––––––––
The flames spread with frightening speed, crackling and popping as they licked their way across the room. Honey could feel the heat from the fire already breathing in her face. Drool filled her mouth in a panicked gush and leaked from her lips. She took a step back. The fire advanced, greedily feeding on the cardboard boxes and old furniture, growing bigger and bigger.
“We’ve got to get to the door!” cried Suka next to her. “If we don’t move soon, we’ll be trapped in this corner.”
Honey took a deep breath, her heart pounding, and plunged to the right, where she had seen a gap between the flames. She stumbled, trying to see where she was going, coughing as the smoke suddenly blinded her. She felt a sudden shock of pain in her right paw as intense heat closed around it, like a bite from burning teeth. She cried out and stopped.
“Keep going!” Suka said from behind her.
Honey staggered forwards and came out of the flames, finding herself suddenly on the other side of the room, beside the door. Tiffany and Dior were there, still struggling with each other. Honey went to the door and pawed desperately. It stayed firmly shut. She whined and pawed again, her tail between her legs. The fire roared behind her. The heat in the room was getting unbearable. Panic fluttered in her throat like a trapped bird. We have to get out!
“The handle! Try the handle!” Biscuit jumped up and pawed wildly at the door handle. It turned slightly, but the door did not open. He tried again. Nothing. The door must have jammed when it slammed shut with such force.
Behind them, the fire roared again, and suddenly there was an explosion. All the dogs crouched and ducked as the air filled with the sound of shattering glass.
“What was that?” yelped Suka.
“The skylight,” said Honey, looking upwards. The square piece of glass in the ceiling had exploded, leaving a gaping hole where they could see the night sky. Honey looked longingly up at the hole. If only they could get out that way!
The fire seemed to be growing even bigger. It was almost as if the fresh air coming in through the gap in the ceiling was feeding the flames, turning them into a raging inferno. Honey coughed as more smoke filled the room. Her eyes were watering so much she could hardly see.
“We’re all going to die in here if we don’t get this door open!” Suka pawed frantically at the door again.
Biscuit raised his nose to the sky and began to howl. It was an awful, chilling cry for help. Suka joined in—her mournful Husky howl rising higher and higher. Honey hoped desperately that the humans could hear them.
She turned back to the door and threw herself at it again, but this time, instead of pawing the handle, she attacked the bottom corner with her teeth. She had heard of Great Danes chewing up entire walls and doors when left home alone. Well, maybe it was time she channelled a bit of Separation Anxiety. She dug and pawed and bit and chewed, wincing as she felt wooden splinters pierce her skin. Then she felt something give. She grabbed the edge of the door even harder with her teeth and pulled with all her might. There was a sudden crack and a splintering sound and then the door yanked open, crooked on its hinges.
“Honey! You did it!” Biscuit jumped up with delight.
They all staggered out, choking and gasping as black smoke billowed out of the door behind them. They collapsed on the floor a few feet away, panting harshly. Honey was suddenly aware of a throbbing pain in her right paw. She looked down—it had been badly burnt, the skin showing raw and tender, some parts bleeding. It must have been when she was walking through the flames and felt that sharp, hot bite of pain. She tried to lick it and winced.
Faintly in the distance, Honey could hear the sounds of humans shouting and dogs barking ... then a high wailing sound which echoed Biscuit and Suka’s earlier howling.
“Sirens,” said Suka. “Fire engines. They’re coming to put out the fire.”
Honey sighed and relaxed. Help was coming. But it’s OK, she thought, dropping her head down wearily and looking around at the others. They had all gotten out safely already.
Wait.
She looked around again, her heart suddenly jumping in her chest.
“Where’s Ruffster?” Honey sprang up.
“Ruffster? I thought he was with us ...” Suka looked around, her eyes starting to widen in alarm.
Dior sat up next to his sister, who was slumped over, her eyes glazed. He looked with concern back through the door. “Is he still inside?”
“Oh, mon Dieu—Ruffster is inside! He is still in the fire!” Colette whimpered, struggling to stand up.
“NO!” Honey cried, trying to run towards the door. Pain shot through her burnt paw and she gasped as she fell onto her side. She tried to stand up again, but she could barely put her weight on her right paw.
“The humans are coming,” said Biscuit weakly. “They’ll rescue him—”
“There’s no time to wait for the humans,” said Dior. “We have to get him out now.”
“Wait—” said Suka.
But he was gone. Without a backwards look, he charged through the doorway and was lost in the blaze.
“Dior!” screamed Tiffany, scrabbling to push herself upright.
Honey hobbled to the door, followed by the others. They peered anxiously into the fire, coughing as smoke rolled out through the doorway. They could see nothing except raging orange and yellow flames and columns of black smoke rising up and out through the gap in the ceiling.
Then Honey saw a movement to the left. It was Dior! He was sniffing something on the floor ... a slumped form half buried under a pile of rubble. Honey saw the one upright ear, the scruffy tufts of fur. Ruffster.
Dior reached down, grasped the mongrel mutt by his scruff, and tugged. Ruffster’s body heaved and rolled out from under the rubble. Dior paused to get a better grip with his teeth, then tugged again, pulling Ruffster’s body with him as he started making his way back towards the doorway.
“He’s got him!” Suka wagged her tail with delight.
Honey watched tensely as the big Afghan pulled her friend’s body slowly towards safety. A stack of cardboard boxes crumbled next to them and went up in flames. Two wooden chairs which had been stacked on top of one another suddenly toppled as fire engulfed them, falling perilously close to Dior in a shower of sparks which singed his silver coat. The big Afghan blinked, but didn’t pause as he continued hauling Ruffster towards the doorway.
As he neared them, Biscuit and Suka sprang forwards through the doorway and grabbed hold of Ruffster too, helping to pull his limp body through. Finally, they were all out and collapsed again on the floor.
Honey heard screams and shouts behind her and turned to see the arena door thrown open and humans running in. She felt hands reach for her, hug her, guide her gently out of the arena. All around her, there was shouting and men in yellow helmets and shiny yellow coats carrying long hoses. Then she smelled water. She turned to look back just before she was led out of the arena door. Huge jets of water were shooting out of the hoses and into the storeroom doorway, dousing the fire.
Outside, Honey took a deep breath of the fresh night air and gave herself a good shake. Olivia rushed over and smothered her in a hug, crying and sobbing. Honey closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of being hugged close. She opened her eyes and looked around to see that her friends were being reunited too. Biscuit was squirming happily in his Missus’s arms; Suka was up on her hind legs, her front paws on her Boy’s chest, licking his face ecstatically; Colette was being crushed by Marie in a tearful hug; and the Afghan Lady had both her arms around Tiffany and Dior.
Then she saw Ruffster’s Guy crouching next to a man with a yellow helmet, both of them bent over the limp form of her friend. They held a clear plastic cone, with a tube connected to a small cylinder, over Ruffster’s nose and mouth. Her heart clenched as she saw their grim expressions.
Oh no.
Then she saw Ruffster’s Guy begin to smile—and saw the mongrel mutt’s chest rise and fall. They’re helping him breathe, she realised. Gradually, her friend began to stir and open his eyes. They held the plastic cone to Ruffster’s face a few minutes longer, then slowly let him sit up. Ruffster’s Guy reached for him and held him close, burying his face in Ruffster’s scruffy fur.
Honey sighed and relaxed. This time they all really were safe.
When Olivia let her go, Honey hobbled slowly over to Ruffster, who was looking around in a daze.
“What happened, mate?” he demanded.
“Some of the stuff in the storeroom caught fire. Oh, it was horrible, Ruffster.” Honey gulped. “You got knocked out and we didn’t realise you were still in the fire. Then Dior went back in to rescue you and we thought—”
“Dior?” Ruffster turned his head and stared at the big Afghan who was standing a few feet away. “Dior rescued me?”
“Yes,” said Honey softly. “He risked his life to save you.”
Ruffster got slowly to his feet and wobbled over to Dior. He stared in dismay as he got close. The big Afghan’s coat was completely ruined—the silver hair had been burnt away in many places and blackened in others. Even the long hairs around his face had been singed, so that there was nothing left but a few ragged strands.
Ruffster shuffled his paws. “Thanks, mate, for saving my life.” He paused, then added, “Sorry about ... earlier ... you know, the stuff I said ... thinkin’ you were up to no good—”
“I should apologise too.” Dior inclined his head. “My behaviour hasn’t been commendable either. I ... I can be too arrogant at times.”
“Mate ...” Ruffster hesitated. “Your coat ...”
Dior shrugged. “It’ll grow back.”
“But the show ... what about the ‘Best in Show’ title tomorrow?” asked Ruffster. “You can’t win it now!” He stared at the big Afghan. “You gave up your chance ... for me?”
Dior looked at him evenly. “There will be other chances to win. But there is only one you.”