A Puppy Called Hugo

‘You really can,’ I yapped.

Rubbing my nose against each of theirs to bid them all farewell, I watched them scamper away.

Moments later, the sound of a woman shrieking up ahead made us all turn around. To my horror, I saw a young woman being chased around the fountain by a very excitable pup, namely Hugo.

‘Not again,’ Peg groaned. ‘That’s the fourth time this week.’

‘What’s he doing?’ Jake asked in wonder.

‘Every time he sees a woman out running in the park, he thinks it’s a cue for him to join her,’ I explained.

‘Sounds quite a nice thing he’s trying to do,’ Bugsy barked.

‘It does in theory,’ Peg barked wearily. ‘The only trouble is Hugo’s idea of fun is to run and jump up at the poor runners.’

‘Terrifying them out of their wits,’ I finished.

‘Poor runners,’ Heather barked sympathetically. ‘They have enough of a hard time dressed up in those ridiculous outfits, without some puppies going after them, thinking they’re playing chase.’

‘Leave it to me, I’ll sort it out,’ I barked, gearing myself up to it.

Running wasn’t my strong suit, and I would have to work up to it if I had any chance of catching up with my pug, who was now terrorising the poor woman with his antics, while his brothers and sister looked on in astonishment.

‘I’ll go,’ Heather said. ‘Bark some sense into him.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Bugsy barked with enthusiasm, wagging his tail as if to demonstrate his delight.

‘I’ll stay here and watch.’ Jake sighed.

For once I didn’t argue, and as Jake slumped down a few metres away under the shady beech tree, I watched Heather and Bugsy galvanise into action. The two of them rounded on my son in seconds and barked gentle apologies at the poor runner. As my friends led Hugo and the rest of our pups across the park towards Peg and I, their faces full of joy, I sighed.

‘We should appreciate Hugo more while he’s so young,’ I barked wisely. ‘One day, he might not always be so close.’

Peg looked at me in surprise. ‘Where’s that come from?’

I said nothing. Despite his antics this morning, Hugo had shown he had a responsible, caring streak yesterday and although I wanted nothing more than for him to behave and find his forever home, I had selfishly realised that it could happen a lot earlier than I anticipated.

‘Percy, we need Hugo to find an owner. Gail can’t handle him forever, she’s got more than enough on her plate. We always knew this was temporary.’ Peg sighed.

I nodded. ‘I know, it’s just at times I don’t ever want him to leave. I’ll miss him.’

‘I will too, Percy,’ Peg barked quietly. ‘Despite his faults he’s a sweetheart, but the best we can hope for is that he finds a human who he has an unshakeable bond with, like you have with Gail and I have with Sal. Why don’t you just enjoy the here and now? We’re all together, our pugs have great owners, and after yesterday Hugo has the makings of a wonderfully brave little dog, despite what he’s just done to that poor runner. Isn’t that enough?’

I barked nothing, I knew she was right. Whatever lay ahead for Peg, me, our pugs and our families, I just wanted to enjoy this perfect moment of joy while it lasted.

Chapter Nine (#ulink_f4dcf99f-eb85-5e73-bed9-e0cadeee5698)

All too soon the park was a distant memory as Sal returned to her flat together with her brood, leaving the rest of us to troop home to deal with health visitors and vets. As Ben had been a little difficult lately I think we were all expecting him to be fractious when the health visitor arrived. Usually he spent the whole time crying as the poor man performed his various checks and measurements and I usually ended up feeling sorry for the little chap.

Today, strangely, and somewhat pleasingly, Ben was on his best behaviour as the health visitor arrived. Gail of course laid on the royal treatment complete with matching teacups, saucers and posh biscuits, specially purchased this very morning for the occasion.

Thankfully, the visit went well and both Gail and Ben seemed to let out a sigh of relief once it was over. With all the biscuits demolished, largely by Hugo I couldn’t help notice, it was time to get him to the vet.

‘Come on then, Hugo,’ I barked from my position in the hallway. ‘Time for one last check-up with Gemma and then hopefully you can stay out of the vet’s for a bit.’

For once there was silence.

‘Hugo,’ I called again.

Nothing.

I padded upstairs, walked up and down the hallway, poked my nose in Gail and Simon’s room, Ben’s room, formerly Simon’s man cave, and even checked under Jenny’s bed, a favourite hiding place of his, but Hugo couldn’t be found.

‘He’s not in the loo is he?’ Jenny asked desperately, spotting me peeking in her wardrobe.

I turned around and looked at her aghast. ‘Why do you think he’s in there?’

‘I don’t really. I just saw it in a film the other night; he was watching with me. A pair of dachshunds didn’t want to go to the vet so they hid in the loo and got stuck.’

‘Well, dachshunds can be particularly daft,’ I barked loftily. ‘But still, perhaps we’d better check just in case.’

Together, the two of us dashed to the bathroom and fearfully pushed open the heavy wooden door. Thankfully there wasn’t a puppy in the loo, but there was an awful lot of rustling coming from the laundry basket.

Nodding at Jenny, she stood behind me and lifted the lid. Sure enough, an eager little pug face popped out of the basket, looking for all the world like an adorable meerkat. It was all I could do not to roar with laughter, particularly as my boy had his head firmly stuck in a pair of Simon’s boxer shorts.

Jenny had no such manners and, at the sight of my son looking so disgusted by the pants stuck on his head, she burst into a fit of giggles.

As I swallowed my laughter, I shot Jenny a mock reproving look and she managed to recover enough to pluck Simon’s underwear from Hugo. He was so excited to be rid of the offending pants that he bolted out, turning the basket upside down for the second time that day.

The relief on his wrinkly little face as he sat on the floor breathing in great lungfuls of air almost had me in stitches. Thankfully, I managed to restrain myself and instead concentrated on picking up the rest of the laundry. The last thing I wanted to do was encourage him to do this again by letting him know I secretly found it hysterical.

‘The smell, Daddy, the smell,’ Hugo whined between gulps of air. ‘I thought I was going to die, Daddy.’

‘Well you’re perfectly safe now,’ I barked.

‘What were you doing in there anyway?’ Jenny chuckled, as she helped me scoop the laundry back into the basket.

‘I got stuck,’ Hugo explained. ‘I was just practising my climbing and jumping skills but ended up falling in.’

Jenny paused for a moment and looked at Hugo, clearly trying to decipher what he was barking. Although she usually understood me perfectly well, the puppies were a different matter. As he looked at Jenny, Hugo did the thing he knew always made her heart melt and slumped on the floor, head on top of his front paws, and looked up at her with big eyes.

‘Oh, Hugo, we’ll make sure you never end up in the washing basket again you poor thing,’ she said, planting so many kisses on his face, he howled in delight.

I rolled my eyes. Hugo might not have been with us very long, but he had become a master manipulator when it came to human beings.

‘Anyway,’ I barked, moving things along. ‘You’re OK, that’s the main thing.’

Hugo eyed me fearfully as Jenny got up to stand the washing basket back on the floor,