The Bare Bum Gang Battles the Dogsnatchers (5 page)

‘No, what about it?'

‘Disappeared.'

‘Really? That's funny.'

‘Why?'

‘Well, the postman told me this morning
that the King Charles spaniel that always used to bark at him at number seven has run away. He said the Johnsons were very upset about it, but it's the best news he's had all year.'

‘Strange them both disappearing,' said Mum. ‘I wonder if they're linked?'

‘Well,' said Dad, ‘they were both pedigrees, so perhaps they were kidnapped by dogsnatchers.'

Mum laughed.

And then she stopped laughing, and a quite complicated expression came over her face, as if she'd just thought of a brilliant plan but didn't want anyone else to know about it.

Luckily Rude Word wasn't around to hear all this. He was still trying out his new bed in the garage.

I had trouble sleeping that night. I had a lot on my mind. Mainly, of course, it was the whole thing about Rude Word and whether or not he had gobbled up Trixie.
Even worse than that, if those other two dogs had disappeared, then maybe Rudy had eaten them as well. That made him a serial cannibal dog, which is just about the worst, most embarrassing kind of dog there is, after a sausage dog.

Finally, when I was nearly asleep, I heard a snuffly, growly sound outside. I went to the window and looked out. Mum was dragging Rude Word along by his rope. When they reached the gate, she tied him to the post and then hung some sort of sign over it. Then she patted Rudy and went back to the garage and got his bed and blanket. I didn't think much about it because I was tired by then, and I soon fell asleep, dreaming about dogs and trousers and being kissed by Mum.

When I left for school in the morning, Rude Word was still there, asleep in his bed.

The sign said:

BEWARE! – VERY EXPENSIVE DOG

 

I was quite pleased that Rudy had a job at last, even if it seemed a funny way to scare people off.

The next day was Saturday. I tried to teach Rude Word some tricks, but he spent most of the day licking his bottom. Mum made him eat his supper in the garden. He had three fried eggs and some cold baked beans.

The sign was still on the gate. Dad gave Mum a funny look when he saw it, but he didn't say anything.

It rained on Sunday so nothing happened apart from more bum licking.

School on Monday was not very nice. Some of the other children were talking about the pet dogs that had gone missing. We tried to ignore it, but I think the Bare Bum Gang were all secretly afraid in case it turned out to be our fault and we got blamed and everyone hated us.

But that evening things took a turn for the better, at last, even though at first it seemed as though they'd got worse.

MY NUMERACY HOMEWORK
was measuring things. We had to measure an object in every room in the house. I'd measured some forks in the kitchen, the telly in the living room, a toothbrush in the bathroom, and a toilet roll in the loo.

So next I was looking for something to measure in my bedroom. I thought I'd try my old teddy, Malcolm. I hadn't really played with Malcolm for a long time, because I didn't need him to look after me any more now that I was old.

I felt a bit guilty about not playing with
him, which is why I thought I'd measure him, to make him feel wanted again. But now I couldn't find him. I looked under the bed and on the shelves and in my toy box.

‘Mum, where's Malcolm?' I yelled downstairs.

Before she answered, who should wander in but Rude Word. There was something in his mouth. I knew what it was. Or rather,
who
it was.

In case you aren't very good at guessing, I'll tell you – it was my poor old bear!

 

‘Bad dog!' I shouted, and tried to pull Malcolm from the Jaws of Death. Rude Word pulled back. I've already said how strong he was, and he certainly wasn't the kind of dog who'd give up a tasty meal – even one made mainly of fluff and hair – so you can probably imagine what happed next:

RRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPP!

Rude Word had the head end.

I had the back end.

In between there was nothing.

That was it. I lost my temper and started really screaming at him. I used all the bad words I know, such as stupid, fat, nasty, idiot, smelly, ugly, smelly, fat, stupid, idiot, etc., etc. That seemed to work, because Rude Word sat down and spat out the parts of Malcolm he was chewing.

I don't want to come across as a baby, but I got quite emotional then. Malcolm had been a faithful bear, and had fought off all kinds of monsters that would otherwise
have got me when I was asleep, including dragons, vultures, Gaseous Aliens from Uranus, vampires and werewolves. Once when I had chicken pox he stayed up all night to make sure I didn't die.

And so I cried – quite a lot, really. Rude Word came over and sat on me, which I think was his way of saying sorry, but I pushed him away. Then Mum came in. She'd heard me crying, which means I must have been quite loud, which is a bit embarrassing. It was lucky there was no one important around to hear. I told Mum what had happened, and she said not to worry, because she could sew Malcolm together and make him all well again. She dried my eyes with some clean underpants from my underpant drawer, and I felt a bit better.

‘Let's find all the pieces,' said Mum.

‘What do you mean?' I said. ‘Here's the top and here's the bottom.'

‘But what about the other leg?'

That's when I saw it.

I mean,
didn't
see it.

Of course, Malcolm.

Two arms. One leg.

One brown leg.

He was supposed to have two.

And I knew where the second one was.

IT WAS RAINING
again the next day, so at school we had to stay indoors at break and play with the rubbish Lego they have. You would have thought it was impossible to break Lego, but half of the bricks have been chewed so they don't snap together properly. So, if you built a really good space station, or even a new type of tank, there'd be a good chance it would just fall apart, like it was made of dried bogeys and ear wax.

At least being inside gave us a chance to talk things over without getting hit by
a football. We were all there, apart from Jennifer, who was playing with the girls somewhere else, probably doing girl things, such as skipping, talking, hair-brushing and being mean about other girls, etc., etc.

Naturally we talked about Rude Word. I couldn't wait to tell them about Malcolm's leg.

‘Don't you see?' I explained to the Gang. ‘It means that Rudy didn't eat Trixie.'

‘Actually,' said Noah, ‘it only proves that Rudy ate Malcolm's leg, not that he didn't also eat Trixie.'

‘That's just stupid,' I said. ‘Are you saying that Rudy eats bears and dogs? Nothing eats bears
and
dogs. Everyone knows that.'

‘Well, whatever he ate, I say he's voted out of the Bare Bum Gang,' said The Moan, kicking things off in his usual cheery way. (That's me being sarcastic, this time, in case you didn't notice.)

‘You can't vote him out by yourself,' I said.

‘What about you?' said The Moan, looking at Noah.

Noah started to take a lot of notice of his fingernails.

 

‘Jamie, what do you think?' continued The Moan. Jamie was trying to separate two bits of Lego with his teeth. ‘You agree with me, don't you?'

Jamie said something like, ‘Oogaggomp,' because of the Lego in his mouth.

‘See!' said The Moan. ‘Let's face it, he's a useless dog, even if he isn't a cannibal, or a teddy-bear-eater. He's never going to find any treasure. He doesn't even fetch sticks, or roll over, or play dead. What we need is a decent gang pet, one like Declan and Dylan have.'

Declan was in our class and Dylan was
his older brother, who went to big school. Declan wasn't in our gang. He was in a different gang. They called themselves The Commandos, but they mainly played card games like Pokémon and Yu-Gi-Oh! that have rules so complicated that nobody really understands them.

The Commandos weren't our friends or our enemies. It was a bit like the United Kingdom and, I don't know, say Peru or Greenland. We just didn't have much to do with them.

Actually, of all The Commandos, Declan was the one we talked to the most. He was a bit crazy and was always getting into trouble for not sitting still when Mrs Walsh was taking register, or for yelling out,
‘I'M A BANANA, I'M A BANANA,'
at the top of his voice during quiet time. And because he was a bit crazy, everyone liked him. Well, not really Mrs Walsh, but she didn't matter.

Another reason everyone liked Declan was because of his pet. And even I had to
admit that it was probably the coolest pet in the world.

‘Yeah,' said Jamie, freeing himself from his Lego, ‘a snake!'

‘Not just a snake, but a
giant
snake – a python,' said The Moan, rubbing it in.

‘Actually I think it's a boa constrictor,' said Noah, but that didn't really help me as ‘boa constrictor' sounds even more cool than ‘python'. And both of them sounded way better than Rude Word.