But Where Is The Dog?

While I pushed the board back up the hill with my foot, I decided I was getting a mountainboard. My birthday’s in November but there was a chance I could afford one before then if a lot of people forgot to pick up their pound coins from the swimming lockers. (I have lessons on Saturday mornings. I check the lockers, before and after. It’s easy money.)

What is a mountainboard?

It’s like a skateboard but it’s bigger and the wheels aren’t hidden underneath, they stick out the side. And there are bindings, like on a snowboard, to slip your feet in. That helps you do jumps.

What is a mountainboarder?

A lunatic that loves speed and danger.

‘Great stuff,’ said Marco.

‘Wait till you see me with the dog,’ I said.

‘Dog,’ he said, as though he’d never heard the word before. And certainly never used one as a husky. Or had the lead of one looped round his foot less than five minutes before.

‘Dog,’ I repeated.

A few very bad thoughts smacked me in the face, one after the other: I’d left Doodle with Marco, Marco was standing in front of me, Doodle wasn’t, Marco had lost Doodle, but I’d taken Doodle from Bee, so I was in charge, so I’d lost Doodle.