Pudding Detective - Chapter 4

Pudding Detective 

Chapter 4

Dream On

Pudding's dreams were always weird. But since becoming a detective they had taken on a whole new level of weirdness. The longer her sleep was uninterrupted, the more strange they became. For example, she could do amazing things like fly from one place to the next by turning her tail into a helicopter propeller and so cover vast areas of ground in a short space of time. Although often she didn't need to fly because there would be portals, like worm holes, and if she bent them into the correct shape, she could easily run from one place to the next in a few seconds. 

But to be honest she found the portals a bit boring after a while; instead, she preferred flying up very high and then turning off her tail propeller and freefalling until she got close to the ground, a sort of doggy bungee jump if you will. This was such fun for her because her belly would do somersaults and bring her so much joy. However on one occasion she got carried away with things when she got distracted by two foxes fighting in the Upper Field and ended up stuck in a beech tree. But luckily a ginger Tom cat had taken pity on her (this would only ever happen in dreams) and used its teeth to set her free. Otherwise, the naughty squirrels, who had been pulling faces at her as she precariously dangled there, would have continued their mocking games by putting their little front paws to their heads and sticking their tongues out at her, and she truthfully didn't know if she could have taken that for much longer. 

Ever since that episode, two things would never be the same again: firstly, she was never being unkind to cats, never chasing them from the garden or barking at them from the window; and secondly, grey squirrels would be chased doubly - at least doubly. Make that thricely!

Pudding could do many things in her dreams, but one thing she couldn't do was smell anything, and if you know a thing or two about the sniffing superpower of a Labrador, you'll be well aware of how much of an inconvenience that would be. If you can't imagine it, then picture this for a second: an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Really? Yes! Have you got it fixed in your head yet? Ok. Now add a teaspoon of sugar to the pool water and stir repeatedly until dissolved. Next gently put it to your lips and say whether you can taste that sugar at all. Could you taste it and be able to work out if it was actually in there or not? Well, Pudding's sense of smell allowed her to do that with sniffing. It was like super fuel, allowing her to communicate with all the animals around her. And if she couldn't chase a scent in her dreams, she then of course had to rely on those other animals to do it for her, and as you can see, not all animals were very good at that nor honest enough to tell her the truth if they could. 

This was a problem, because at times Mr and Mrs Pumphrey were just too busy to take Pudding for a walk. They did have jobs you know. In fact, even when they did have time she was not always taken to the correct places. Just like the example of Sprinter the rabbit in the Lower Field. She'd been so desperate to get there ever since her first trip to Bunce some days before. But days had passed and she still hadn't returned there and she wondered if Bunce had almost given up hope by now. 

What was she to do...? Well, she would do what all dogs do when they are neither eating, playing or barking through the window - sleep, sleep, sleep. 

The slide into the dream realm was a huge one and she was definitely ready to go down it, whether she could sniff or not sniff. She simply had no choice. And if there were annual awards given out for sleeping, dogs would be the victors - with cats a close second, and little children and teenagers third. 

So, a heavy lunch, a heavily cushioned favourite sofa, and peace and quiet in the garden would surely all do the trick. She was now at the top of the dreamland slide and ready to ride...

                                                                      ***

Sprinter was hard to find, even more so without her sense of smell in tow. But she persevered, soaring over jutting chalky hills and down deep into the Chiltern valley, skirting ponds and streams, zigging this way, zagging the other, and that tail of hers just kept giving. 

Suddenly she saw him, but no where near where Bunce had told her to go. Perfectly described though -'a smallish rabbit with a slight limp of one leg, which occasionally kicked out sideways'. Gotcha, there he is!

"How do you do that?" asked an incredulous rabbit, as Pudding landed softly behind him, making him hop with fright at least a metre into the air.

"Do what?" asked Pudding, shaking some branch twigs off her back.

"Appear out of no where of course." 

"Oh, you know...practice, I guess. But it may have been less of a surprise for you if my nose worked better in the dream." Pudding replied, grabbing hold of her propeller tail, which was still turning slightly and therefore shunting her across the grass in little embarrassing jumps. 

Thankfully, Pudding's uncomfortable landing somehow had put Sprinter more at ease and it wasn't long before they were sitting side by side. Sprinter had been waiting for her and was desperate to confide in her all the vital details of Monty the muntjac. He had been holding on to the information for what seemed like an age and he was just about ready to burst.

'Murder! Cold-blooded murder!" blurted Sprinter, "and I witnessed most of it."

"You did? Then you know who it was?!" asked Pudding, believing the case might be a lot easier than she first imagined.

"Ah, when I say 'witnessed', I don't mean I saw anything...You see, I can't see very well...never been able to see much...won't ever be able to see much. You see? I heard it all though. I heard movements and the cries of terror. It was chilling and too late to save him by the time I got there, his neck was bitten and bleeding very badly." Sprinter paused to point to his ears. "What I have lost through my eyes I have certainly made up in other ways. And sometimes it's a real blessing not be able to see to be honest Pudding, especially at times like this."

Sprinter rested his chin on his front paws and let out a deep sigh. The sun was just about to set and it glinted off the tips of his whiskers as he lay outstretched on the borrow edge. His hind leg kicked out again.

Pudding briefly paused and asked what the difference was between a murder and a normal killing. For example, by say foxes. 

Scamper didn't hesitate to snap upright in an instant, looking completely shocked at the question: 

"It was Monty. No animal would ever hurt Monty, no matter how hungry they were. It's the unwritten rule of this land, simply not done. I know you're fairly knew around these parts but Monty was the glue that held us all together, whether you were as tiny as a shrew or as big as a badger. It just doesn't make sense, Pudding. You must help us." He reached out and touched Pudding's chest. "At the moment everyone is blaming one another and now there is so much division in this valley. You have come at the perfect time. I don't know where it's all going to end though." 

Sprinter paused to wipe away his tears with a dry leaf Pudding had offered, before adding, "We must have justice, we simply must. Please talk to the swallows, Amari and Odion; I was told they were very close by at the time and they don't have eye problems like me, in fact quite the opposite. Problem is, they are really hard to find, though I do know that they will definitely be at the Great Pond tomorrow at around 9am, probably on the phone lines. But Pudding, you must be aware that they're just about to migrate south any day now. That's why I know they'll be there as they always gather early on phone lines before they go."

With that Pudding suddenly felt her tail start to vibrate and then flick about - like one of those annoyed snakes that's been startled - and began to slowly wind around in preparation for her take off. She had no control over this and immediately realised why: food was being prepared in the kitchen back home and her instincts had got the better of her and fully kicked in.

"Oh my, oh my, my, my. It's sstt-eak. Steak! My favourite favourite." She was now doing a spinning dance in front of Sprinter, trying to tame her tail in some way and was flattening most of the grass around her. Saliva was flicking from her mouth as she began to speed up.

Sprinter pulled back in fright wondering what on earth was going on, turned his head and looked in the direction of Pudding as she finally began to lift up off the ground in an out of control, head first motion before she regained some control at the second attempt.

"Pudding, are you still there?" Sprinter asked mournfully, worried that there hadn't been enough time to make sure the important details were secure and safely lodged in Pudding's head.

"Sorry, I can't help it!" Pudding shouted over the noise. "I have to go. But I'll be back...You see, it's teatime and I just got a whiff of steaks being fried by my owner, Mrs Pumphrey. I can still smell things where I'm sleeping but not in my dreams, Sprinter. At first I thought I was smelling in my dreams but then I realised it was coming from the kitchen in Forest Oak where I live." 

Her voice was becoming fainter and fainter as she rose towards the willow trees. She hung out there for a moment after she looked down and noticed Sprinter searching around, like his head was a twisting stage head lamp attempting to pinpoint her whereabouts.

"But remember to keep your chin up, Sprinter. Life is too short to be sad." She yelled again.

With that, she was high into the air and nearly gone, except for the fading cries rising from beneath her and the words: 

"Amari and Odion...The Great Pond...9am...phone lines...Amari and Odion. Don't forge-".