Three weeks later
Scrap’s tail thumped against the floor and he gave a little whine of pleasure as Ashley fondled his head and scratched the soft fur behind his ears. He raised a front paw and scratched the leg of her jeans.
Ashley laughed and stroked his head again. ‘Settle down, boy. I’ve got to finish my homework before we can go and meet Emma.’
He looked up at her, his head cocked to one side. When she didn’t move, he sighed and lay down again.
Ashley slid off her slippers and used her toes to press against his back. He gave a doggy grunt of pleasure.
Downstairs the phone rang and Ashley heard her mother answer it. A long conversation was going on, but she could only hear murmurs.
She shook her head and picked up her pencil again. Homework was nearly done. Then they could get out into the spring afternoon. Dog obedience class was on at midday and she and Scrap both loved it.
She scribbled for a few minutes and solved the maths problem. She clapped her hands and snapped the book shut. Time to go out at last. Scrap woke up and gave an excited bark.
A soft knock came at the door and her mother poked her head around, holding out the phone. ‘It’s Micky.’
Ashley felt a pang of nervousness as she took the phone. Micky had sent the odd email, but she hadn’t called since Ashley had left. ‘Micky?’
‘G’day, Ash.’
Micky’s voice sounded subdued and Ash’s heart sank. ‘Is everything OK?’
Micky sighed. ‘It’s not good to get too attached. I told you that, didn’t I? I’m just a bit upset. I’ll be OK.’
‘What’s happened?’ Ashley asked, hardly daring to breathe.
‘It’s Jemima. I found her this morning, down in the colony. She must have been killed by a dog.’
Ashley didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry, Micky.’
‘Oh, it’s all right. Goes with the territory. Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling. It’s about Dexter.’
‘Yes?’ Ashley’s voice was so tense that Scrap whined and scratched her leg again.
‘I took him back for his vet check yesterday. So far, so good, Pete says. So he’s gone up to Evelyn’s place and she’s putting him in with the other joeys tonight.’
Ashley felt weak with relief. ‘That’s great news.’
‘Thought you’d be pleased,’ Micky said. ‘He’s still got a way to go, but he’s doing well. And he’ll be happy back with his own kind. Joeys always do better in a group.’
‘Good,’ Ashley said.
‘How’s that puppy of yours going?’
Ashley smiled down at Scrap, who banged his tail on the floor again. ‘He’s fantastic. He’s the dog for me.’
‘Good. I’m glad it all worked out. Now listen, Ash, I spoke to your mum about the two of you coming up. She said the Easter holidays next year would be good. And that’s about the time Dexter will go to the first stage of release, if all goes well. So you’ll have a chance to see him before he goes back to the wild.’
‘Really?’ Ashley found herself grinning. ‘That would be fantastic, Micky.’
‘Good,’ Micky said. ‘Look, I’ve got things to do now so I’ll head off, but we’ll work out the details closer to the time, OK?’
‘Bye,’ Ashley said.
She hung up and looked down at Scrap. ‘You’ve been very patient. But now it’s time for a walk!’
Scrap leapt to his feet, barking joyously.
Emma was late for puppy class. Ashley stood waiting until the last possible moment, scanning the carpark, but there was no sign of her.
She joined the puppy class, and managed to calm Scrap so that he was almost walking at her heel when she heard a shout. She looked up to see Emma scrambling out of her parents’ car, tangled up in dog leads.
Bella and Billie tumbled out of the car behind her, barking excitedly, and dragged her across the grass. The three of them joined the class like a cyclone, scattering puppies and owners and creating havoc. It took a good five minutes before Emma had untangled the leads and Emma’s mother had come in to help, taking Billie so that Emma could focus on Bella.
The trainer asked them to halt, face the centre and have their dogs sit. Scrap was excited at seeing his newly arrived friends, but he sat down obediently, though he quivered. Bella and Billie showed no signs of sitting down at all. They pulled at their leads and barked and ran in circles.
Eventually Billie got sick of it and sat. Emma’s mother gave Ashley a smile and a wave. Ashley waved back.
It had worked out pretty well in the end, though the situation when she arrived home from Micky’s was challenging. Emma’s parents had indeed picked up Puppy the day they collected Bella. They had intended all along, they said, to just look after him until Ashley could have him. But something unexpected had happened.
Emma and her parents had come around the first night Ashley got home. They’d left the puppies behind, and sat in Ashley’s lounge room looking guilty.
‘The problem is, we’ve just fallen in love with Billie,’ Emma’s mother said. ‘He and Bella are two peas in a pod.’
‘We think it would be wrong to separate them,’ her father chipped in. ‘They’re devoted to each other. We realise we should have made the decision to buy two puppies from the start so they could keep each other company.’
Ashley’s mother frowned. ‘But Ashley chose that puppy. She’s got her heart set on him. This is an awful thing to do.’
‘We feel terrible about it. But you’d already decided you weren’t going to take him. Someone else would own him by now if we hadn’t collected him.’
‘Why don’t you just choose another puppy from the litter if you want two?’ Ashley’s dad asked.
‘The litter has gone. They’ve all been sold.’
‘I hardly think this is going to be good for the girls’ friendship,’ Ashley’s mother said. ‘Have you thought about that? It’s cruel.’
‘I’m sorry, Ash,’ Emma said, and her lip was trembling. ‘You do understand, don’t you?’
Ashley could see that they all felt bad about it. But not bad enough to change their minds. Rather to her surprise, she felt a rush of relief.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said. ‘I’ve still never met Puppy. I mean Billie. Maybe it’s meant to be.’
‘But Ashley!’ her mother interrupted. ‘You were devastated about losing him.’
Ashley nodded. ‘I was. But it was the idea of him. After all, I’d only seen him on the internet.’
‘Don’t you still want a dog?’ her father asked.
Ashley nodded emphatically. ‘Yes! But it doesn’t have to be Puppy. I mean Billie.’
The two families had looked at each other with dawning relief, and Ashley knew she was doing the right thing. ‘You keep Billie,’ she said. ‘It’s decided. I’m going to find another puppy.’
And she had. Scrap’s photo had been in the local paper the very next week under the heading Home wanted. He had a hairy brown face with a black muzzle and happy eyes. He was a rescue dog — an unwanted half-grown puppy who’d been given to the pound. No one could say what breed he was — scraps of everything, the pound person had said. But he’d turned out to be the best dog in the world. It was as if he and Ashley had been made for each other.
When she finally did meet Puppy — Billie — she knew she’d made the right decision. Oh, he was cute. Really cute. But it was true that he and Bella were inseparable. And she didn’t feel a connection with him. Not the way she did with Scrap.
The puppy class eventually finished and Emma and her mother walked over to join Ashley. The three pups started rolling over each other in the grass and pretending to bite each other.
‘Is your mother going to drop you over later?’ Emma asked.
Ashley shook her head. ‘I’ll walk. As long as you still want to take Scrap now.’
Emma’s mother smiled. ‘No problem. Scrap can come on a playdate anytime. We’re making pizza for dinner, OK?’
‘Great,’ Ashley said. ‘I’ll see you after work.’
She handed Scrap’s lead to Emma, who set off after the three puppies.
‘You’re a good girl, Ashley,’ Emma’s mother said. ‘We’re very grateful there’s no hard feelings.’
Ashley smiled. ‘My aunt said the right dog chooses you.’
She turned away and set out across the park. It had been hard, choosing to give up her Saturday afternoons for this job, especially with a new pup. But they’d worked out a routine: Scrap went home with Emma after puppy class, and Ashley went to Emma’s place for dinner after work. So far, so good, as Micky would say.
Finding the job had been kind of like finding the dog. When she’d walked into the pound and seen Scrap, she’d known he was the right pet for her. Then, when her parents had been paying for him at the front desk, she’d seen the sign: Volunteer carer needed for rescue animals Saturday afternoons 1.30–4.30 pm.
Somehow she’d known it was the right job for her too. She’d only worked twice, but so far it had been a bit like looking after Dexter. You had to give the animals the sort of love that they understood, and be willing to say goodbye to them. She had the feeling she was going to be good at it.
She looked back over her shoulder. All the way across the park, Scrap turned his head and looked at her. Even at that distance, she could see the love in his eyes.
An image of Dexter’s inquiring brown eyes flashed in her mind and she found herself smiling. He was with his own kind now. She wondered if he was happy.
He tests his claws on the bark. It’s still not springy to the touch like the trees he distantly remembers climbing with his mother.
But this one has different smells and when he sniffs the air, he realises there are other koalas close by. He raises his head and sees a face peering down at him.
Hello.
Hello, he replies.
Come up.
He clambers up slowly, his nostrils twitching, until he reaches the first fork. The joey perched there is the same size as him and they touch noses. Another young one scrambles down to join them and touches his nose too.
Where did you come from?
Somewhere else.
Do you want to play?
The first koala bounds up through the leaves. The other follows and Youngster hesitates only a second before bounding up behind them. Before he reaches them in the higher fork, both have leapt across to other branches, and he feels a rush of pleasure as he flings himself into the air and lands, claws spread, below the first one.
The game is fast, and he delights in companions who climb the way he does, who leap and bound, who chase him as high as the top branches and almost to the ground, until the three of them are spent.
Come, the first one says.
The two of them press together in the fork and he clambers in with them, wriggling until all three are bundled together, gripping each other. There is fur against fur, warmth, the scent of koala filling his nostrils. He hasn’t felt like this since he was with his mother.
Do you have a mother? he asks.
No, the first one answers.
What is a mother? the second asks.
One of us, but bigger. She looks after you. Feeds you. Teaches you.
I’m sleepy, the second says. The mother will come to feed us later. Let’s rest.
They both close their eyes, and their heads nod.
Youngster is too excited to sleep. He looks around. In the distance he can see other trees and smell the scents of the forest. He can see the moon slanting up over the hills and the faint glimmer of stars overhead.
The wind, his old friend, is back, caressing his fur and whispering to him of everything that lies out there beyond the tree.
His eyelids droop and he feels himself drawn down into the sleepy warmth of his new friends. Later, they will play again. Later, they will eat. Now, it is time for rest.
His head drops and he leans in to the familiar warmth of fur.