The Amphiblets by Helen Oghenegweke Page B

his mouth. This was the first time Will had seen Shanks since yesterday’s frightening encounter. Peter and Robert had deliberately kept the dog away, giving the boy a chance to adjust to his new home.
    ‘You thoroughly spoil him,’ remarked Peter, smiling despite the fact he was aiming to sound stern. ‘He used to be a good guard dog until you started mollycoddling him.’
    ‘He’s still a good guard dog,’ insisted Robert, standing and brushing the fur off his trousers.
    Shanks sat, waggled his tail, and stared at Robert with his big brown eyes, as if to say, ‘Stroke me more!’
    ‘Good morning, young William. Your breakfast is ready for you,’ said Robert, pointing to the table where a glass of orange juice and two pieces of toast were waiting.
    ‘Thanks,’ said Will, but made no effort to pass the animal, which he suspected might attack him at any moment. ‘Are you sure Shanks won’t bite me?’
    ‘Perfectly sure.’ Peter reassured the youngster by holding his shoulder gently. ‘Here, let me show you how tame he is.’
    Peter bent over and began to stroke behind the dog’s ears.
    ‘He’s huge.’ Will took a step closer to the hairy beast.
    ‘He’s a St Bernard – one of the largest breeds,’ Peter told him. ‘I have a couple of cats too but I only ever see them in the evenings when they come for their food. They catch an awful lot of mice around here and generally eat them instead – unless they give them to me as presents.’
    ‘Urgh!’ said Will. ‘Cats give you a dead mouse for a present? Yuk ! I hope they don’t ever give me one. That’s one present I wouldn’t like.’
    Peter laughed. ‘Come and stroke Shanks – he wants to meet you. His tail is wagging which means he’s happy.’
    Will nervously approached the big hairy dog, which had a wide, gaping mouth and teeth to match. Peter firmly held Will’s hand and guided it along the front of the dog’s snout, where it was sniffed by a cold, wet nose and licked by a wet, sloppy tongue.
    ‘Urgh!’ said Will, making a face, but secretly enjoying it.
    ‘See. He likes you,’ laughed Peter.
    Will smiled and continued to stroke the dog, who wallowed in all the attention. His ears and belly were his favourite places to be scratched. After a few more minutes, Will was no longer scared. As Peter and Will both stood, they were rather surprised at how swiftly Shanks moved when he wanted to. He flipped from his back on to his feet, leaping at Will and resting his two front paws on the boy’s shoulders before anyone could stop him.
    ‘Oh my God!’ said Will, staggering backwards. ‘He’s bigger when he stands.’
    ‘Get down, Shanks!’ scolded Peter, supporting the boy. ‘You nearly knocked young William over.’
    Will giggled. He liked the dog and he liked this home.
    He couldn’t wait to tell his brothers everything he had been doing and all the things he had seen. There wasn’t another house for miles so Will was able to enjoy the freedom of being unobserved. There was no one to give him quizzical glances or remark on the strangeness of his eyes and webbed fingers.
    Peter and Robert certainly accepted Will’s remarkable appearance, as if they were used to seeing someone like Will every day, which he knew was impossible because his condition was so rare.
    After a quick breakfast, in which Will swallowed his food as fast as he could, they set off to the stables. The two horses, Pedlar and Hans, were already wearing their saddles and bridles by the time the two of them arrived.
    ‘I came here earlier,’ explained Peter, ‘so we didn’t have to waste much time.’ 
    ‘You must have woken early!’ Will felt sorry for Robert’s horse, as it would be alone.
    ‘Don’t worry about Yepsin,’ said Peter, as if reading his thoughts. ‘Robert will take him for a ride later.’
    Peter helped Will into the saddle. The boy was shaking. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll lead Hans for now. Keep your back straight and hold on gently with your