A Puppy Called Hugo. Fiona Harrison

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      ‘Very funny!’ Jenny grumbled, sitting at the table to drink her tea.

      ‘I thought so.’ Gail continued to chuckle.

      Once Ben’s breakfast had been heated, Gail sat at the table and spooned the purée into his open mouth. With Hugo still eating, I let Jenny scoop me up and I sat contentedly on her lap while she fondled my ears. As I basked in her attention, all thoughts of my troublesome start to the day were forgotten, until Gail opened her mouth to speak.

      ‘So, are you all right if I take you along at about seven tonight, Jen, after I’ve taken Hugo to the V-E-T for his check-up?’ Gail quizzed.

      At the mention of the dreaded word, both Jenny and I inhaled sharply. Just the hint of a trip to the vet’s meant Hugo had a tendency to create havoc all day until his visit was over. He would hide under sofas or in cupboards, and lately had even taken to hiding in the garden shed when a visit to the vet’s was imminent.

      Hugo’s ingenuity was impressive. Yet I knew it was vital Gemma examined him properly to make sure there was no lasting damage following the feathers, potpourri and candle wax incident.

      ‘Yes, Mum, that’s absolutely fine, thank you,’ Jenny said quickly. ‘What are you doing today?’

      ‘The health visitor’s popping over to give Ben his nine-month check this afternoon.’

      Jenny raised her eyebrows as she leant over to pinch Ben’s cheeks. ‘How is this little monster nine months old already?’

      Gail laughed. ‘I say the same thing about you! How on earth are you fourteen all of a sudden? You were two weeks old yesterday.’

      ‘I’m only just fourteen,’ Jenny said helpfully, taking another slurp of her tea. ‘If that makes you feel any better?’

      ‘It really doesn’t, and no doubt I’ll be saying just the same thing about this little one when he’s fourteen.’ She smiled.

      I looked at Ben sat in his high chair. He was happily eating his breakfast, purée all over his face as he gurgled and banged his fists on the little white table in front of him. Even though he was definitely wearing more of his breakfast than was in his mouth, he still looked strangely adorable and a part of me was as excited to see how Ben would turn out. I already knew I liked him. After all, he was fun most of the time, especially when he wasn’t crying.

      ‘And then this morning I’m going shopping with your granddad.’ Gail continued, raising another spoonful of fruit purée into Ben’s giggling mouth, ‘he wants me to take him jewellery shopping. It’s your grandparents’ golden anniversary soon and he wants to get your gran something special.’

      ‘Awww,’ Jenny squealed. She clapped her hands excitedly, making baby Ben copy the move. ‘I take it Gran has no idea then?’

      Gail shook her head. ‘No, she thinks we’re going out together while she’s at yoga this afternoon to get him some more crossword and Sudoku puzzle books or something, keep his mind active.’

      ‘His mind is active.’ Jenny frowned, her long fringe hiding her eyes. ‘Granddad’s always busy doing something. If he’s not playing golf, he’s in the allotment, volunteering in the homeless shelter or playing bowls or dominoes in the pub with his friends.

      ‘But those were all things he did in Barnstaple, love. Your gran’s worried that since the move he’s getting forgetful. To be honest, what happened yesterday shows you she’s probably got a reason to be.’ Gail sighed.

      ‘I don’t see how Sudoku and crossword puzzles are going to keep Granddad from forgetting his mates aren’t around any more,’ Jenny pointed out, not altogether unreasonably.

      ‘You make a good point.’ Gail smiled, spooning the last of Ben’s breakfast into his mouth. ‘But Mum’s still worried about him. As if yesterday wasn’t bad enough, she told me last night that he went out two days ago and left the kitchen tap running. She’s still mopping up now, so if getting a few crossword puzzles for your granddad keeps her happy, I’m all for it.’

      Jenny looked at her mother earnestly. ‘Granddad is all right though, isn’t he? I mean, if he’s forgetting things like telling people he’s going into town and leaving the tap on, shouldn’t he go to the doctor’s?’

      Gail shook her head and smiled. ‘Your grandfather’s fine! You’re as bad as your grandma worrying about things. I think it’s just all the stress of moving house. It’s difficult enough for anyone, never mind when you get to Mum and Dad’s age. Dad’ll be right as rain in a couple of weeks I’m sure, once everything settles down.’

      I snuggled deeper into Jenny’s lap, enjoying the warmth of her legs. I was about to shut my eyes and enjoy a snooze, when a sudden squeal from Gail made me jump out of my skin. Looking across at her, I saw she was staring in horror at Hugo.

      ‘Tell me that’s not what I think it is? It’s bad enough changing nappies, never mind cleaning up after a pup as well,’ she snapped.

      A sense of cold dread enveloped my fur. Lifting my head, I saw that once again Hugo needed the loo. This time, despite the fact the back door was wide open he had still failed to make it outside.

      ‘Why didn’t you go in the garden?’ I howled, taking in the pair of puddles next to his behind.

      ‘I made Gail a present,’ Hugo whined dejectedly. ‘You and Jenny said a wee in the shape of a heart was adorable.’

      I stared up at Gail’s horrified face and saw she hadn’t quite appreciated the love he had shown. A pang of sorrow flooded through my fur as I gave Hugo an affectionate lick on his ear. As he stood there, his eyes downcast, his bottom lip quivering, I knew he didn’t mean to cause trouble, which was half the problem. Hugo often meant so well, but although good intentions were all very well, they wouldn’t necessarily guarantee him a forever home if he continued with them.

Chapter Eight

      After Gail took Ben shopping with Eric, Jenny and I set about clearing up Hugo’s mess for the second time while he napped in his basket. Along with the heart shape, Hugo had also chosen to show his affection for Gail by running across her bed, getting muddy paws all over the sheets and upending the laundry basket in a game of chase with himself.

      I looked helplessly at Jenny, wondering where to start. If anyone understood how much I needed Hugo to behave it was Jenny. When Gail had first adopted me, Simon had been hesitant to keep me, afraid I would be too much work with Jenny so poorly. However, thanks to Jenny, Gail and the love they had shown me, Simon had come around and realised I was their forever friend. With the threat of the tails of the forgotten looming large over Hugo’s head, I desperately needed my son to stop being so naughty.

      ‘He’s just being a puppy, don’t worry,’ Jenny said soothingly, as if reading my mind.

      ‘It’s not sweet,’ I whined. ‘It means trouble, and not everyone wants trouble.’

      ‘You didn’t think Hugo was trouble yesterday when he went off to look for Granddad,’ Jenny said accusingly. ‘Then you thought Hugo was a hero.’

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