Selby Snowbound Page 2

  ‘Were you watching Restless Hearts Aflame?’

  ‘No, it was before that,’ Selby admitted.

  ‘And where do you live?’

  ‘In a little town called Bogusville. My owners don’t know that I know how to talk. You’re the only one who does. Can I live with you from now on?’

  ‘And be my loving friend?’

  ‘You’ve got it.’

  ‘Oh, Selby darling,’ Bonnie gushed. ‘Now I can stop my never-ending search for a gentle kind considerate man — because I know there aren’t any anyway.’

  ‘It’ll be just me and you, Bonnie baby.’

  ‘Yes, but you have to promise me one thing, Sel darling.’

  ‘That I’ll never tell anyone that I can talk, is that it?’ Selby said.

  ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘I heard you say it on TV. Of course I won’t, Bonnie darling.’

  ‘Oh Selby, Selby, Selby,’ Bonnie said, kissing Selby gently on the lips. ‘You are the most wonderful being on this whole crazy planet.’

  In the days that followed, every morning Bonnie went off to the studio while Selby lazed around watching video tapes of every episode of Restless Hearts Aflame.

  In the evening, Bonnie would cook fabulous meals and then they’d sit together holding hands and paws and gazing into each other’s eyes.

  But then one day when Bonnie was about to leave for work she said: ‘Oh, Selly-belly baby?’

  ‘Yes, Bon-bon?’ Selby responded.

  ‘Would little Selby-welby mind awfully-waffly making din-dins for us tonight?’

  ‘Of course I wouldn’t mind. I think I saw some recipe books on the shelf. I think I can follow a recipe.’

  ‘Oh, and would you make the beddyweddies?’

  ‘Yes, darling Bonnie-wonnie.’

  Bonnie stood there in the doorway, smiling and blinking her long curvy eyelashes.

  ‘And could you do some sweeping and mopping and vacuuming and then wash the windows and polish the furniture?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, of course, darling.’

  ‘Oh and, Sel?’

  ‘Yes, Bon?’

  ‘Could you clean the toilet?’

  ‘The toilet? For you, my dear, I would do anything.’

  However, day after day Selby found that he was doing more and more work. Sometimes when Bonnie arrived home he didn’t even feel like a cuddle because he was so exhausted. Bonnie had him writing cheques to pay the bills and phoning people to make appointments for her with her hairdresser and her manicurist.

  And then one fateful day Bonnie said: ‘Selby,’ (she didn’t call him ‘Sel’, or ‘darling’, or ‘dear’, or ‘Selby-welby’, just ‘Selby’) ‘how are you going to earn some money? I mean, so far, I’ve earned all the money around here. Isn’t it about time you helped out? Think about it.’

  ‘I just thought about it, Bonnie,’ Selby said, sort of snappily (without saying ‘Bon-bons’, or ‘Bonsie-wonsie’, or ‘Bonnie-poo’), ‘and I don’t like the idea. Besides, how could I possibly get a job?’

  ‘You could tell everyone you can talk and then get acting parts for talking dogs on TV. I could be your agent. We’d make a bomb. Then I could retire and just lie around the way you do.’

  ‘Lie around?! Are you kidding?! I run myself ragged all day long just to give you a comfortable home! I cleaned the toilet three times this week you didn’t even notice! You don’t appreciate me.’

  Bonnie gave him an icy stare.

  ‘What kind of dog are you?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m a good dog, basically. I mean, I try to be a good dog but you’ve pushed me too far!’

  ‘I don’t mean that. I mean what kind of dog are you, a beagle or something?’

  ‘No, I’m not a beagle. I’m bigger than a beagle.’

  ‘But you’re still a short dog. You’re not one of those tall handsome dogs like an Alsatian or a Russian wolfhound.’

  ‘Okay, so I’m short. You knew I was short when you met me. You didn’t mind it then.’

  ‘It’s just you I mind. You remind me of my sixth husband.’

  ‘Well, I feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for all of them! I’ll bet you drove them all bonkers. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tiddles didn’t fall off that balcony of yours. He probably jumped!’

  Bonnie’s lip curled, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said, suddenly lifting Selby up and carrying him onto the balcony. ‘He didn’t fall.’

  ‘You threw him off!’ Selby screamed. ‘You killed him because he wouldn’t wait on you hand and foot! Put me down, you murderer!’

  ‘I’ll put you down, all right — thirty-four storeys down. Look out below!’ she screamed.

  Selby could feel the wind whistling past his ears. Suddenly he felt the hard ground under him. He trembled all over and hunger pangs gripped his stomach. He drifted in and out of a dream.

  Suddenly a hand reached out and touched him.

  ‘Oh, you poor dear. Are you all right?’ It was Bonnie’s sweet voice. ‘How did you get here? What’s wrong? Are you okay? You look hungry and tired and cold.’

  ‘It’s her again!’ Selby thought. ‘First she tried to kill me and now she’s going to be nice to me! She’s a stark, raving loony!’

  ‘Oh, you poor little doggy-woggy.’

  ‘Now hang on,’ Selby thought. ‘I don’t think I was dropped off that building after all. If I did, I’d be dead. I must have been dreaming all that stuff about me and Bonnie ever since I lay down here. Why I haven’t been in her apartment at all!’

  ‘Let me take you home with me,’ Bonnie said as she started to pick him up.

  ‘Oh, no you don’t!’ Selby said, and he broke free.

  ‘You talked! Good grief! I just heard you talk!’

  ‘Of course I talked! Now get away from me!’

  ‘But you’re what I’ve been looking for all my life! You’d be my dream companion! Oh, please please come back to me.’

  ‘Not on your life!’ Selby yelled over his shoulder as he started to run. ‘You’d have me cleaning toilets in no time.’

  ‘Toilets? What are you talking about?’

  ‘You’ll say you won’t but I can’t take that chance from now on. From now on I’m going to be my own dog and nobody’s ever going to boss me around!’

  And in a few minutes Selby was back on the Bogusville-bound bus, bumping around in the luggage compartment again. And the next morning he saw Bonnie on the TV news telling an interviewer about the talking dog she’d just seen.

  (Of course nobody believed her.)

  ‘She’s sooooo beautiful!’ Selby thought. ‘And she’s probably a wonderful person. But I guess I’ll never know because I’m going to stay with the Trifles forever. They are my real dream companions.’

  SELBY SUPER-SELLER

  The Trifles were out of the house and Selby was watching his favourite TV learning program called You Can Sell Anything!

  ‘I just love the way this Harold Huckster guy explains how to be a super-salesperson,’ Selby thought. ‘I’d love to give it a go. I’d love to go around knocking on doors, selling encyclopaedias, and things to clean carpets, and all that greasy stuff that women put on their faces. It would be so much fun.’

  ‘And this brings us to the end of another program,’ Harold announced. ‘So what have we learned? What are today’s Steps to Success? First, confuse your customers. When they’re confused you can have them eating out of the palm of your hand.’

  ‘Got it, Harold,’ Selby thought. ‘What next?’

  ‘And don’t forget to flatter them. Make them feel good about themselves and they’ll do anything you want.’

  ‘And then?’ Selby thought.

  ‘And then,’ Harold said, ‘remember that before you sell a product you have to sell yourself. And to sell yourself all you have to do is smile. Get that smile right and they’ll believe anything you say. So, until next time — happy smiling and happy s
elling!’

  ‘Here’s how I’d do it,’ Selby said, practising a huge smile in front of the mirror. Then he put on a cheerful voice.

  ‘Hello, my name’s Selby. What a lovely house you have. I know you’re busy and that’s why I’m here. I have just the thing to make your life easy. And for today only we have a special never-to-be-repeated offer. Hi, my name’s Selby. G’day, I’m Selby.’

  Selby heaved a great sigh.

  ‘I could never be a salesperson,’ he said, ‘because I can never be a person. But it’s still fun to pretend. Hi, I’m Selby. G’day.’

  Selby smiled a big smile and then an even bigger one. But it still didn’t look right.

  ‘It’s no good,’ he thought as he headed off on his afternoon walk. ‘Better to start with a little smile that gets bigger and bigger till it breaks like an ocean wave into a huge smile. I could start with just a twinkle in my eye. Everybody likes an eye twinkle. Then I’d slide slowly into a glamorous grin with just a touch of frown. No teeth showing yet. Then I’d hit them with a super-spectacular ear-to-ear all-over-my-face smile. Hi, I’m Selby and this is your lucky day. Have I got the perfect product for all your household needs. It just costs a few cents a day. Please allow me to explain —’

  Selby was smiling his way across the street just trying out his super-spectacular ear-to-ear all-over-his-face smile when suddenly he heard the sound of screeching brakes. The next thing he knew he was flying through the air and then lying beside the road. Selby’s head was spinning as a man and woman jumped out of the car.

  ‘The poor thing,’ the woman said. ‘Did you see that he wasn’t watching where he was going.’

  ‘That’s the problem with these small towns,’ the man said. ‘No one’s used to traffic because there never is any. Even their pets cross the streets without looking.’

  ‘Oooooooh,’ Selby moaned out loud. ‘What happened?’

  The man and woman stood open-mouthed staring down at him.

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ the woman said.

  ‘Where am I?’ Selby asked.

  ‘You’re in some awful little town,’ the man said. ‘We’re just passing through. I think I saw a sign that said Doughnutville or something like that. By the way,’ he added, ‘do you realise that you just talked?’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘You not only did but you’re still doing it.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘So, you’re a dog and dogs don’t talk.’

  ‘Well you’re obviously wrong because I do,’ Selby said, still dazed and confused and wondering where he was.

  Slowly the man and woman turned to each other and smiled a couple of smiles that were even more super-spectacular and ear-to-ear and all-over-their-faces than Selby’s best smile.

  ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ the man asked the woman.

  ‘If you’re thinking that this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to us in our whole lives, then I guess I am thinking what you’re thinking,’ she answered.

  ‘He’s a real live talking dog!’ the man exclaimed. ‘We are going to be rich! We could be staring down the barrel of a billion bucks! We now own the world’s only talking dog! I’ll never have to do any of those stupid TV shows again!’

  ‘Own?’ Selby thought as the world kept spinning around him. ‘Did they say that they own me?’

  ‘Quick! Chuck him in the boot and let’s get out of here!’ the man said.

  ‘But someone might miss him.’

  ‘Who cares? Anyone who lets a talking dog walk freely around the streets without bodyguards has got bubble gum for brains. Someone could just come along and dognap him, couldn’t they? Heh-heh-heh. Get what I mean? Huh? Huh?’

  ‘Gotcha,’ the woman said, giving an evil little grin and an even more evil giggle.

  ‘Dognap?’ Selby thought. ‘Are they kidding? Hey, he’s grabbing my leg! Now he’s grabbing another leg! Now she’s grabbing the rest of my legs. I think I’m being dognapped!’

  As they lifted him into the boot, the man suddenly smiled again and something clicked in Selby’s brain.

  ‘I know who the dude is!’ he thought. ‘He’s Harold Huckster! I’d recognise that smile anywhere! I’m being dognapped by a television personality! Oh, woe, why did I talk? But it’s too late now — I’ve already done it. Now my only chance is to bite and kick and scratch and run away. But I can’t — I’m so dizzy that I can’t even walk!’

  ‘We’re going to be billionaires,’ Harold snickered as he began to close the boot. He paused. ‘Maybe even grillionaires! We’ll sell his story to TV! We’ll put him in commercials! We’ll sell tickets for people to come to talk to him! Then we’ll teach him to sing and he’ll be the most famous pop star in history!’

  ‘Oh, woe, if only I could talk them out of thinking that I can talk,’ Selby thought. ‘But how could I do that when I’ve already talked?’

  ‘You forgot about making him a movie star and keeping all the money,’ the woman said, brushing her hair back with her fingers.

  ‘I know,’ Selby thought. ‘This is a job for Selby Super-Seller. Only this time I’m not selling a product — I’m selling an idea. I have to sell them the idea that I didn’t really talk. Hmmm, how will I do it? I’ve got it! I’ll just follow Harold Huckster’s Steps to Success. First, confuse them, then flatter them and then sell yourself. Only how can I sell myself when I’ve already given myself away? Oh well, here goes.’

  Suddenly Selby flashed a little eye twinkle at Mr and Mrs Huckster.

  ‘Hi, there,’ he said, putting out his paw. ‘I’m Selby and I’m pleased to meet you.’

  ‘And I’m Harold Huckster,’ Harold said, automatically putting out his hand to shake Selby’s paw and then quickly pulling it back. ‘Hey, what’s going on here?’

  ‘Have you ever seen a talking dog before, Harold?’ Selby asked.

  ‘Well no, I haven’t,’ Harold said, looking slightly puzzled.

  ‘I think I’ve got him confused,’ Selby thought. ‘Now to start selling myself.’

  ‘Why do you think that is, Harold?’ Selby said, breaking into a glamorous grin with a touch of frown.

  ‘W-Well I don’t know,’ the salesman said, getting more baffled by the second.

  ‘Could it be,’ Selby said, suddenly bursting into his super-spectacular ear-to-ear all-over-his-face smile, ‘that it’s because they don’t exist?’

  ‘D-Don’t they?’ the man stammered, watching helplessly as the suddenly-not-so-dizzy Selby climbed out of the boot.

  ‘This is it!’ Selby thought. ‘Now it’s time to flatter them.’

  ‘You people look like highly intelligent people to me,’ Selby said aloud.

  ‘Yes, I guess we are,’ Harold Huckster said.

  ‘And any intelligent person knows that dogs can’t talk, isn’t that right?’

  ‘W-W-Well that’s right,’ Mrs Huckster said.

  ‘This is great!’ Selby thought. ‘I’ve got them eating out of the palm of my hand — or out of the palm of my paw, anyway.’

  ‘Now just a minute,’ Mrs Huckster said. ‘If there aren’t any such things as talking dogs, what are you?’

  ‘She’s got me there,’ Selby thought. ‘What can I tell her? Hmmm, I think it’s time to stop selling and start running!’

  ‘Now that’s an interesting question and I think you’ll love the answer,’ Selby said, suddenly bolting and heading for a bush.

  ‘Not so fast!’ Harold Huckster said, grabbing one of Selby’s legs and then grabbing another leg.

  Selby was still trying to run when Mrs Huckster grabbed his other two legs.

  ‘Good grief!’ Selby thought. ‘I’ve run out of legs again! They’ve got me!’

  But before Selby could think of what to do next, the Trifles’ car pulled up and Mrs Trifle jumped out.

  ‘What are you doing to our dog?’ she cried, snatching Selby away from them.

  ‘I-I-I’m afraid our car hit him,’ Harold Huckster said. ‘He ran in
front of us. We didn’t have time to stop.’

  ‘We’re terribly sorry,’ Mrs Huckster said.

  ‘Poor baby,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘He seems to be okay but we’d better get him in the house and let him rest.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Harold said. ‘But would you sell him to us?’

  ‘Sell him?!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘To you?! Are you kidding?! Do you realise what a special dog he is?’

  ‘W-Well yes, we do,’ Mrs Huckster said.

  ‘Then how could you possibly ask a question like that?’ Mrs Trifle demanded. ‘There isn’t another dog like him in the whole of Australia.’

  ‘And, perhaps, the world,’ Dr Trifle added as the Trifles started to walk towards the house.

  ‘Well, no, I guess there isn’t,’ Harold Huckster said. ‘Sorry I asked.’

  ‘As well you should be,’ Selby thought. And with this Selby suddenly flashed his super-spectacular ear-to-ear all-over-his-face smile at the baffled Hucksters.

  Paw note: This is my newly-invented question-comma. You can use it in the middle of sentences. Good, hey?

  S

  THE PADDLE-PUP

  ‘Goodness me,’ Mrs Trifle said as she stopped the car at Bogusville Lake, ‘the plants have been delivered but where are the BLURVAC people?’

  Selby looked out the car window at the hundreds and hundreds of tiny plastic flower pots, each with a tiny plant in it.

  ‘BLURVAC people?’ Dr Trifle asked. ‘What are BLURVAC people?’

  ‘It stands for the Bogusville Lake Undergrowth Regeneration Volunteer Action Committee. The volunteers are supposed to be here to help us plant lots of nice native plants around the Bogusville Lake. Don’t tell me I told them the wrong day?’

  ‘You must have,’ Dr Trifle said, ‘otherwise I’m sure they’d be here.’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Mrs Trifle sighed. ‘Oh, well, let’s get to work. It’s very hot and if we aren’t quick about it, all the seedlings will die. They’re already wilting.’

  ‘I’ll be with you in a moment,’ Dr Trifle said, lifting a bizarre contraption out of the boot.

  ‘What is that?’ Mrs Trifle asked. ‘It looks like a horse robot.’