that?â
âOne who couldnât stand a grumpy old man complaining all the time, I suspect,â Mrs Trifle said. âI believe heâs quite impossible to live with.â
âPets are good for old people,â Dr Trifle said. âTheyâre good company. You can talk to them and they donât talk back. Just looking after a pet can give people the bit of exercise they need.â
âThe Council tried to get a dog from the RSPCA but Digger Dave refused. He had a dog that he adored but it died. Now he says he doesnât want another dog because it would outlive him and then no one would want to take an old dog.â Mrs Trifle thought for a moment, then said, âBut what if we were to lendhim one for a while? I think I could talk him into that.â
âYou donât mean â¦?â Dr Trifle said, looking over at Selby.
âOh, yes, I do,â Mrs Trifle said, looking at Selby too.
âOh, no, you donât!â Selby thought as he looked back at the Trifles. âIâm not going to live with old grumpy-guts for even a second!â
âHello Dave, how are you?â Mrs Trifle said brightly. Sheâd decided to visit and see how Dave got on with Selby.
âWhat would you care?â Digger Dave said, squinting through filthy glasses. âAnd donât even try to give me that flea-bitten dog.â
âGive him to you?â Mrs Trifle said, patting Selby. âI just wondered if you could look after him for a few days.â
âLook after him yourself. Now buzz off.â
Mrs Trifle ignored Digger Daveâs rudeness and said, âDr Trifle and I are going away for a week and we canât take him with us.â It wasnât the truth but it was the only way Mrs Trifle could think of to get Dave to say yes.
âSay no, Digger,â Selby thought. âPlease say no.â
âNo!â said Digger Dave. âGet that ugly dog out of here!â
âPhew!â Selby thought. âThank goodness for that.â
âThen I guess weâll have to have him put down,â Mrs Trifle lied again. âThereâs no one to care for him.â
âOh, thatâs charming!â Selby thought.
Digger Dave gave Mrs Trifle a fierce look.
âYou would kill that mutt because you canât get anyone to feed him for a week?â
âIt would be the kindest thing for him,â Mrs Trifle sniffed. She hated lying but she was so concerned about Digger Dave that she felt she had no choice. âBetter that than having him starve to death.â
âYou horrid woman! Give me that dog!â Dave exploded, grabbing Selbyâs leash and pulling him into the house. âNow get out of here and never come back!â
Slam!
âGreat!â Selby thought. âNow what? Eew! This place stinks. Iâll be out of here and back to the Trifles before old sourpuss can think to blink.â
âHey, dog, whatâs your name?â Dave said, looking at the tag on Selbyâs collar. âSelby. Stupid name for a stupid dog. Now my dog Shishkebab, there was a dog. Good old Shish.â
Selby watched as the old man locked the front door and put the key in his pocket.
âShishkebab,â Selby thought. âTalk about a silly name.â
âSit down, Selby. Iâll make you some grub. Ainât got no dog food though. Guess youâll have to eat what I eat.â
âWell, thatâs one good thing,â Selby thought. âAt least Iâll get to eat some people food. Then, after lunch, Iâm outta here.â
Selby looked around the house.
âHow can anyone live in a place like this. Itâs filthy. And what a pong!â
Digger Dave opened a can of beans and poured them into a blackened saucepan. He tried to light the flame on the gas stove a couple of times but it wouldnât light. His hands were shaking too much to keep a match alight.
âHeating things up is a waste of
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