Dogsbody by Diana Wynne Jones Page A

growing into a big dog and he had not much more than a year to do it in. But Kathleen had moments of panic. The smart red collar was soon far too small and she had to buy another. Sirius, to his annoyance, had to go through the whole business of secretly scratching a raw spot until Kathleen made the new collar loose enough to slip off.
    Then he had it all to do again just after Christmas, when he found he had grown again. Kathleen never dared tell Duffie just how much Leo ate, and he always seemed rather too thin. She took a book on dog care out of the library and worried about him.
    “What’s the matter?” said Mr. Duffield, a little before Christmas, finding Kathleen staring wanly at an open book.
    “It’s Leo, Uncle Harry,” said Kathleen. “I’m not feeding him right.”
    Mr. Duffield looked down at Sirius, and Sirius thumped hisheavy tail in acknowledgment. Sirius’s feathery coat was a glossy cream color, his nose was black and wet and his eyes were green and bright. His legs, with their fringes of curly hair, were awkwardly long and would not fold under him, but they were straight and strong. He had a surprisingly narrow waist, but Mr. Duffield could only see two of his ribs beyond it. “He looks all right to me,” Mr. Duffield said. “Growing into rather an elegant creature, isn’t he? What’s wrong?”
    “He weighs as much as Robin,” Kathleen explained. “We balanced them on a plank in the yard yesterday. And it says here that dogs who weigh that much ought to have a
pound
of raw meat every day!”
    “Good grief!” said Mr. Duffield. “I weigh three times more than that. We’re both being underfed. Would fifty pence a week help you support your horse?”
    “Oh
thank
you!” said Kathleen. She had not the heart to explain that meat cost a great deal more than that. And fifty pence did help. By scrimping and saving, making Christmas presents for everyone herself and being very sweet and cajoling to the butcher, Kathleen managed to buy Leo raw lights every other day, and still saved enough to give him a red rubber ball for Christmas.
    Sirius enjoyed the ball hugely. But Christmas was not a happy time. Nobody except Mr. Duffield bothered to give Kathleen anything. He gave her a book-token, which Duffie said was a waste of money, since Kathleen had a dog, didn’t she? And Kathleen had never cooked a turkey before. In her anxiety, she overcooked it and it was dry. Sirius and the cats ate dry turkey until they nearly burst. Duffie expressed herself savagely.
    “If you want your turkey properly cooked,” said Mr. Duffield, “you might consider cooking it yourself.” As soon as the shops opened again, he took Kathleen out and bought her a new dress. Kathleen was delighted. The dress was a bright blue which matched her eyes. Sirius thought she looked enchanting in it. He tried to tell her so by bounding and squeaking, and he was so grateful to Mr. Duffield that he put his great front paws on his knee and licked his face. “Go away!” said Mr. Duffield, pushing him off. “I know she looks nice, but there’s no call to wash me for it.” He said to Kathleen, “You’d almost think that creature understands what goes on.”
    “Oh, he does,” Kathleen said earnestly. “He knows English.” Sirius was surprised to hear her say that. He had not thought she had noticed. But Mr. Duffield just thought it was the expression of a touching faith in Kathleen, and he laughed at her.
    Early in the New Year, an oil truck scraped and groaned its way along the back of the houses, through the lane behind the Duffields’ yard. The neighbors, two houses on, had installed central heating, and their fuel tank was awkwardly placed. Sirius sat up in the yard, a high and narrow dog these days, watching the men leaning out and cursing and the lorry grinding backwards and forwards, and wondered what was going on. He soon saw. As the truck came level with the yard gate for the third time, the heavy gray clouds that