was painted on a sign. Gizmo read it out loud:

  Willow Tree Farm

  “I never knew it was called that,” Jilly replied. “You learn something new every day.”

  Bunty was at the farm gate when they arrived. Buzzing around her head was a fly whose name, Bunty told Gizmo, was Fliss. Being a basset hound, Bunty wasn’t that much taller than Gizmo. He decided to dismount to say a proper hello. Unfortunately he landed bottom first in cow poop! Bunty’s fly, Fliss, found this very funny. Bunty snapped at her.

  “It happens all the time,” she told Gizmo kindly, and then led him to a water trough. “Here,” she said, “you can try and wash off in this.”

  While Jilly and Bunty discussed the puppy problem, Gizmo took a deep breath and scrambled up on one end of the trough. Perching himself on the narrow edge, he slowly lowered his backside into the water. Unfortunately, as he did so, a cow came along for a drink, and the shock of seeing her made him fall completely into the water.

  The cow kindly grabbed Gizmo by the collar and fished him out, and then proceeded to lick him. This tickled so much it made Gizmo roll around. As he did so, bits of straw from the farmyard stuck to him.

  “Maybe you should take him over to the salon,” suggested Bunty, eyeing Gizmo, who was now looking like a scarecrow. “Bruno could put him under the dryer.”

  Gizmo felt a bit silly, but Jilly was happy to see her puppies enjoying his antics.

  “Sorry I couldn’t help,” Bunty said quietly. “But I’ll let you know if I have any ideas.”

  Jilly nodded her thanks to Bunty and allowed a soggy Gizmo to climb up onto her back.

  Together they headed for the heart of the village.

  The main street of Puddle was lined with trees and had a few small shops. The first of these was a hairdresser. In the doorway lay a German shepherd named Bruno.

  Bruno was very understanding. When his human was busy chatting with her customer, he sneaked Gizmo and Jilly to the back of the salon. Gizmo was beginning to shake from the cold. Jilly helped Gizmo onto a chair and Bruno set up an old-fashioned dryer to warm him up. It didn’t take long before Gizmo was feeling much better, if a little frizzy. He saw Jilly whisper in Bruno’s ear and glance at the puppies. Bruno looked very serious, but shook his head.

  Gizmo was beginning to feel he wasn’t being much help to Jilly. He could see she was getting more and more worried. Even the puppies seemed to know something was wrong. Their tails weren’t wagging as much anymore.

  Their journey home took them past Puddle train station. A Jack Russell terrier was busying himself on the platform, but he stopped when he saw Jilly. Jilly introduced Gizmo to Bob, the station dog.

  Gizmo waited patiently while Jilly explained the puppy problem to Bob. Bob promised her that he’d mention it to every dog he saw.

  “Oh dear, can’t you read, my friend?” Bob asked Gizmo. Gizmo turned his head to see that the bench he’d been sitting on had a WET PAINT sign.

  “The color suits you,” Jilly teased him as they walked home.

  Gizmo laughed. He was amazed how kind she could be even when she was so worried about her puppies. It made him more determined than ever to help her.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t find anyone to take the puppies, but we’ll just have to keep asking,” he reassured her.

  “There’s not much time left, Gizmo,” replied Jilly sadly.

  When they got back home, the puppies went for a nap and Jilly and Gizmo decided to draw up a plan at his house.

  It didn’t take long before Jilly was hungry. “Let’s see if Granny has anything for us to eat,” suggested Gizmo, trying to think of something nice for Jilly.

  “Sausages?!” asked Jilly. Her tail gave a half-hearted wag.

  Gizmo wagged his tail, too.

  On the way to the kitchen, he showed her Granny’s office, which had thousands of books. Granny had unpacked a lot of them, but some were still in boxes.

  “I’ve never seen this many books before,” Jilly remarked in wonder.

  “Granny is the best newspaper editor in the world,” Gizmo told her proudly, sitting down on a comfy pile of packaging.

  Jilly gazed at the framed newspaper articles which lined the walls—some of Granny’s finest work.

  “Oh,” she said, laughing gently at Gizmo. “You seem to have sat on something . . .”

  Gizmo spun around; a piece of packing tape had become attached to his bottom. He could see big letters on it. “What does it say? What does it say?!” he asked Jilly.

  Jilly stopped laughing. “I must get back to the puppies now,” she said.

  As she walked out of the open back door, her head hung low. Gizmo felt he must have said something wrong, but he didn’t know what. However, he didn’t have time to think it through, as Granny appeared.

  “There you are!” she said, picking him up. “Now, why have you got this stuck on your bottom? You silly sausage! I can see you need a bath.”

  Gizmo snuggled his head next to Granny’s as she carried him up the stairs.

  During bath time, Gizmo thought about Jilly. He was determined to help her. And as Granny wrapped him in his favorite towel, a brilliant idea began to form and he couldn’t wait to tell Jilly about it.

  While Granny slept, Gizmo crept downstairs and into her office. He found a pile of old magazines to sit on and started typing on Granny’s old typewriter. It took him all night to think up words that would catch his readers’ attention. But as the sun rose he was finally finished. He was sure Jilly was going to be pleased.

  After gobbling his breakfast in double-quick time, Gizmo rushed next door. Jilly was just supervising the puppies’ breakfast when he burst in and dropped a piece of paper on the floor.

  “Stop the presses!” he barked. “I’ve had an idea!”

  Gizmo pushed the piece of paper toward Jilly. “Ta-da!” he said proudly.

  Jilly looked blank. “What is it?” she asked.

  Gizmo was a little confused. “It’s a newspaper bulletin, of course! Look at the headline!”

  Gizmo read it out loud.

  “Go on,” said Jilly, lying down to listen.

  Gizmo cleared his throat.

/>   “Puddle favorite Jilly the Irish wolfhound has a puppy problem. Her four puppies—Wolfie, Wilma, Wilfred, and Willabelle—are going to be sent far and wide unless you can help. Stop this tragedy, lend a paw, and help keep Jilly’s puppies within barking distance! Encourage humans with dog-friendly homes to come to Pine Tree Close tomorrow. Find the puppies a home!”

  “Oh, Gizmo!” cheered Jilly.

  “I used some of Granny’s best journalist phrases there, could you tell?”

  “It’s brilliant!” she said. “What’s the blank spot for?”

  “That’s why I’m here. I need a photo of the puppies. I’ve brought Granny’s old Polaroid camera.”

  Gizmo had left it outside the cat door, so as he went to retrieve it Jilly explained to the puppies what was happening. When she was sure they all understood, she licked them into shape and they lined up on the lawn.

  “Three . . . two . . . one . . . say fleas!” Gizmo pressed the button with his nose and the photo shot out of the camera. They all gathered around it, waiting for it to develop.

  “Lovely!” exclaimed Gizmo.

  “What are you going to do now?” asked Jilly.

  “Well, I’ll add this picture to the article and then I’ll use Granny’s photocopier and print off enough copies for every dog in Puddle. I haven’t really thought about how I’m going to distribute it yet, though . . .”