At the sight of the tortoise in trouble, Mr Dog ran forward, raised his hackles and bared his teeth, a low warning growl building in his throat.
The fox jumped, startled by his arrival, the tortoise still clamped between his teeth.
‘Put the tortoise down,’ said Mr Dog.
‘Oh! Sorry. Do you want to play with it too?’ The fox tossed the tortoise through the air and it landed on its back beside Mr Dog. ‘There you are! Now you pass it back to me. Go on! Go on!’
Mr Dog ignored the fox, studying the poor tortoise for injuries. It was still alive, though its shell was badly scratched. Its back legs looked to be injured, pulled back in the shell as far as they would go. An address – 12 Bankbrook Street – was written in paint on the underside of the shell.
That’s not far from Minnah’s house, thought Mr Dog. Gently, he turned the tortoise the right way round with his nose.
‘Go on, pass it to me!’ The fox was almost bouncing with excitement. ‘My name’s Ferdy. What’s yours? Come on! I’ll give it back, I promise.’
‘This isn’t a toy, Ferdy. It’s a pet tortoise!’ Mr Dog stood in front of it protectively. ‘You’ve hurt it.’
‘Me?’ Ferdy shook his head. ‘No! It was like that when I found it!’
‘Oh, yes? And where did you find it?’
‘Round the corner. It was lying in someone’s garden,’ said Ferdy.
‘Well, my name’s Mr Dog, and the D-O-G might stand for Defender Of Gardens!’ He gave Ferdy his sternest look. ‘This isn’t the wild, you know. You can’t go around helping yourself to people’s pets.’
‘Sorry, Mr Dog. I should’ve realised it was a pet.’ Ferdy looked sad, his moth-eaten tail slunk between his legs. ‘I’m an urban fox. I used to live around here, but lately I’ve been far away.’ He brightened. ‘Still, now I’m back in town! Oooh. Wait. Ooooooh. What do I hear?’ He put his ear to the ground. ‘Earthworms! Yum.’ Straight away, Ferdy started digging at the grass, clawing worms from the muddy hole and guzzling them down. ‘Mmm, delicious.’
Mr Dog frowned. ‘Ferdy, stop. You’re ruining this lawn!’
Ferdy took no notice, lost in the delight of earthworms. Then Mr Dog’s attention was taken as the tortoise started to rock beside him. ‘Shelly?’ came its croak of a voice. ‘Shelly, are you there… ?’
‘Crawly!’ Mr Dog put his nose to the shell. ‘Is that you, Crawly?’
‘Yes!’ Crawly pushed out his frightened head and nodded. ‘Oh, what a terrible time I’ve had! Please, help me!’
Mr Dog carefully picked up the tortoise in his jaws. With a last glare at Ferdy, he carried Crawly through the hedge and then ran back to Minnah’s house. His poorly paw throbbed a little, but Mr Dog didn’t slow down. He knew Crawly needed help as soon as possible.
‘WUFF! WUFF! WUFF!’ Mr Dog barked at the back door and scratched at it with his good front paw until Minnah came down in her dressing gown.
‘Oh, boy, however did you get out through that catflap?’ she began. Then she saw what Mr Dog was holding. ‘Oh, no!’
‘It wasn’t me!’ Mr Dog whined, and put Crawly down at Minnah’s feet, then pressed himself against her legs. Minnah quickly scooped up the tortoise and turned on the light. ‘Twelve Bankbrook Street,’ she read aloud. ‘Same address as on Shelly here.’ She then looked back down at Mr Dog. ‘I don’t know what happened out there, boy, but you found Crawly!’
‘Mr Dog!’ Shelly was up and bright-eyed at the bars of the carry-case. ‘You’re a genius! You found the old stinker.’
‘Cheeky!’ Crawly called.
Mr Dog wagged his tail proudly as Minnah fed him a dog treat. Then he curled up in his basket and licked at his paw while his pet owner used her phone to call her vet friend.
‘I’m sorry to wake you,’ she said. ‘I’ve found that missing tortoise and he’s been in the wars. There are some nasty scratches on his shell, but I don’t know what made them. There are no teeth marks, but his back legs are hurt. Please, can you come over?’
‘Poor Crawly,’ said Shelly softly. ‘I hope he’ll be all right.’
‘So do I,’ said Mr Dog.
Minnah’s friend the vet soon arrived. She examined Crawly on Minnah’s dining table and confirmed that the tortoise had had a lucky escape. One of his back legs was swollen, and the other looked to be broken.
‘I’m sure Crawly will make a full recovery,’ the vet said, ‘but I’ll need to get X-rays before I set his leg. I’ll take him in now.’
‘Nice early start for you,’ Minnah joked. ‘Sorry! What do you think took Crawly?’
‘A fox is the most likely suspect.’ The vet smiled down at Mr Dog. ‘At least we know who brought him back! Though how he found him out there will always be a mystery.’
‘I should change my name to Mystery Dog,’ said Mr Dog with a sleepy smile. But there was one mystery that was keeping him awake: Ferdy the fox. Where had the fox been, so far away? Had he been telling the truth about Crawly being hurt before he’d found him?
If so… who had really taken the timid tortoise?
Mr Dog didn’t know. But he was determined to find out!