Selby's Stardom Page 3

  ‘I’m just exhausted,’ Selby thought. ‘I’ve been awake all night.’

  ‘His eyes look very droopy,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘If only he could tell us what’s wrong.’

  ‘Tell them?’ Selby thought. ‘What is she on about?’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Dr Trifle. ‘Talk to us, Selby.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought. ‘It’s true! They do know that I can talk!’

  Mrs Trifle got down on her knees in front of Selby and looked him in the eye.

  ‘Selby Welby,’ she said, ‘when are you going to talk to us?’

  ‘She does know!’ Selby thought. ‘It’s all true! I’ve got to talk to them now. I’m looking more dishonest, disloyal, and more and more untrusting by the second!’

  ‘You must have so many things running around in that little head of yours that you’re just dying to tell us,’ Dr Trifle prompted. ‘Come on — talk.’

  Selby straightened up and cleared his throat.

  ‘Okay, so you know,’ he said. ‘To tell you the truth I’m not sick. It’s just that I was answering emails for half the night and then I was afraid I’d talk in my sleep so I stayed awake.’

  Dr and Mrs Trifle reeled back in shock.

  ‘You talked!’ they both screamed at once.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner,’ Selby said.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Dr Trifle said to Mrs Trifle. ‘Actual words — English words — were coming out of his mouth.’

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ Mrs Trifle shrieked. ‘Selby is a talking dog!’

  ‘But you knew that already,’ Selby said.

  ‘We did?’ Dr and Mrs Trifle said together.

  ‘Of course, you heard me talk in my sleep. Why else would you have asked me to talk to you?’

  ‘We didn’t know you could talk,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘You’re a pet. We just talked to you the way people talk to their pets sometimes: like you were a person.’

  ‘We were just kidding,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We were pretending you were human. We had no idea.’

  ‘Oh,’ Selby said, meekly. ‘I guess you know now.’

  ‘We certainly do!’ Mrs Trifle said, picking up the telephone. ‘Oh, Selby, this is wonderful!’

  ‘No, wait!’ Selby said. ‘You’re not going to tell anyone else, are you?’

  ‘Of course I am. This is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened! Surely you can’t expect us to keep quiet about it?’

  ‘Well I was sort of hoping —’

  ‘Hello? International Television? Boy, do I have a story for you! This is Mrs Trifle the former mayor of Bogusville. I just found out that my dog, Selby, can talk. No, this is serious. See for yourself. But get here quickly if you want to break the story because I’ll be ringing other TV networks. Oh, and by the way, bring lots of cash. This is going to cost you.’

  Click.

  ‘Former mayor?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘But you’re still the mayor.’

  ‘I’ve just quit! Whooooppppeeeee!’ Mrs Trifle screamed. ‘I’m Selby’s agent now. And we’re going to make squillions!’

  Mrs Trifle scooped Selby up in her arms and gave him a big kiss.

  ‘I really don’t want anyone to know,’ Selby said.

  ‘Then you shouldn’t have told us,’ Dr Trifle said.

  ‘I don’t want fame,’ Selby said very sadly, ‘and I don’t want you to put me to work.’

  ‘Work?’

  ‘Yes, like around the house.’

  ‘Come to think of it,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘there’s some yucky stuff down behind the fridge. You might just fit. I’ll get a sponge and some soapy water.’

  ‘Darling, how can you even think of that?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Especially when there’s washing up and beds to be made — and the kitchen floor hasn’t been mopped for ages.’

  ‘Oh, woe,’ Selby said. ‘This is exactly what I was afraid of.’

  ‘Well, you are living in our house,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We do feed you and look after you. I mean, you can’t expect a free ride now that we know you can talk.’

  ‘Yes, Selby,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘You wouldn’t want to get a reputation for being lazy, would you?’

  ‘I don’t think I’d mind that,’ Selby said, feebly.

  That day Selby’s worst nightmare came true. Those wonderful people, the Trifles, couldn’t resist telling everyone. Soon there were television reporters queueing up to ask him things like:

  ‘What’s it like being a talking dog?’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess it’s like being a talking person. Only furrier.’

  ‘How did you learn to talk?’

  ‘From watching TV.’

  ‘Really? Which channel were you watching?’

  And on and on and on it went. All that day busloads of people arrived and paid Dr and Mrs Trifle for a glimpse of ‘the Down-Under Wonderdog’.

  ‘I’ve got to get some sleep,’ Selby finally told the Trifles. ‘I can’t even think straight anymore. I’ve been awake for forty-eight hours.’

  ‘All right, Selby,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You get some sleep. We’ll be very quiet and we’ll make sure that the photographers don’t use their flashes when you’re asleep. We’ll wake you at six. You need to be ready for a full day tomorrow.’

  ‘All right,’ Selby mumbled.

  With his last ounce of strength Selby staggered to his mat, curled up and fell into a deep sleep. Suddenly, he was aware of Dr Trifle standing over him.

  ‘Selby, what are you doing here?’

  Before he could answer, Mrs Trifle was standing there too. He opened his eyes to see them in their dressing-gowns. Outside the first rays of sunlight were breaking through the clouds.

  Selby was still half-asleep and wasn’t sure what was going on. There were no photographers, no reporters and he started to wonder if it had all been a dream.

  ‘It’s not like Selby to sleep in the office,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘It is very unusual.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You needed a change, didn’t you sweetie?’

  ‘You’re a little darling, Selby, aren’t you?’ Dr Trifle said, patting him.

  ‘Oh, diddums,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘you really just want us to leave you alone so you can get some more sleep, don’t you?’

  ‘I certainly do,’ Selby thought — being very careful that he didn’t say it out loud. ‘And you two are so kind and considerate.’

  Selby watched as the Trifles tiptoed out of the office.

  ‘That was a terrible dream I had about them,’ he thought. ‘But wait a minute. What if this is the dream now and what I think I dreamt about was really real? What if I’m really asleep and I’m only dreaming that I’m awake?’

  Selby sighed.

  ‘I give up,’ he said, closing his eyes again. ‘There is no way it could be true. I can’t believe I even dreamt those terrible things about the Trifles. They are the loveliest people in the whole world.’

  Selby Sausage

  ‘Horse poo,’ Mrs Trifle announced.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Dr Trifle looked down from the top of his latest invention in the back yard. ‘Have I done something wrong?’

  ‘No, I just said horse poo. They’re giving it away at the Slippery Saddles Riding School. I got some for my vegetable garden,’ Mrs Trifle said, putting down two plastic bags. ‘Do you have to work on that machine today? Don’t you know we’re having a barbecue out here? You haven’t forgotten that Jetty and the boys are coming over, have you?’

  ‘I haven’t and that’s why I’ve made it.’

  ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Yes, it does. Your vegie garden is doing so well that I’ve invented this VDM.’

  ‘A VDM?’

  ‘A Vegie-Dog Machine.’

  Selby lay amongst the pumpkins in the cool of the garden, hidden by their leaves. But at the sound of the word ‘dog’ he pricked up his ears.

  ‘A vegie-dog is a hotdog made just from vegetables and spices,’ Dr Trifle e
xplained. ‘It’s a nice change from the usual meaty, greasy, fatty ones, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, they sound lovely.’

  ‘Well, using my new VDM we can swing this conveyor belt out over the vegie garden, chuck on the vegies, which then go through the machine and come out the other end fully cooked and sizzling hot. When the guests arrive we’ll bung the vegies on the belt and the dogs will drop out onto their plates at the other end like raindrops in a spring rain.’

  ‘That sounds very poetic but does it work?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dr Trifle said, scratching his head. ‘Let’s give it a burl.’

  Dr Trifle turned on the machine. There was a whirring and grinding as lights flashed and the belt started moving. Dr Trifle swung the contraption out over the vegetable garden.

  ‘Watch!’ the doctor said grabbing a handful of zucchinis and another handful of carrots.

  Suddenly Aunt Jetty’s dreadful sons, Willy and Billy, burst into the back yard.

  ‘You’re very early,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Where’s your mother?’

  ‘She said we could come over now,’ Billy said.

  ‘She said we could play with that poopie doggie,’ Willy said.

  ‘Don’t you use that language around here,’ Mrs Trifle snapped.

  ‘I’m sorry, Auntie,’ Willy said. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Frankly, I don’t know. I haven’t seen him all morning. Now, if you boys are good your uncle will show you how his new Vegie-Dog Machine works.’

  ‘Oh, goody goody!’ Billy said. ‘Look, Willy! Unkie’s going to make a dog!’

  ‘I’m going to make hotdogs out of vegetables,’ Dr Trifle said, putting the vegies on the conveyor belt.

  ‘Hang on!’ Mrs Trifle said, as the vegetables disappeared past the hanging strips of rubber and into the machine. ‘You forgot to wash them! They’re covered in dirt!’

  Dr Trifle just smiled as a jet of water blasted the vegetables inside the machine.

  ‘Presto, cleano,’ he said.

  Suddenly, there was a mighty crunching noise that sounded like Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! only a lot louder than that.

  ‘Grab a plate from the table, boys, and follow me!’ Dr Trifle said, running around to the front of the machine.

  They all waited, listening to the most startling noises.

  ‘That sizzling is the vegie-dogs cooking,’ Dr Trifle explained. ‘They should be coming out this end any minute now.’

  Sure enough, off the other end of a metal belt came five sizzling vegie-dogs. The boys bit into theirs.

  ‘Oooo yuck!’ Willy said, spitting his out onto the ground.

  ‘Arrrrgggg!’ Billy said, spitting his out too. ‘That’s foul!’

  ‘Please don’t spit food on the ground,’ Mrs Trifle said, dropping a mouthful of mashed vegie-dog onto her serviette. ‘But I agree. They’re … well … very bland.’

  ‘Ahah!’ Dr Trifle cried. ‘The spice buttons! I forgot to push the spice buttons! Let’s give it another go. This time I’ll give them some basil and oregano and chilli and salt and pepper and they’ll be delicious.’

  ‘I want another one that isn’t stinky and horrible,’ Willy said.

  ‘Me too,’ Billy said.

  ‘The next lot will taste delicious,’ Dr Trifle said.

  ‘We don’t have time to make them now,’ said Mrs Trifle. ‘Your Uncle and I have to go to the shops to get some more food for the barbecue. Want to come along?’

  ‘No!’ screamed Billy and Willy together.

  ‘Okay, suit yourselves. We’ll be back in a few minutes. And don’t you dare touch your Uncle’s new invention, do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, Auntie,’ the boys both said together.

  Minutes later the Trifles had driven off.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Selby thought. ‘I’ve been left alone with those monsters. I’ll just have to lie here under these leaves and stay very still.’ ‘Hey,’ Willy whispered, ‘Let’s look for that stupi-faced stinky doggie.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Billy said.

  Selby began quietly pushing away some loose dirt and easing his body down into the hole.

  ‘They’re going to have to be pretty clever to find this stinky doggie,’ he thought.

  Willy and Billy looked high and low for Selby — but not low enough because Selby had already dug his way down so only his head was above the ground. The pumpkin leaves still covered his head.

  ‘Hey, I’ve got a good idea!’ Billy said.

  ‘What is it?’ Willy asked.

  ‘Let’s help Auntie and Unklie! Let’s make some more vegie-dogs!’

  ‘Yeah, riiiiiiiiight!’ Willy said, pushing all the spice buttons.

  Willy and Billy picked piles of vegetables and heaped them all on the conveyor belt.

  ‘Turn it on!’ Billy squealed.

  ‘No, hang on, let’s put on one of those big orange vegies.’

  Before Selby could think to blink, Willy and Billy were standing over him. Selby quickly put his face down into the dirt so only the back of his head was showing.

  ‘Let’s pick this one,’ Willy said.

  ‘What is it?’ Billy asked.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s a furry vegie. Help me grab it and let’s pull!’

  Willy and Billy grabbed Selby’s head and pulled him out of the ground.

  ‘Hey!’ Willy cried. ‘It’s poop-head! We’ve got him, Billy!’

  ‘What are we going to do with him?’ Billy asked.

  ‘We’re going to make him talk!’ Willy said. ‘You talk to us, stinky!’

  ‘Not on your life — or mine,’ Selby thought. ‘I’m tired of that game, boys.’

  ‘I know,’ Willy cried. ‘Put him in the machine. Come on, Billy.’

  Selby was so surprised that he couldn’t move. He tried to think of what to do but it was hard to come up with an idea while two young boys were squeezing him and pulling him along.

  Willy and Billy dragged Selby to the conveyor belt, almost tripping over the two bags of manure as they did. They pushed the vegetables off the conveyor belt and, holding Selby over it, pressed the ‘Start’ button.

  ‘Now it’s your turn, doggie!’ Willy squealed. ‘You talk or we’ll make you into a vegie-dog.’

  ‘A hot one too, hey, Willy,’ Billy squealed. ‘Yeah, he’s going to be a hot dog. Get it, Willy?’ ‘That was funny, Billy.’

  ‘They’re going to kill me!’ Selby thought. ‘That machine’s going to crunch me into sausage meat! No, no!’

  Willy and Billy held Selby over the speeding conveyor belt.

  ‘You talk now!’ Willy screamed. ‘I’m going to count to ten and then we’re going to drop you. One, two, three … what comes after three, Billy?’

  ‘I don’t know. Sixteen?’

  ‘No, it’s not sixteen, dummy. It’s eight,’ Willy said. ‘One two eight seven. What comes after seven?’

  ‘One.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t, you stupid-head! I already said one!’

  ‘Don’t you call me a stupid-head, you stinky!’

  Willy let go of Selby with one hand and punched Billy. Billy let go with one of his hands and punched him back. Everything would have been okay except that Selby suddenly slipped down towards the conveyor belt.

  ‘Stop fighting, you idiots!’ he groaned. ‘Grab me!’

  ‘He talked! He talked!’ Billy cried.

  ‘I told you so,’ Willy said. ‘Now let’s make him into a hot dog. Drop him, Billy!’

  ‘No, don’t!’ Selby cried. ‘I did what you wanted and now you have to get me off.’

  ‘Oh, no we don’t,’ Willy said. ‘Hold him there, Billy!’

  ‘No, stop, I’ll count to ten for you,’ Selby said. ‘Here we go now: one two three four five,’ Selby said, making his voice go softer and softer. ‘Six …’

  ‘I can’t hear you,’ Billy said.

  ‘I said, six,’ Selby whispered, ‘seven eight nine and …’

  By now the boy’s ears were very close to Selby
’s mouth.

  ‘What? What’s next?’ Willy said. ‘Come on, doggie!’

  Suddenly Selby screamed at the top of his lungs, ‘TEN!’

  Willy and Billy let go of Selby and grabbed their ears.

  ‘That hurt!’ Willy bawled.

  Selby bounced on the conveyor belt and quickly hopped down to the ground, taking off across the yard.

  ‘Get him, Billy!’ Willy screamed.

  The boys took off and chased Selby round and round and round the VDM but Selby always managed to stay on the opposite side. And when they changed direction, he changed too.

  ‘I know,’ Billy whispered to Willy. ‘You go that way and I’ll go this way.’ ‘Right!’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ Selby thought. ‘What am I going to do? Where can I hide?’

  Willy and Billy raced around the machine from opposite directions and crashed into each other at the back.

  ‘Where is he? Where’d he go?’ Willy squealed.

  Suddenly there was the sound of spraying water followed by a terrible Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! from inside the machine.

  ‘He went in the machine, Willy!’ Billy said.

  ‘I know,’ Willy said. ‘We got him! We got him!’

  Willy and Billy raced around to the other end of the VDM.

  ‘I think he’s going to be one of those sausage dogs, Billy,’ Willy said.

  ‘Hey, that’s not funny, Willy. We’re in big trouble. We grinded him up. And it’s all your fault!’

  ‘It’s not my fault, Billy, it’s your fault!’

  Just then some very strange smelling sausages came out of the machine. Willy and Billy each picked one up in their fingers.

  ‘I think I’m sorry,’ Willy said looking at the sausage.

  ‘Are you sorry we deaded the doggie, Willy?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’m sorry too, Willy. I want to talk to him again.’

  ‘You can’t talk to him now, Billy.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Cause he’s a lot of sausages, that’s why.’

  The boys looked at the pile of sausages on the ground and then the ones in their fingers as tears streamed down their faces.

  ‘Boo hoo hoo,’ Willy wailed.

  ‘Boo hoo (sniff)’ Billy wailed even louder.

  ‘Hey!’ Mrs Trifle suddenly appeared with Dr Trifle just behind her. ‘Didn’t I tell you not to turn on that machine? And look what you’ve done to my vegetable garden!’