Snot Chocolate

  Instead I point to Ernie’s room.

  We go in.

  The other two patients in Ernie’s room are asleep. I assume he is too at first because his eyes are closed and the machines plugged into him are beeping very slowly and quietly.

  Then he opens his eyes.

  He sees me and smiles. Sort of. I can see it’s an effort for him to move even a few face muscles.

  I go over and put my hand gently on his arm.

  It’s all I’ve got now the chips are gone.

  The girl comes over too.

  ‘Hello, Ernie,’ she says softly. ‘I’m Gabby. Would you like a chip?’

  From her coat pocket she takes her small bag of chips and holds it out to him.

  Ernie looks at the chips blankly for quite a while. Then he smiles. A proper smile this time. He takes one.

  ‘Thank you, Gabby,’ he says quietly. ‘Are you a friend of Jackson’s?’

  Gabby looks at me.

  I nod.

  Gabby’s eyes glow softly like the machines around the bed. She turns back to Ernie.

  ‘Yes,’ she says to him. ‘I am.’

  Ernie eats the chip.

  It must be cold but he doesn’t seem to mind.

  I get a chair from the corner and put it next to Ernie’s bed so Gabby can sit down. Then I go and lean against the wall, partly because there’s only one chair, but mostly because it feels like the right thing to do.

  I can’t hear everything Ernie and Gabby are saying, but I don’t mind. The more they talk, the more their faces relax and the more they smile.

  I’m glad just to watch.

  You don’t often get to see two people without much happiness in their lives having some of it right in front of you.

  I realise I’m smiling too.

  It’s not just the pleasure of watching Ernie and Gabby. I’m thinking about everything that’s happened tonight, and I reckon Gabby was pretty smart using chips to forgive potatoes.

  Because Ernie was right all along.

  Chips are magic.

  Maddy doesn’t usually get angry, but she did today.

  ‘Ralph,’ she yelled at me.

  ‘Woof,’ I said, to remind Maddy that if she wags her tail, well bottom, it might help her feel a bit better.

  She was shouting so loudly she didn’t even hear me. Young humans make a lot of noise when they get worked up.

  ‘Spit that out, Ralph,’ Maddy yelled, ‘and don’t ever let me catch you using the dental floss again.’

  She must have spotted some white thread hanging from my jaws. I opened my mouth and the dental floss flopped out. So did a soggy pair of Dylan’s underpants.

  Dylan wailed.

  He’s eight, so he’s very fond of his Spider-Man underpants.

  ‘That does it, Ralph,’ said Maddy. ‘You’re grounded. No sniffing other dogs’ bottoms for a week.’

  Maddy obviously couldn’t see that I was simply trying to help out around the house. That I was on my way to remind Dad he urgently needed to do some shopping because the dental floss had almost run out and Dylan’s undies had developed serious elastic-droop.

  ‘Bad boy,’ Maddy yelled at me.

  I was shocked. Maddy had never called me that before, not ever.

  That’s when I started to realise just how much she’s feeling the stress of Mum being away.

  What happened next showed it even more.

  Both cats tried to slink out of the room.

  ‘Stay right where you are, both of you,’ shouted Maddy. ‘Did we or did we not have an agreement?’

  The cats frowned as if they were trying to remember.

  ‘We agreed,’ said Maddy, ‘that if I found any more dead birds in my sock drawer you would be punished. So, no TV for a month, not even if Animal Hospital has a stir-fry chicken segment.’

  The cats were looking confused. Not surprising, poor things. I’ve tried to tell them, but they still think a dead bird is the best present you can give a person.

  Both the goldfish were smirking.

  ‘As for you two,’ said Maddy, ‘I’ve had enough of your smug insolence.’

  To our horror and amazement, Maddy put the goldfish over her knee and gave them a spanking.

  We glanced at each other, me and Dylan and the cats, and waited for Maddy to realise that spanking isn’t good, plus it wasn’t really working because she had to leave the goldfish in the water and she couldn’t smack the bowl too hard in case it broke.

  I barked a few times, advising her of this.

  ‘Be quiet,’ yelled Maddy.

  Dad came in, just as I hoped he would, and saw what Maddy was doing.

  ‘What on earth is going on?’ he said.

  Dad loves all living creatures. He’s a very kind man. He refuses to eat tuna if dolphins have been caught in the same net. I’m pretty sure he’d refuse to eat dolphins if tuna had in any way suffered.

  ‘Well?’ said Dad.

  Maddy didn’t say anything. Just stared at the goldfish guiltily.

  ‘Alright, everyone,’ said Dad. ‘Calm down. I know this isn’t easy, Mum being away. But we’re all doing our best.’

  Maddy gave him a long look.

  Then she said something that helped explain why she was behaving so unlike the Maddy we know.

  ‘Dad’ she said. ‘We know you’re trying your best, and we love you, and we know Mum asked you not to let the house get messy, but is it really necessary for you to be the most painfully organised dad in the whole world?’

  Dad frowned at her.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he said.

  ‘The lists,’ said Maddy. ‘They’re stressing us out. Why can’t you do anything without making a list? What other parent needs a list before they do the gardening?

  (1) gardening gloves

  (2) gardening hat

  (3) lawn mower

  (4) lawn.’

  Dad was still frowning.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I just want you to feel the house is in safe hands.’

  ‘We want to feel that too,’ said Maddy. ‘Right, Dylan? Right, Ralph?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Woof, ’ I replied.

  ‘But Dad,’ said Maddy. ‘Can’t you see? The more mega-organised you get, the more nervous we get that deep down this is all too much for you. Look at the way you put food into the fridge in alphabetical order. If Mum doesn’t come home soon, I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.’

  Dad didn’t say anything else for quite a few moments.

  Just kept on frowning, concerned and sad.

  Then he perked up.

  ‘I think we all need a day off,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to the zoo.’

  Dylan and Maddy looked stunned.

  Today was a school day, and a work day for Dad.

  ‘Come on,’ said Dad. ‘Car leaves in ten minutes. Ralph can come too if he stays in the backpack.’

  Maddy opened her mouth as if she had more to say.

  Then she changed her mind, and she and Dylan ran off to get ready.

  Dad picked me up and tickled my tummy. But he wasn’t grinning like he usually does when he tickles me.

  ‘Wish me luck, Ralph,’ he muttered.

  He put me back down and went off to get ready himself.

  I watched him go. I had a heavy lump in my tummy. It wasn’t a fur ball, or one of those white balls you eat when you go to a golf course.

  It was a ball of anxiety.

  I took my own advice and wagged my tail to calm myself down.

  Chill, I said. There’s nothing to worry about. We’re just going to the zoo for a fun day out.

  Woof.

  I love the zoo.

  When you live in a house with humans, you don’t get to meet many other creatures from the wild. Meeting noble creatures from the wild makes my heart soar with pride. It makes me feel a bit noble and wild myself, even if I am wearing a crocheted tartan doggy smock.

  Trouble is, dogs aren’t allowed to run aro
und at the zoo. They’re not even meant to be there. Which is why I had to stay in Dylan’s backpack.

  Oh well, at least it gave me time to do my diary.

  People think dogs don’t keep diaries, but we do. In our heads. It’s quite hard work. That’s why we spend a lot of time panting. Having your tongue out cools your brain down.

  I wish humans knew how to do that. Maddy could have done it today during the dental-floss incident. And at the zoo when Dad sat her and Dylan down for a little chat.

  ‘You’re probably wondering,’ he said to them, ‘why I’ve brought you here.’

  ‘Dad,’ said Maddy. ‘This is the zoo. There’s only one reason people come to the zoo.’

  ‘To look at animals,’ said Dylan. ‘And have ice-cream.’

  I peeked out from the backpack, hoping Dad would say, spot on, that’s it, absolutely right.

  But he didn’t.

  He seemed to be having trouble getting the next lot of words out.

  ‘Except,’ said Maddy to Dad, ‘last time we were here, we did spend quite a lot of time trying to get your camera back from that orangutan.’

  The kids both chuckled at the memory.

  Dad wasn’t chuckling. I could see he had something serious to say and wasn’t sure how to say it.

  I growled a couple of times, softly, to encourage him to spit it out, whatever it was. The birds and animals chattering and screeching and grunting around us all agreed.

  ‘Tell them,’ snorted the zebras.

  ‘You can’t pull wool over kids’ eyes,’ screeched the toucans.

  ‘Only a fool would try,’ grunted the hippos. Though that might have been, ‘Only a fool would try to get an orangutan to take a photo of him and his family.’

  Both Maddy and Dylan were looking at Dad, concerned.

  ‘Are you alright?’ said Maddy.

  ‘Would you like a lick of my ice-cream?’ said Dylan. ‘When you’ve bought it?’

  ‘Mum rang late last night,’ said Dad. ‘I’m afraid she’s going to be away longer than we thought.’

  Maddy and Dylan stared at him.

  ‘Longer?’ said Dylan.

  ‘How much longer?’ said Maddy.

  They both looked so shocked, I wanted to hug them. But dogs can’t hug. We can only lick. And it’s a bit hard when you’re in a backpack.

  I did my best with Dylan’s ear.

  ‘Grandad’s not getting better as quickly as we’d hoped,’ said Dad quietly. ‘Mum will tell you about it tonight when we skype, but she could be away a few more months.’

  Maddy and Dylan were looking at Dad in horror.

  My stomach was knotted. Over my left shoulder I could hear a pale-throated sloth regurgitating its lunch. I knew how it felt.

  ‘A few months?’ said Maddy.

  Dad nodded.

  Everything went very quiet. Even the sloth.

  ‘I want to go to Scotland,’ said Maddy. ‘I want to be with Mum and Grandad.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Dylan.

  I didn’t woof ‘me too’ because I knew what Dad’s reply would be. Plus when dogs fly they have to spend weeks in a cage with only suitcases to talk to.

  Dad sighed.

  ‘I’m sorry, loves,’ he said. ‘We can’t afford it.’

  Maddy glared at him.

  I knew what she was thinking.

  Sell the car. Sell the house. Sell Dylan’s Lego.

  But she didn’t say any of that because she knew it was impossible. There was school to go to and work to do and me to feed.

  Dad struggled to put on a cheerful face.

  ‘It’s not the end of the world,’ he said. ‘We’ll still skype with Mum every day. And maybe it’ll only be one or two months.’

  Poor Dad.

  I knew that despite his brave face his heart must be heavier than a buffalo’s bum flap.

  Maddy and Dylan looked like theirs definitely were.

  ‘Sometimes,’ said Dad, still struggling to sound positive, ‘every family has to be apart for a while. Like those kids at your school who live with their father.’

  ‘Their mum’s dead,’ said Maddy.

  ‘Oh,’ said Dad.

  ‘And it’s easier for them,’ said Dylan. ‘Their dad’s got an apartment with a swimming pool and a housekeeper and a speedboat.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Dad.

  I’ve never heard him sound so miserable.

  Poor humans. They’re always worried that other humans are better than them. Dogs don’t have that problem. It’s because we’re allowed to sniff each other’s bottoms.

  ‘I know how hard this is for you,’ said Dad to Maddy and Dylan. ‘I wanted to soften the blow a bit. That’s why I brought you here today. To your favourite place.’

  ‘Too see the animals,’ said Maddy. ‘And take our minds off the fact that we’re living with a parent who uses a tape measure to make toast fingers.’

  Dad looked hurt. But he knew it was true.

  ‘I’ll get some ice-creams,’ he mumbled and hurried away towards the kiosk.

  Maddy took me out of the backpack and buried her face in my fur.

  ‘Oh, Ralph,’ she sobbed. ‘I don’t want months without Mum. I miss her. It wouldn’t be so bad if Dad would just relax and be a normal dad, instead of trying to be so ridiculously organised and tidy.’

  ‘I don’t want him to buy me new undies,’ wailed Dylan. ‘He’ll buy organised ones.’

  ‘We can’t even tell Mum,’ said Maddy. ‘She’ll worry.’

  I was tempted to offer to bite Dad’s bottom, not hard, just enough to snap him out of it. But I knew Maddy and Dylan wouldn’t be comfortable with that, and Dad definitely wouldn’t.

  ‘Dad used to be so relaxed and confident,’ said Maddy. ‘Before Mum went. I want that Dad back.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Dylan. ‘I’m scared to eat the toast fingers.’

  I had an idea. Perhaps I could just gently pull a few of Dad’s leg hairs out with my teeth.

  Then I had a better idea.

  Of course.

  I wriggled out of Maddy’s arms, jumped to the ground and without looking back, I ran.

  It was risky. I’d heard rumours that if zoo keepers catch dogs running around the zoo, they feed them to the pythons. But it was worth the risk.

  I reached the lion enclosure and stuck my head between the bars.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I woofed to a magnificent male lion from the wild who was stretched out in the sun. ‘Could you do me a favour? In a few moments a couple of human kids will arrive. Could you demonstrate how in the natural world daddies are very good at looking after children? Just be big and strong and kind and gentle, but very fierce when it comes to protecting cubs.’

  The lion gave me an unfriendly stare. He didn’t look like a creature who did many favours. Not kind and gentle ones.

  I peered around, trying to see his family.

  ‘Where are the cubs?’ I asked the lion.

  At the back of the enclosure was a cave. Perhaps they were inside, watching TV or chewing on a wildebeest.

  A female lion came out of the cave.

  ‘The kids are in a separate enclosure,’ she growled. ‘So Daddy Big-Chops here won’t eat them.’

  I stared at her, horrified. What sort of psychopath was she married to?

  The female lion rolled her eyes.

  ‘Don’t ask,’ she growled. ‘They all do it. Quirk of nature, they reckon. They don’t mention it when they first ask you out, of course.’

  I heard yells and saw Maddy and Dylan sprinting towards me.

  ‘Sorry to bother you,’ I said to the lions, and dashed over to the elephant compound.

  ‘Quick,’ I barked at a herd of elephants. ‘All you dads. Look loving and capable. I want these kids to see you and think, behold the mighty elephant, reliable and patient and never forgets a birthday.’

  Several female elephants gave me a look.

  ‘They may never forget a birthday,’ said one, ‘but they usually forget th
eir kids. Last year one of the big boofheads rolled over and squashed a few to death.’

  I gave the mummy elephant a cross look. Honesty is good, but there’s a time and a place.

  ‘If you want to see the champion dad of the natural world,’ said another female elephant, ‘try the insect pavilion. There’s a beetle in there that eats its own poo so his kids won’t catch germs from it.’

  That sounded promising, but I wanted Maddy and Dylan to see that big creatures, human-size ones, could be good daddies too.

  Maddy and Dylan were very close.

  I veered over to the hippo pit.

  ‘Guys,’ I said. ‘Please. Work with me. Be good dads.’

  Maddy and Dylan arrived, panting and angry.

  ‘Ralph,’ yelled Maddy. ‘What are you thinking? You know you don’t run off like that. Bad boy.’

  I winced, then pointed my nose towards the hippos.

  We all looked at a large male hippo lying in a pool of mud. Unfortunately he didn’t look like a great parent. He wasn’t cuddling his kids, or giving them tips on personal hygiene, or listening to their problems, or training them in their chosen sport, or helping them with their homework. Forget being relaxed and spontaneous with toast fingers, he didn’t look like he knew what a toast finger was.

  ‘His kids are over there,’ said Dylan. ‘He growls at them if they try to get close.’

  This wasn’t what I’d hoped for.

  The only individuals the daddy hippo would allow near him were some white birds with long beaks who were clambering all over him, eating things off his tummy.

  ‘He’s organised them,’ said Maddy, disgusted. ‘To groom him. Pick fleas off him while he has a snooze. Trim his dry skin. Make him all neat. That’ll be us soon, forced to collect our dad’s dandruff and count it.’

  Dylan gave a groan of despair.

  I felt like groaning myself.

  I could see Dad heading towards us, ice-creams safely cradled in his hands. Nobody organises ice-creams better than Dad.

  Sometimes, when you’re desperate, you don’t think, you just act.

  Well, we dogs do.

  I squeezed between the bars of the enclosure and flung myself down into the hippo pit.

  The mud was deeper than it looked. And stickier. And smellier. And the hippos’ teeth were yellower than they looked, and more crooked, and much sharper.