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Authors: Duncan Ball

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BOOK: Selby Spacedog
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‘So what are these InterPoodle people going to do? ‘Dr Trifle asked.

‘Inter
Pooch.
We’ll know in a minute,’ Mrs Trifle said, looking out the window at the ute with ‘InterPooch’ written on the door. ‘I think they have just pulled up in front of the house now.’

Mrs Trifle opened the door for a man and a woman who quickly flashed their dog-shaped badges at them.

‘I’m Agent deWurming from InterPooch,’ the woman said. ‘This is Agent Leesh. You must be Mayor Trifle and Dr Trifle.’

‘We are,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘How can we help you?’

‘We have a plan to trap these dog-duffers,’ Agent deWurming said. ‘But we’ll need your cooperation.’

‘Certainly,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We’ll help in any way we can.’

‘First we’ll need an extremely valuable dog to use as the bait to trap the international dog smugglers.’

‘We do have some valuable dogs in town,’ Dr Trifle said.

‘Not just valuable,’ Agent Leesh said, ‘but very, very, very valuable. We need a million dollar dog.’

‘I don’t think there’s a dog in Bogusville that’s worth that much,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘How about him?’ Agent deWurming said, pointing to Selby.

Selby felt a warm glow come over him that turned into a blush.

‘She knows a valuable dog when she sees one,’ Selby thought.

‘I know what you’re going to say,’ Agent deWurming added. ‘You’re going to say that he’s just an ordinary, average, run-of-the-mill, ugly, worthless mutt, aren’t you?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t have put it quite that way,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘You’re going to say that he isn’t worth the price of his own dog collar — and you’d be right. But we’re going to pretend that your dog’s a very rare breed of dog,’ Agent deWurming said. ‘Your dog has just become the only Tasmanian Flea-Breeder in the world.’

‘A Tasmanian Flea-Breeder?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Are there any such dogs?’

‘No, I just made them up.’

‘Some dogs are good for leading blind people around,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Others are good at rounding up sheep. What will you say that this new breed is good for?’

‘Nothing,’ Agent Leesh explained. ‘People pay piles of money for useless dogs. We’ll say that your Tasmanian Flea-Breeder sits around breeding fleas and looking ugly.’

‘Ugly,’ Selby thought. ‘Me, ugly? I beg your pardon!’

‘But that’s silly,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Who would want an ugly dog?’

‘Unattractive rich people. They like dogs who are uglier than they are. The dogs make them look good,’ Agent deWurming explained. ‘Now here’s the plan: we tell everyone how valuable your dog is. We spread the story on TV and in newspapers and magazines. Then the dastardly dog smugglers will come looking for him and that’s when we pounce and nab them.’

‘Selby won’t be in danger, will he?’ Dr Trifle asked.

‘Not at all,’ explained Agent Leesh. ‘If we can get the police in on this, they’ll be watching Selby like a hawk. Nothing can go wrong, trust us.’

‘I’ll have a word to the police tomorrow,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘Why is it,’ thought Selby, ‘that I’m getting nervous about all this?’

Two days later Mrs Trifle burst in the door and handed a copy of the
Bogusville Banner
to Dr Trifle.

‘Have a look at this!’ she cried. ‘Selby’s in the newspaper!’

Sure enough, there on the front page of the paper was a picture of Selby and an article that said:

Bogusville’s Million Dollar Dog

Tonight at the annual Bogusville Canine Society’s Dog Show, the eyes of Bogusville and the world will be on Selby, Mayor Trifle’s superdog, the world’s only Tasmanian Flea-Breeder. The question everyone will be asking as Selby struts his way down the dog-walk towards superpoochdom is: ‘Can this little Bogusville battler carry off the double crowns of Best in Breed and Best in Show?’

‘Actually I wrote it myself,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘and now newspaper and TV people from all over the country want stories about Selby.’

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. When Dr Trifle opened it, in rushed a mob of photographers followed by a bigger mob of journalists. All afternoon they asked the Trifles questions and snapped photos of Selby. Following the InterPooch agents’ instructions, the Trifles told everyone that if they wanted a
really good story they should come back to the Trifles’ house just before the show.

That evening, Selby got more and more excited as the time of judging came closer. Agent deWurming and Agent Leesh arrived at the Trifles’ house along with Sergeant Short and Constable Long and a hundred reporters and photographers.

‘We’re here to catch a gang of dog-smugglers,’ Agent deWurming explained. ‘Since Selby is the most valuable dog in Australia, and perhaps the world, we’re going to use him as bait for our trap.’

‘Gulp,’ Selby thought. ‘This bait business is getting kind of scary.’

‘As soon as it’s dark,’ Agent Leesh said, ‘the Trifles will take Selby to the dog show. The smugglers will be watching and waiting for a chance to grab him. Selby will be left unguarded for a while and that’s when the smugglers will swoop. Of course they won’t know that the police are hiding in the bushes ready to nab them. We’ve explained it all to the Trifles. Any questions?’

‘Where will you and Agent deWurming be?’ one of the reporters asked.

‘We’ll be at the dog show keeping watch on the other dogs,’ Agent Leesh said. ‘It’s getting dark now so we’d better be going.’

A short time later Selby watched through the front window as, one by one, the police and the press crawled into the bushes. Soon each bush in the front yard was filled with people.

‘This is it,’ Mrs Trifle said, grabbing Selby’s leash and taking a deep breath. ‘Here we go.’

Selby and the Trifles stepped out onto the front path in total silence.

‘This is really creepy,’ thought Selby. ‘There are people all over the place but I can’t see or hear anyone.’

Dr and Mrs Trifle walked towards the car and then, suddenly, Dr Trifle stopped and snapped his fingers.

‘Drat!’ he said in a loud voice. ‘I just noticed that my socks don’t match. I’d better go back in the house and change.’

‘And I think I’ve left the iron on,’ Mrs Trifle shouted. ‘I’ll go back and turn it off. But first I’ll tie Selby to a tree. We’ll just leave him here unguarded for a few minutes.’

‘I’m sure no one will steal him,’ Dr Trifle shouted back. ‘Even if he is the most valuable dog in the world.’

‘Gulp and double gulp,’ Selby thought as the Trifles went back in the house. ‘I wonder where the dog-nappers are.’

Seconds ticked by and then minutes as Selby watched the street for any sign of movement.

‘When are they going to pounce?’ he thought. ‘I can’t stand this! Come on, smugglers, come and get me!’

Selby shivered in the cold as ten minutes passed. As the excitement began to fade and boredom set in, Selby thought back over what had happened in the past few days. He chuckled briefly as he saw Dr and Mrs Trifle peering out at him from a crack in the curtains.

‘This whole thing is strange,’ he thought. ‘Even the agents’ names deWurming and Leesh sound like made-up names. It’s like some silly story that someone made up. Here I am, old non-valuable Selby, being guarded by hundreds of people while the really valuable dogs at the show have only the two agents to protect them.’

Selby chuckled again and then suddenly a light went on in his head.

‘Hey now, hold the dog show!’ he thought. ‘What if the smugglers don’t come after me? What if they go after the other dogs instead? Hey and double hey! What if those agents aren’t agents at all? What if they’re the real smugglers?
What if they’re using me as a doggy decoy to keep everyone away from where the real dog-napping is happening?! Somehow I’ve got to warn everyone! But how?’

Selby pulled and strained on his leash until his collar broke and he was free.

‘He’s loose!’ someone cried as cameras flashed. ‘The world’s only Tasmanian Flea-Breeder is on the loose. Grab him!’

‘Now to make a dash for it!’ Selby thought as he made a dash for it. ‘And lead them all to the show before any dogs disappear!’

Next thing Selby knew he was running down Bunya-Bunya Crescent being chased by a hundred stampeding reporters. In a second a fleet of cars, including the Trifles’ car and the Bogusville police car, took off after him.

‘They’ll catch me on the road,’ Selby thought as he leapt a ditch and took off across a field, ‘but they can’t catch me here!’

Selby ran through bushes and trees but as he crossed a road the posse of press and police roared towards him. It was when he crossed a second road that he saw a ute tearing along the road in the opposite direction.

‘It’s them!’ Selby cried. ‘It’s the InterPooch ute! The agents are getting away! They’re heading for the airport!’

Selby swung round and tried to leap onto the ute, grabbing the cover on the back in his teeth. But in a second the cover had pulled loose and Selby was rolling over and over in it on the road. When he finally untangled himself the Trifles were standing over him.

‘We’ve got him!’ Mrs Trifle cried. ‘Oh, Selby, why did you run away like that? I guess all the people must have made you nervous. Don’t worry, there’s nothing to worry about now.’

Selby was about to cry out, ‘Let go of me! Can’t you see that the real crooks are getting away?’ when suddenly there was a din of barking from the back of the speeding ute.

‘The dogs from the show!’ Sergeant Short yelled. ‘They’re on the back of that ute in cages! And if I don’t miss my guess, those so-called InterPooch agents are driving! After them!’

As the Trifles picked Selby up in their arms, the police caught up to the agents and quickly had them under arrest.

* * *

Later that night, with the dog show finally judged, Selby and the Trifles went home again and plonked themselves down to watch the chase scene again on the late news.

‘So ends the most exciting dog story ever,’ the newsreader said. ‘And while Selby, the ordinary little dog that stole our hearts, didn’t win Best in Breed, or Best in Show, we have just learned that the Bogusville Canine Society has given him the title of Superpooch Supreme. What a dog!’

‘Gee, golly, gosh,’ Selby said, blinking back a tear. ‘What can I say? I’m speechless.

Paw note: He is, too. Read the story ‘The Shampooed Pooch’ in the book
Selby’s Secret
and see for yourself.

S

BUNGY BUNGLE

‘Why do terrible things always happen to me?’ Selby thought.

It was true. In his short lifetime he’d been squeezed by a huge boa constrictor, pulled up into the air by a rocket, nearly shredded by a weed-shredding robot, trapped in a cave, fallen into a toilet, and Tina the Two-Tooth Tiger had come very close to eating him for lunch.

‘Whenever something terrible is about to happen to me I try to get away. But, when I do that, something more terrible
always
happens,’ he thought. ‘From now on, when there’s danger around I’m not going to try to get away — and then nothing will happen to me. I’ll just sit back, take it easy and go with the flow.’

Selby was just thinking this last thought when he saw the terrible sight of Mrs Trifle’s dreadful sister getting out of her car.

BOOK: Selby Spacedog
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