MR. DOGLS AND THE LOST TOYS
Early one Thursday afternoon, Mr. Dogls was woken up by very loud howling. It was still dark outside, there was an hour or two before the sun rose.
“Who could be making such a royal racket?” thought Mr. Dogls, who saw that his friend Benny was still fast asleep. Mr. Dogls sighed, Benny could sleep through anything.
Stretching out on his rug and giving a big yawn, Mr. Dogls decided to go investigate. It took him a good long walk around the neighbourhood to find out that it was Boley, his friend Ruby’s now grown up puppy who was making all the noise tied-up outside their house.
Boley was a plump, black and white dog who loved to eat and really wasn’t much trouble to anybody. It came as quite a surprise to see her chained that day. As far as Mr. Dogls knew, no dog who ever lived in Ruby’s and Boley’s house was ever chained up by its kind, elderly owners.
“What happened?” asked Mr. Dogls wiggling in through the hedge and giving Boley a lick.
“Oh it’s terrible!” howled Boley. “They think I’ve taken the baby’s toys!” The baby, Boley was talking about
was his master’s and mistress’ grandson, a naughty three-year-old who ruled the house ever since he and his parents moved in a few months ago.
“It’s bad enough that the baby never lets me be in peace, but now they think I’ve taken his toys to chew on. I’ve never liked to chew anything except a good bone,” Boley was distraught.
Mr. Dogls felt very sorry for Boley and knew he was telling the truth. Ever since his mother
Ruby went away, Mr. Dogls made sure that Boley was feeling alright and found that the cheerful and kind-hearted dog was always good company.
“Let me have a look around the house, and see if I can find out what happened,” Mr. Dogls said putting his nose to work. He sniffed all around the garden and as close to the house as possible to see if he could smell anything plastic or rubbery.
After a while, in a corner where the household swept up all the leaves in the garden, he came across a smell that was definitely out-of-place. Digging through the leaves he found a few bright coloured balls, matchbox cars, a train set and a few odds and ends buried under them.
Going back to where Boley was tied up he said: “I found the toys, and I think I know what’s happening.” With that Mr. Dogls whispered his plan into Boley’s ear, and Boley shook his head in agreement, promising his friend to see it to the end.
By evening, Boley was scolded one more time and released by his mistress, and the first thing he did was run close to the pile of leaves where Mr. Dogls had asked him to go to and lie there patiently and wait.
It was quite close to sundown when Boley heard footsteps and snapped out of his doze to see exactly what Mr. Dogls had said he would see. It was the baby, running hastily towards the pile of leaves with a toy in his hands. He dug at the leaves and buried the toy, and ran inside again bringing out another.
Boley took the chance and ran inside the house, he found the mistress in the living room chatting with her daughter. He began to pace and bark and nip at her dress, urging her to come outside.
“I think Boley is trying to tell us something,” laughed the daughter. “Let’s see what it is.”
They followed the dog curiously outside and there came face-to-face with the baby, who was digging into the leaves, burying his toys. The baby on seeing he was discovered, scrunched up his face and started to cry. And Boley who was feeling relieved that he wasn’t a suspect any longer, began to feel a little sorry for him. The next morning when Mr. Dogls came to see how everything went, Boley was sitting in the sunshine looking quite peaceful.
“Everything went as you said,” he told Mr. Dogls cheerfully. “The baby was given a sound scolding though I’m afraid.”
“But I think that he won’t ever do it again, and maybe he would stop bothering you too,” answered Mr. Dogls, who decided to have a well-earned nap in the morning sunshine next to his friend.