Good Decisions and Otherwise by Little Dog

Chapter One

This Christmas at Holly Cottage was the most joyful the Wright family had ever known, the reason for which was the new addition to their household, an early present that had arrived on the Saturday before, a puppy for their two children, Alfie the eldest at eleven years old and Sophie the youngest at nine.

There are some things in life that are so popular that anyway they pass many by unappreciated, because their familiarity breeds a kind of contempt, and people turn their noses up at the idea of them, rather than try the real thing. Owning a puppy is a little bit like mayonnaise, which many people will never make for themselves because the version out of a jar, which is ubiquitous, is not so very nice. The same is true of baked beans, which are far nicer homemade. This is also true of the most popular pieces of music, the classics that have been used again and again on television adverts or at emotional moments in films, but which, if you play them for yourself, or watch them performed live by the right sort of musician, can recapture their original beauty. A new puppy at Christmas is the same. You must try the real thing for yourself before you understand how magical it can be. I am sad to say that even this story will not do it justice, but please do not turn your nose up at the idea of it, because the young life of this particular dog contains important truths, which I will do my best to recount.

So it was that the wrapping paper of the Christmas presents became the best fun of the day, and all of the things formerly contained within, which were greatly appreciated - jigsaws and goalie gloves, board games and books, a set of water paints - lay about in unattended piles, because the new puppy was playing in the pieces of discarded wrapping paper, running at them, diving underneath them, pushing them across the floor and becoming lost in their midst. All this was much to the amusement of the Wright family, especially the children, before eventually Mrs Wright decided that enough was enough and she had best remove the temptation, lest the new puppy should mistake himself and break one of the family valuables. She put them on top of the dining table on the other side of the room and went back to watching the television, and the young dog sat quietly for a while, but then, somehow, without anyone noticing, he managed to get up onto the table, where he renewed his pursuit of the pieces of paper.

The first anyone heard of it was the soft shattering of a wine glass on the carpet. The family looked and saw the puppy come tumbling off the edge of the table, caught up in some of the wrapping paper. He landed with a yelp.

‘Bad luck’ said Alfie.

‘There's no such thing as bad luck’ said Mr Wright, ‘and you must train your dog not to misbehave.’

Of course the puppy understood that he had done the wrong thing, from the look upon the faces of those he loved, and even though he was only young, he was able to think to himself - but if it was not bad luck that this should happen, then why did it? What other reasons might there be for my misfortune? Am I to blame that it happened? What should I do otherwise?

But all was soon forgiven, for after all it was Christmas. Alfie offered to clean up the broken glass on behalf of the puppy, rather than one of his parents, but Mr Wright would not hear of it, for Alfie might cut himself, and then that would be an end to the quiet content he wished to reside, and soon anyway the afternoon would turn into evening, when at six the neighbours would be over for a drink. With the groan of a middle-aged man after a large lunch he got up. Walking over carefully, he picked up the puppy, who stood mournfully at the back of the room, and who thankfully had not cut himself on the glass, and brought him back for Sophie to hold on to whilst he cleared up.

‘You didn't mean to did you…’ she said, stopping before the end of the question she had thought to ask, because she lacked the necessary noun - the name of the dog in question.

‘We still haven't decided what to call him’ she added.

‘I am too tired to talk about it again’ said Mrs Wright. ‘It will wait until tomorrow.’

‘Why did you do it?’ Sophie asked the puppy.

‘It was a mistake’ she announced, after looking into his eyes.

‘Inexperience’ said Mrs Wright. ‘He has not been taught properly that he should not get up on the table. He did not understand that if you go rushing about without looking what you're doing you can bump into things. He did not know that glasses are fragile and so you must be careful when they are nearby, else you will knock them over. But he is young. He is only a fortnight old. He will learn.’

Of course the puppy had indeed now learnt these lessons, and later on, that evening, when the neighbours came round from next door, he would come too to know of his name.

‘Ah here he is! You've got yourself a little dog’ said Mrs Jenkins the neighbour when she and her husband arrived for their annual glass of port and piece of cheese.

‘I knew you had because I could hear it, and I wanted to come over but then I thought well I'll see them soon anyway. What I didn't know however was how little and how cute he would be. Is it a he? What is he called?’

‘It is a he’ said Alfie, ‘but he doesn't have a name. We can't agree between us.’

‘Oh little dog will have to do then’ said Mrs Jenkins as she sat down by Mrs Wright and put her feet up.

The family never did decide upon a better, and so the name stuck.

Here then begin the adventures of little dog.