Lulu and the Dog from the Sea (3 page)

What good dogs
, thought Lulu as she listened. What a lot of cleaning up they had done. People should have been very grateful, she thought.

But people were not grateful. Not even at the Golden Lotus, where the dogs cleared up most of all.

They sent for the dogcatcher.

Two dogcatchers came. A very tall man and a very tall woman. They spoke to the dogs with kind voices.

First they caught the two sisters. They put them in two cages, where they howled and cried so loudly their mother came to rescue them.

That made it easy for the dogcatchers to catch her as well.

Very soon there were three dogs in three cages.

The last of the wild dog family watched in horror. He did not know what happened to a dog after it was caught in a cage. He had never heard of vets or rescue homes or the friendly people who visit them and say, “
That’s the dog for me!
” All he knew was what he saw and heard: his sisters crying, his mother frantic, tearing at the cage.

He watched, but he watched from a distance. He guessed they had a cage for him too, and he was right—they did.

But they could not get him into it.

When the dogcatchers turned to the last wild dog, and spoke in their kind voices, the wild dog ran for his life.

He ran to the sand dunes, and there he hid.

That was how the wild dog became the dog from the sea.

For a long time he would sneak back to the crate pile behind the Golden Lotus, just in case the dogcatchers had changed their minds and allowed his family to come back. But at last he gave up hope.

He lived among the sand dunes, a wild hungry life. He stole all he could, and he ate whatever he could swallow, and sometimes it made him ill and sometimes it made him stronger. He got used to that. He got used to the long thirsty waits to drink from the stream that crossed the golf course or from the kiddie pool near the town. He got used to cold winds and the thorns on the gray bushes, but he never got used to being alone.

The dog from the sea was terribly lonely.

As the weather grew warmer, more and more people came to the beach. Grown-up people and children. The dog from the sea kept away from the grown-ups in case they had cages, but he watched the children. He was tremendously interested in the games they played and the holes they dug and the balls they threw. He watched from the sand dunes, wagging his tail, bouncing with excitement when they yelled at the waves, drooling as they ate their picnics.

When the beach emptied at nighttime he inspected the places where they had been. Sometimes he found a lost toy. These he carried away as if they were great treasures. The sand dunes were dotted with shoes and burst balls and other things he had found.

The dogcatchers did not forget the dog from the sea. Every now and then they would return and try to catch him. They never could. The dog was too good at hiding and the sand dunes were too huge. The little sandy paths wound through them like paths in a maze.

The dog from the sea knew them all. Every tangled path in the grass. Every tunnel beneath the bushes. Every secret sandy hollow. Every lookout place.

One of the lookout places was right above the little white cottage. The dog from the sea depended on the cottage. Roasted chickens lived in the kitchen there, and whole boxes of dog biscuits lay unguarded on the grass.

There was a trash can like a treasure chest too. Sometimes it vanished at night, but sometimes it didn’t. It depended on who was staying in the cottage.

On Saturday night, right before Lulu’s father went to bed, he stepped outside and breathed a deep breath. There was a lovely smell of sea air and short green grass. There was an unlovely smell of something else.

“I’m
not
!” said Lulu’s father. “I’m
just
not! I’m just not taking that
trash can
into the house at night!”

When Lulu and Mellie woke up on Sunday morning, there, right outside the window, was Lulu’s father. He had a trash bag and a pointy stick and Lulu’s seaside shovel for scooping. There was garbage all over the garden—not just the little bit of garbage that Lulu’s family had thrown away, but also everything left behind from the people who had stayed in the cottage the week before.

“The dog from the sea must have come to visit!” said Lulu, and she was pleased.

“He made an awful mess,” said Mellie.

“Perhaps we will have to take the trash into the house at night after all,” said Lulu’s mother at breakfast time, but she wrinkled her nose as she spoke.

“Absolutely not!” said Lulu’s father. “I’ve thought of what to do. I’ll get some big rocks from the beach and use them as weights on the lid of the can.”

“You’re not supposed to do that!” said Lulu. “There’s a sign on the beach that says
No stones or rocks to be taken away.
”

“I won’t take them away,” said Lulu’s father. “I’ll just borrow them for a little while.”

“Will you put them back?” asked Mellie.

“Of course.”

“Carry them right across the sand dunes back to the beach?”

“Absolutely.”

“And put them exactly where you found them? How will you remember?”

“I’ll draw a map.”

“What if someone sees you?” said Lulu. “Even if you draw a map and even if you take them back and even if they’re only borrowed, you’ll still look like a rock burglar!”

For a moment Lulu’s father looked rather sad. He didn’t want to look like a rock burglar. Then he had a good idea.

“I’ll smuggle them! Under my shirt or hidden in a bag! I’ll locate the rocks, draw a map, mark their positions, borrow them—
borrow,
not take!—and then I’ll smuggle them across the sand dunes! And use them on the trash can lid!”

Lulu’s father looked very happy at this thought. He was pleased to have an excuse to do some smuggling on his seaside vacation.

“It will be good for my fitness training,” he said. “I’ve decided to run the next marathon! This vacation I am going to do push-ups and weights and a lot of running. Anyone who likes can come with me!”

“This vacation I am going to read and read,” said Lulu’s mother. “I never get time to read at home. I’ve brought six books, one for each day, and
War and Peace
for a spare! Anyone who likes can borrow the ones I’m not reading!”

“This vacation I’m going to make my kite
perfectly
,” said Mellie. “Every part perfect, like the picture on the box. Anyone who likes can help me!”

“This vacation,” said Lulu, “I’m going to find the dog from the sea, make friends with him, tame him so that he doesn’t run away, and—”

That was as much as Lulu managed to say before everyone started talking at once, saying what a bad idea they thought it was, and how it could never happen, and even if it did, what then? It wouldn’t be kind to the dog from the sea to make friends with him and tame him. He would have to be left behind at the end of the week anyway.

“Why?” asked Lulu. “What about the more the merrier, as long as I clean up after them?”

“That’s hamsters and goldfish and rabbits and things!” her mother told her. “Not dogs! Think of Sam!”

“Sam would hate it,” said Lulu’s father. “He’s an only-dog sort of dog.”

That was true.

Sam could put up with parrots and he really liked goldfish. He didn’t mind guinea pigs. He was only slightly annoyed by hamsters and rabbits.

But dogs he could not stand!

Sam thought dogs were smelly and noisy and greedy. They were his least favorite animals, even worse than cats.

Sam didn’t know, and would never have guessed, that he was a dog himself.

“But who will look after the dog from the sea?” asked Lulu.

“Someone,” said her mother.

“Not us,” said her father, and then both of them said, “Not sensible! Not going to happen! Not even slightly possible!”

Lulu did not argue. She had found that arguing only made people argue back. It was better, she thought, to do exactly as you liked, quietly, with no fuss. Besides, what did her crazy family know about possible and impossible?

As if it were even slightly possible that her father would ever run a marathon!

Or that her mother would read six books in six days ending with
War and Peace
(which she had been trying to read ever since before Lulu was born).