Badger heard a strange scraping sound coming from the lane. He looked out to see Hamish dragging his dinner bowl full of Buddy Bites towards Top Dog’s cardboard box.
That pup learned a lot about kindness in the crystal cave, Badger smiled to himself.
Top Dog looked up angrily then spotted a clothes peg holding Hamish’s ears together. He sniggered to himself.
“What are you up to, Peg Ears? Are you back for another thumping?” growled Top Dog.
“I wondered if you wanted some of this,” said Hamish.
Top Dog’s mouth watered as his eyes feasted upon the overflowing bowl of juicy chunky Buddy Bites, but before he could tuck in, his pride took over.
“What? Eat with the likes of you? Mummy’s Boy, who has to have his ears pegged back while he’s eating? Don’t think so. Beat it!” said Top Dog gruffly.
“It’s a shame if it goes to waste,” ventured Hamish hesitantly. “As for the peg, that was my Big Folk’s idea. The Pet Idol final is tomorrow and my ears keep dangling in my dinner, which I like, because it’s good for afters, but they say it makes a mess.”
“But you’re a dog! Mess is good,” said Top Dog. Then he shook himself and got back to being gruff and tough. “Well, I’ve got to admire your spirit, Fancy Pants. You’ve had a few beatings already, and here you are looking for another.”
“Look, why don’t I just leave it here. If you don’t want it, then maybe the birds will eat it.”
With that, Hamish bounded his way back to the fence to join Badger out of Top Dog’s view. Top Dog sniffed at the food, looked around him then, grudgingly took a few bites … then a few more … then a few more … until he had hungrily wolfed down the lot.
Hamish smiled at Badger.
“Hamish, where are you?” shouted a voice from a nearby garden.
“Oh, that’s my Big Folk, I’d better go,” said Hamish, and trotted home.
Top Dog tilted his head to one side, with a flicker of recognition when he heard Hamish’s Big Folk call him inside.
Even after all these years, he thought fondly, I still think I can hear their voices.
He shook himself; he was probably just being silly. He returned to licking the empty dinner bowl then licked around it again. Only when he was totally sure the bowl had no more licks left, did he sit back and think.
“Could it be possible that my own Big Folk have been right here in the lane, under my nose, all this time?” he wondered.
He shook himself again.
“That’s ridiculous,” he thought “One chinwag with that mystical mutt and I’m getting soppy. I’ll take this back to that daft peg-eared spaniel.”
He dragged the bowl back into the lane and up to the garden where Hamish lived. When he arrived, Hamish asked him timidly:
“Why are you so annoyed about me being in Pet Idol?”
“I hate everything it stands for. All those posh pampered pets and their posh pampered Big Folk. It’s nonsense!”
“But I’m not posh, or pampered, I’m just Hamish with daft ears.”
“You said it!”
“So what’s it all about then?” asked Hamish innocently.
“Stupid pets, stupid judges, stupid prize. Winner takes it all.”
“Prize? What’s the prize? Can I eat it?” asked Hamish excitedly.
“Who says you’re going to win?” sneered Top Dog. “According to the pee-mail I just read, you’re up against Polly Poodle and Treacle the tortoise-shell cat.”
“Then again …” added Top Dog thoughtfully, “against those two, you’ve got a pretty good chance.”
“I like Polly Poodle and Treacle’s one of my best friends.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” said Top Dog, raising his eyes to the sky. “Anyway, since you asked, the prize is a year’s supply of Crunchy Munchy Chewy Chops and your very own personalized dinner bowl. Big Deal!”
“Brilliant!” said Hamish, “although there’s only so many Crunchy Munchy Chewy Chops even I could eat in a year. I’d have to share them out.”
“Why would you want to do that?” asked Top Dog.
“Why not?” replied Hamish.
Top Dog shrugged, turned to leave, then said over his shoulder:
“Thanks for the dinner, by the way. You’re not as bad as I thought.”
“Neither are you,” said Hamish.
“Sssssssssssshhhhhhhhh! I’ve got my reputation to think of.”
As Top Dog headed homewards to his cardboard box, Hamish ran indoors with his dinner bowl, happier than he’d been in a while.
He didn’t trip over his ears once.