Kat the Dog: The Seventh Pup

A puppy is born at Kymera on the seventh day of the seventh month of the year 2023.

The seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, gifted with magic powers from birth, Kat is destined to become leader of Dogsworld.

Queenie, Top Dog at Kymera, must keep the newborn safe from evil forces set on destroying her.

The pup bonds with Olivia, the orphaned granddaughter of Archie, who is in charge of Kymera, a magical realm, where dogs talk to each other and fairies, who inhabit the old willow tree, can grant wishes. But Kymera is in danger of being stolen away from them.

Kat, Olivia and the other dogs will do all they can to save their precious home.

 AMAZON

 

Archie’s son, Nick, has come down to Kymera to discuss the sale of the recently-born Jack Russell pups, including Kat, unaware that Kat has magic powers. Queenie, top dog, should be making sure that Kat does not display her powers in front of humans.

Nick sprawled untidily on the wobbly chair at the table in the garden, Pookah at his feet, as Queenie and Duke kept a watchful eye on him from the Manor steps.

Olivia emerged from the Puppy Palace, the pup, a bundle of black and white fluff, stuffed inside her jumper.

‘How you doing, darling?’ shouted Nick. ‘Is that the runt you’ve got down your top? What are you like? Let’s have a gander then.’

The doves bobbing about on the grass, hopeful of a crumb or two, scattered as he lurched to his feet, gut hanging over his trousers, and leaned forward to ruffle Olivia’s hair.

‘She’s tired today,’ she said, flinching and clutching Kat tightly to her.

‘Tired? Been up all night, has it? Hand it over,’ said Nick, holding out his hand expectantly.

Queenie watched Olivia narrow her eyes as if willing a big hole to open and swallow Nick up. No such luck as he snatched the pup off her and proceeded to examine her eyes and ears and then roughly poked and prodded her belly, making her squeak.

Duke edged forward, growling softly, eyeing Nick up like he was a piece of prime rump steak.

Archie frowned as he came down the Manor steps carrying a tray with a pot of tea and several cups.

Even Valentino’s tail had come to a standstill.

‘A bit puny, but it’ll do,’ said Nick, oblivious to the increasingly hostile atmosphere around him. ‘A lot of people prefer them smaller. Might even fetch more than the bigger ones, especially with that fluffy coat. What d’you say, Dad?’

‘Now, hold on, Nick,’ said Archie, glancing towards Olivia.

‘Hold on, my backside,’ said Nick.

‘He might just get his wish,’ Duke muttered to Queenie.

‘Don’t tell me you’re going soft, Dad. This pup gets sold with the rest of them. I’m not being done out of my fair share, I’m telling you now. This is business. I’ve got someone lined up for it anyway.’

‘Olivia’s got attached, looking after it and feeding it up. I thought we might keep it.’ Archie began pouring the tea into the cups, his face expressionless.

‘Keep it?’ yelled Nick, his face turning purple. ‘What? With all these other mutts, like that useless sheepdog, hanging around, not earning their keep? We’re not having another one cluttering up the place, eating all the profits. It’s our Pookah the lass needs to look out for, never mind this puny article. It’s going at any rate.  Here,’ he said, shoving Kat back at Olivia, ‘make as much fuss as you want of it for now, because soon…’

Duke moved to Olivia’s side and Valentino positioned himself next to her on the other, whilst Archie went to stand behind her, laying a protective hand on her shoulder. Queenie stood shoulder to calf with Archie.

The little pup stretched up to her full height, eyes trained on Nick.

Go on, Kat! I know you shouldn’t. But go on.

The air suddenly went still. Even the leaves on the trees looked stunned.

A low, grumbling growl issued forth from the dogs except for Pookah, who cowered under the table.

Nick’s face grew all ugly and distorted as he took a step back. ‘What’s all this then?’ he stammered. ‘What’s wrong with these dogs?’

He took another step back.

‘Watch out, Nick,’ yelled Archie.

‘Whoa,’ shouted Nick, as he lost his footing, staggered, arms flailing, and fell backwards, splat, into the duck pond.

There was a flurry of angry flapping wings from Turner and Hooch, the two Muscovy ducks, who didn’t take kindly to intruders in their home.

Archie rushed forward to help Nick out.

Pookah was straight by his side.

‘I’m all right, I’m all right,’ he spluttered, dripping water everywhere as Archie hauled him to his feet. ‘There’s something wrong with that dog, I’m telling you.’ Nick pointed an accusing finger in the dogs’ general direction.

‘What dog?’ said Archie.

‘That little runt dog, the one you’re so keen to keep. It’s evil, that’s what it is. It made me fall in that pond.’

‘Honestly, Nick, it’s only a pup,’ said Archie. ‘You stepped back and lost your footing. You can’t blame the little thing.’

‘I’m telling you,’ he roared. ‘Its eyes went bright green and then this beam of white light shot out of them and pushed me into the pond. You must have seen it. Tremendous force. You mark my words, that dog is contaminated.’

‘White light…? Contaminated…?’ repeated Archie, shaking his head. ‘Are you feeling all right, Nick? You didn’t bump your head when you fell, did you? Come and sit down over here a minute.’

‘No, I didn’t. And I didn’t fall neither. I was pushed. By, by…THAT,’ he snarled, pointing at the pup again.

‘I think you’re right, Granddad,’ said Olivia. ‘Uncle Nick must have bumped his head. He should go home and rest.’

*****

Jo, my mum, doesn’t like to talk about herself much, so I’ll just tell you a bit about her. That’s Mum and me – I’m called Arthur by the way – in the picture.

When she was a little girl, a voice in her head told her that she had to like dogs. That was when she was about five years old and didn’t know any dogs. Then a family moved in next door with a little heeler-cross called Trixie. Remembering the voice in her head, Jo tried to like Trixie, but it wasn’t easy. Trixie would run up to her wagging her tail, then she’d roll on to her back, still wagging her tail, asking for her tummy to be tickled. Jo would oblige, and then Trixie would try and bite her. Not the best start.

But Jo didn’t forget about the voice and, when she was 8 years old, she went down to the local kennels, where she met Jim, who was very kind with her and they became friends. Jo’s love of dogs began to grow. She went to the kennels whenever she had any spare time and decided she would like to own her own kennels one day.

At the age of about ten, she went to a garden fete with her best friend, where she met Lassie, her first dog, and decided to bring her home. Her mum and dad weren’t too chuffed, but they soon fell in love with Lassie.

Life took over and, instead of following a career with dogs, Jo went to university to study languages and then moved abroad for a few years. But she missed England and eventually came back home, trained to become an acupuncturist and herbalist, and started going back to the kennels again. Of course, she was older and Jim was older, but the friendship was still strong. And then Kat was born and Jo decided to write about her.

So there you have it. I’m Kat’s great grandson and Peggy, who lived with us, was her great granddaughter. But I’m the one most like Kat. I used to be very feisty and sometimes even growl at Mum. But she knew I didn’t mean it. I would never bite her of course, but I’d sometimes have a go at poor Peggy instead (I am a Jack Russell after all). I’m much quieter now, but still going strong at the grand old age of seventeen, probably because Mum feeds me herbs and other goodies, and even occasionally sticks needles in me, which I don’t especially like, but she tells me it’s good for me. And mums always know best!

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