A Sheepdog Called Sky E-Book

Helen Peters

• Herausgeber: Nosy Crow
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: The Jasmine Green Series
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Seitenzahl: 84

Beschreibung

The third in a fantastic series of animal stories for younger readers by Waterstones Children's Book Prize-shortlisted author Helen Peters, with beautiful black-and-white illustrations by Ellie Snowdon. A sick puppy abandoned on Jasmine's farm urgently needs her help to survive. And though he adores her, Jasmine doesn't know if Sky will ever trust people again. But it's not until she gets into terrible danger that she finds out... Brilliant storytelling that will make you laugh and cry, this is Dick King-Smith for a new generation. Perfect for readers aged seven and up. Check out Jasmine's other adventures: A Piglet Called Truffle, A Duckling Called Button, A Kitten Called Holly and many more!

Leseprobe

Jasmine scooped the little dog up in her arms and held it close. The puppy opened its amber eyes and looked at her, and the tip of its tail slowly began to wag. The look in its eyes was one of absolute trust.

For my sister Hazel H. P.

For Sarah and Daisy E. S.

Chapter One

A Tiny Whimper

Jasmine and her best friend Tom were shovelling pig feed into a bucket when Jasmine suddenly remembered something.

“Guess what?” she said. “I’m going to be looking after two chinchillas in August.”

Tom’s eyes lit up. “Oh, chinchillas are so cute! Whose are they?”

Jasmine picked up the bucket. “They belong to one of the other vets at Mum’s surgery,” she said, as they crossed the farmyard towards the orchard. “They’re called Clover and Daisy. They’ve got this massive cage and it’s going to go in my bedroom. I can’t wait.”

A large mallard drake waddled across the yard towards them, flapping his wings and quacking. Jasmine laughed as he nibbled at her wellington boots.

“Don’t be jealous, Button,” she said, stroking his silky feathers. “You know you’re the best duck in all the world. And Clover and Daisy are only coming for two weeks. You’re mine forever.”

Tom and Jasmine had rescued Button in the spring, when he was just an orphaned egg on the riverbank. Jasmine had given him his name because his perfectly round eyes looked like two shiny black buttons. He was a fully grown drake now, living happily with the chickens, but he still liked to follow her around the farmyard and be petted.

“Are you getting paid to look after the chinchillas?” asked Tom.

“I don’t know. If I do, I’ll need to give the money to Dad, for Truffle’s feed. She eats so much these days. But that’s the whole point of having animals to board, isn’t it – so that we have enough money to look after rescued animals.”

The two friends were planning to set up an animal rescue centre and boarding kennels when they grew up. The idea had been inspired by Truffle, Jasmine’s pet pig, who was now trotting across the orchard to greet them. She had been a tiny runt piglet on the point of death when Jasmine had smuggled her home from a neighbouring farm and nursed her back to health eight months ago.

Tom tipped the feed into Truffle’s trough and Jasmine scratched her behind the ears as she gobbled the pignuts.

“When are the chinchillas coming?” asked Tom.

“Not until the middle of August. Three weeks to go.”

When Tom had to go home for lunch, Jasmine walked up the farm track with him. Fluffy white clouds perched high in the bright blue sky.

“The sky looks like a painting, doesn’t it?” said Jasmine.

“It’s better than a painting,” said Tom, “because it changes all the time.”

“Like a new painting every day.”

In the field to the left of the track, Jasmine spotted her five-year-old brother Manu and his best friend Ben, crouched by a clump of hawthorn bushes.

“Look what we found!” called Manu.

“Ugh,” said Tom. “That’s creepy.”

It was an animal’s skull, with big eye sockets and a complete set of teeth.

“Look, it still works,” said Ben. He moved the lower jaw to make the mouth open and shut.

“It’s a badger,” said Manu. “We’ve got a leg bone, too. We’re looking for the rest of it.”

“I’m hungry,” said Ben.

“There’s biscuits at home,” said Manu, and they ambled back towards the house.

Jasmine said goodbye to Tom at the end of the track. As she turned to walk back home, a little sound made her stop. Frowning in concentration, she stood still and listened.

The air hummed with insects. Bees buzzed in the clover and butterflies fluttered among the dog roses and rosebay willowherb. In the next field, a kestrel hovered, waiting to pounce on its prey.

I must have imagined it, she thought. She started to walk on. But then she heard it again. A tiny whimper. It seemed to be coming from the hedge.

Jasmine walked back and scanned the thick hedgerow. There was no sign of an animal. She dropped to her knees and looked underneath the hedge.

And then she saw something. A heap of matted black and white fur. Was it a dead animal? A badger, perhaps?

The heap of fur whimpered again. Jasmine moved closer so she could see it properly.

A dog! A little collie, hardly more than a puppy, by the looks of it. But it wasn’t a normal, healthy puppy. It looked barely alive. Its eyes were closed and its bones jutted out beneath the dull, matted fur.

“Hello,” said Jasmine softly. “Hello, little dog. What are you doing under there?”

The puppy whimpered again, but it didn’t move.

“Are you hurt?” Jasmine asked. “Are you stuck? Let me get you out of there.”

She reached in and gently put her arms around the little dog. She picked it up and gasped in shock. It was much lighter than she had expected. Its hip and shoulder bones stuck out from its body, and she could see every one of its ribs under the matted coat.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Oh, you poor, poor thing, you’re starving.”

The puppy lay limp in Jasmine’s arms, taking fast, shallow breaths. She tried to stand it up but it just flopped down again on its side in the grass. It clearly had no strength at all in its legs. It didn’t even seem to be able to lift its head up.

Jasmine looked at her watch. Her mum, who was a vet, would still be taking morning surgery at the practice where she worked, four miles away. Jasmine could phone her and ask her to bring medicines and supplies, but she wouldn’t be able to get back for at least an hour. Dad had gone to collect some new beef calves from a neighbouring farm. Jasmine’s older sister, Ella, was at home, but she wouldn’t have a clue what to do with a sick puppy.

Jasmine scooped the little dog up in her arms and held it close. The puppy opened its amber eyes and looked at her, and the tip of its tail slowly began to wag. The look in its eyes was one of absolute trust.

Jasmine bent down and kissed the top of its head.

“Don’t worry, little dog,” she said. “I’m going to take you home and make you better. You’ll be all right now. I promise.”

Chapter Two

What Have You Brought Home Now?

Jasmine’s heart was beating very fast as she walked home, cradling the dog in her arms. After that one sign of life, the puppy had closed its eyes again and had made no further movement. Jasmine had seen enough sick animals to know that, despite her reassurances, the little dog was very close to death.

The farmhouse was silent as she opened the front door and walked into the hall. There was an empty biscuit tin on the kitchen table. Manu and Ben must have eaten all the biscuits and gone out again.

Cradling the silent, unmoving puppy, Jasmine fetched a pile of clean towels from the airing cupboard and put them on the kitchen table. Then she carefully laid the dog on the towels on his side.

It was a horrifying sight. The little dog, whom she now saw was a boy, was barely more than a skeleton covered with a thin layer of skin and tangled, dirty fur. There were bare patches and sores on his skin where the fur had rubbed off in places, and he also had sores under his tail.

Jasmine took a deep breath. You need to calm down and think like a vet, she told herself. You’ve spent enough time watching Mum at work. What would Mum do now?

If the dog was starving, he was probably also very dehydrated. Gently, she pinched the skin on his neck, as she had seen Mum do. Instead of springing back when she let go, like normal healthy skin would, it stayed puckered up. The dog was extremely dehydrated. She needed to get some liquid into him.

She found a clean dog bowl in the scullery, filled it with water and carried it carefully to the table. She set it beside the dog, but he didn’t move. Gently, she lifted his head and slid the bowl under his mouth, still supporting his head. To her delight, he opened his eyes, put out his tongue and started to lap the water.

“Good boy!” said Jasmine. “Good boy, you’re drinking!”

She held his head until he stopped lapping, and then gently laid it down again. Stroking his ear, she considered him thoughtfully. “If you can drink,” she said, “then maybe you could manage to eat something, too.”

Mum had special canned food for sick dogs at the surgery, but until she came home, the best thing to tempt the puppy would be chopped cooked chicken.

Jasmine opened the fridge. Dad often made himself a chicken sandwich for lunch. Sure enough, there was half a cooked chicken breast left in an open pack on the middle shelf. Jasmine took it out. Dad would have to have a cheese sandwich today.

Taking a chopping board from the dresser, she cut the chicken into tiny cubes and put them on a saucer. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to eat,” she said to him, “but let’s see.”

She lifted his head and slid the saucer under his mouth. To her amazement, the little dog wolfed down the entire lot, licking the saucer clean afterwards. Jasmine smiled at him as she laid his head back down.

“Well done, little one,” she said, ruffling his tangled fur. “You’re doing really well.”

She walked over to the dresser, picked up the phone and dialled the number of the vet’s surgery where her mum worked.