Chapter Two
The box seemed to be getting colder and colder. The April night had been frosty, and the puppies had huddled together to keep warm. They weren’t used to being outside at night and there was only the thin cardboard box between them and the concrete steps. They had always slept in their comfortable basket, snuggled up next to their mother. The cold was a frightening shock.
The smallest of the three, the tiny girl puppy, woke up first. She was miserably stiff, the cold aching inside her, and she scrabbled worriedly at the cardboard under her paws. Her two brothers were still asleep, curled up together, but somehow during the night she had rolled away from them. Now she was on her own in the corner of the box, shivering and hungry.
She tried to scratch at the side of the box, wondering if she could get out, and somehow find her way back to her mother.
But even her claws hurt this morning, and she felt weak and sleepy. Too feeble to claw a hole in the side of a box.
She still didn’t understand what had happened. Why had they been taken away from their mother, and their warm basket? Was someone going to come and get them, and take them back to her? When they’d been put into the box, she’d heard her mother barking and whining – she hadn’t wanted them to go any more than they had. The littlest puppy had a horrible feeling that they might not be going back.
Zoe and her aunt were nearly at the shelter. Zoe could feel herself speeding up. She loved it when they got to be the ones who opened up at Redlands – it was a real treat, and usually only happened if Auntie Jo let her come and help on a Saturday. She knew that all the animals would be excited to see someone after the night on their own. The dogs would be the most obvious about it, jumping about and scrabbling at the wire mesh on the front of their pens, and barking like mad. But even the cats, who usually liked to be more stand-offish, would spring up from their baskets, and come to see who was there. The shelter had a big pen full of guinea pigs at the moment, so there would be mad squeaking from them as well.
Auntie Jo was searching in her bag for the keys, so it was Zoe who first noticed that there was something strange on the front steps.
“What’s that?” she asked curiously, frowning at what looked like a box in front of the main door to the shelter.
Auntie Jo looked up from the bunch of keys. “What?”
“There. On the steps. Maybe someone’s donated food to the shelter, Auntie Jo!” People did bring in pet food for the animals occasionally, Zoe had seen them. “It’s funny that they didn’t bring it in when there was someone who could say thank you, though.”
“Mmmm…” Auntie Jo was walking faster now, the keys dangling forgotten in her hand.
“What’s the matter?” Zoe asked. She could see that her aunt looked worried.
“People leave us other things too, Zoe,” Auntie Jo sighed. “It might be an abandoned animal in that box. If it is, I suppose that at least they’ve brought it to us, but I hate it when they just leave it like that.”
Zoe felt her eyes filling with tears. The box was just a box, a shabby cardboard one. How could someone stuff a cat or a dog in there, and then just leave it? It was so mean!
They hurried up the steps, and sat down slowly, one on either side of the lid. Auntie Jo took a deep breath. “I never get used to this,” she murmured, as she started to unfold the flaps on the top. “It’s been such a cold night. Look, there’s frost on the top. If there’s something inside, I hope it hasn’t been in there long.”
There was a feeble scrabbling noise from inside the box, and Zoe caught her breath. “There is something inside there!”
Auntie Jo frowned at the box. “Yes. And I’m being silly, Zo. We should take the box inside. We don’t want whoever’s in here getting scared and leaping out.”
Zoe nodded. “Good idea. Shall I take it?” she asked hopefully. “You unlock the door.”
Carefully, Zoe slipped her hands underneath the box, shivering as she touched the clammy, cold cardboard. Whoever was in it must have spent a miserably cold night. She heaved the box up, and felt something inside it wriggle. There was a worried little squeak, and a yap.
“It’s OK,” she whispered. “We’re just taking you into the shelter. It’ll be nice and warm in there. Well, warmer than out here, anyway.”
Auntie Jo had unlocked the doors now, and she was just turning off the alarm. She held the door open for Zoe, and they hurried into the reception area, putting the box down on one of the chairs.
“I think it’s a dog,” Zoe told her aunt. “I definitely heard a yapping noise. But it can’t be a very big dog, the box hardly weighed anything at all.”
“Let’s see.” Auntie Jo lifted the flaps of the box – it was meant to hold packets of chocolate biscuits, Zoe noticed – and they both peered in.
Staring anxiously up at them were three tiny brown-and-white puppies.
Chapter Three
The littlest puppy flinched back against the side of the box. She was still so tired from being bounced and shaken around, and now the light was flooding in, after hours of being shut in the dark. It hurt her eyes and she whimpered unhappily. Her bigger, stronger brothers recovered more quickly, bouncing up to see what was happening, and where they were. But the little girl puppy pressed her nose into the corner of the box, hiding away from the light. She was too cold and tired to get up, anyway.
Zoe and her aunt gazed inside, and Zoe pushed her hand into Auntie Jo’s. She’d never seen such little puppies at the shelter, she was sure. They were the smallest pups she’d ever seen anywhere. “Oh my goodness, three of them,” murmured Auntie Jo.
“They’re so tiny,” Zoe whispered. “They can hardly weigh anything at all.”
Auntie Jo nodded. “Mmmm. They’re far too young to be away from their mother, really. They can only be a few weeks old. Well done for keeping quiet, Zo. We don’t want to scare them. They may not be used to seeing different people.”
The puppies were looking up at Zoe and Auntie Jo uncertainly. One of the boy puppies scrabbled hopefully at the side of the box, clearly wanting to be lifted out.
“Well, he’s not shy,” Auntie Jo laughed quietly.
Very gently, she slipped her hands into the box, and lifted out the puppy.
He wagged his stubby little tail, and licked her fingers. “Yes, you’re a darling, aren’t you?” She turned to Zoe. “They must be starving if they’ve been in this box all night. Now I can see him properly, I don’t think this little boy can be more than four weeks old. He’s probably only just been weaned from his mother. They should be having four or five meals a day, and a bit of their mum’s milk still.”
Zoe giggled. “That’s why he’s trying to eat your fingers…” Then she looked worriedly down into the box. “Auntie Jo, what about the little puppy in the corner? Is she OK? She isn’t moving like the other two.”
Her aunt sighed. “No, she isn’t… We’d better have a look at her. Can you bring the box along to one of the puppy pens? Then we’ll have somewhere cosy for them to curl up, and we can mix up some puppy milk. Maybe a little bit of Weetabix mixed in it too. We’ll have to see what they think. They may not have had any solid food yet.”