CHAPTER FOUR

Guard Duty

Fennel was growing into a healthy little girl. She had a short bout of kennel cough when she was four (the doctor diagnosed it as whooping cough but Twiglet knew better). She learned to eat politely around others, but back home she was completely herself, imitating Twiglet as he dug in the soil or rolled in grass cuttings.

Every six weeks or so, Fennel needed to have her hair trimmed. She hated it and usually threw a full-scale tantrum, so one weekend Rosie came up with a plan – if Twiglet went to the hairdresser without a fuss, maybe Fennel would too.

The only problem was that Twiglet didn’t need to have his hair cut regularly like a cockerpoo or a Tibetan terrier – his hair was short and it moulted.

‘We don’t normally get boxers coming in,’ said the receptionist at Dogs’ Delight.

‘I know,’ said Rosie, keeping her voice down. ‘He doesn’t need a cut, obviously, but a shampoo and dry would be great and maybe a nail trim as well?’

The receptionist nodded, and led Twiglet off to start the treatment.

‘Look, darling!’ said Rosie. ‘Twiglet is off to get his hair cut and he’s not making a fuss, is he?’

She led Fennel next door to the hairdresser. ‘You and Twiglet should be ready at exactly the same time. And I’ll tell you what – if you’re a good girl, we can go to the park afterwards.’

Fennel hesitated in the doorway, but as Twiglet was going through the same experience, she figured she had better be brave as well.

‘OK, Mama,’ she said, and trotted inside.

Forty minutes later, they were both ready.

‘Park, Mama,’ Fennel reminded her mum firmly, and it wasn’t long before she and Twiglet were rolling on the cricket pitch, trying to replace the smell of shampoo with that of freshly cut grass.

They were happily scampering around when a strange dog approached. He was a stocky fellow, bluey-grey in colour, with a wide head and a strong jaw. A thin white stripe ran down the centre of his face and his chest was white, as if he was wearing a bib. He was all muscle and must have weighed as much as Twiglet and Fennel put together.

His top lip curled in disgust.

‘My territory,’ he growled.

Sensing trouble, Twiglet moved quickly between Fennel and the new dog.

‘It’s OK. We were just leaving,’ Twiglet explained, as calmly as he could.

But Fennel had no idea what was so dangerous. She knelt down on all fours and crawled towards the new dog.

‘Park for sharing!’ she said in Doggish.

The dog growled angrily.

‘Are you disrespecting me?’ he barked.

‘Fennel, don’t!’ Rosie shouted anxiously. ‘Just leave the nice dog alone and come back over here.

Both Fennel and Twiglet turned to look at Rosie, and at that moment, the big dog opened his huge jaws and launched himself at Fennel.

There was a terrifying blur of teeth as Twiglet threw himself into the path of the attack. In a split second he was on the ground, the muscular dog pinning him down.

The dog’s owner sprinted over, looking shell-shocked as he tried to prize his animal’s jaws apart.

‘Tyson, release!’ he said firmly, as if this had happened before.

After what seemed like an age, Tyson opened his jaws, leaving Twiglet limp and motionless on the ground. Rosie immediately picked him up and carried him to the car, Fennel following behind in speechless alarm.

‘His collar saved him, no doubt about it,’ said the vet. ‘I’ve given him a couple of stitches on the back of his head and some painkillers, and here are some antibiotics he’ll need for the next week, just to make sure the bite doesn’t get infected. He’s a very lucky boy.’

Rosie looked at the teeth marks on Twiglet’s leather collar. If he hadn’t been wearing it, the dog’s teeth would have sunk into his neck. She couldn’t bear to think about it.

‘It’s OK, Mummy,’ Fennel said, stroking her arm. ‘Twiglet’s brave!’

‘Yes, darling. Twiglet is brave. He’s your guardian angel. Now, let’s take him home and get him comfy.’

Fennel didn’t leave Twiglet’s side all night. She held his water bowl up to his face to make it easier for him to drink, and offered him soft, mushed-up food, putting it on the end of her finger so he didn’t have to move.

‘Please be all right, Twiggy,’ she whispered in Doggish. ‘Please be all right.’

Fennel slept beside Twiglet for seven nights. He was very weak for a few days and his wounds were sore, but eventually he recovered. The bond between him and Fennel was stronger than ever.

‘I think Twiglet saved her life,’ Rosie told Uncle James when he came to see the patient. ‘I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been there.’

‘I’d heard about boxers being good guard dogs, but he is something else,’ Uncle James replied. ‘Twiglet really cares about Fennel. He’d do anything to protect her.’