The Creatures of Chichester - the one about the stolen dog

1 The red-headed Twoleg

Button, warm and full of flies, watched as the Twolegs rushed down North Street on their way home from the theatre. The Twolegs always made so much noise. Shouting and shoving each other, they seemed to have enjoyed watching the musical that had just finished at the Festival Theatre.

Some of them were humming their favourite songs. Others just wanted to get out of the falling rain - all except one little Twoleg who was all on her own. She was not singing or shouting; just staring at her reflection in the shop window. It was clear that she didn't like what she saw. She didn't like it at all!

As the rain grew heavier, she peered at a missing dog poster. Four little blobs of sticky stuff held the sheet of paper to the window. It had a picture of a missing dog and a description of a Twoleg that had been seen taking the dog away.

The spider crawled down from his web to have a closer look. Some people might have said that Button was a bit nosey but he was really just interested in the things that went on around him. He was quite bright for a spider and took care of his looks so that his eight long furry legs were always neat and tidy with never a hair out of place.

The dog on the poster was Streak, who lived at the butcher’s shop which was not far from the big fire station at the top of North Street. Not far for a Twoleg anyway, but miles away for a spider floating on a strand of silk.

Mr Penfold, who ran the butcher’s, often came into the shop and must have persuaded Marco, the owner, to put up the poster. Streak, a timid little pup – all ears and paws, had been seen two days ago being led away by a young Twoleg. The Twoleg was described as about ten years old with striking red hair, wearing green school uniform and black shoes.

Button glanced out to the little Twoleg standing outside the window. Her red hair was stuck to her face and big raindrops were dripping down her green school uniform. She’d been found out and it wouldn’t be long before the cops had their dog thief. Huge tear drops were mingling with the rain and running down the Twoleg’s face, but they didn’t look like the tears of an evil dog snatcher. They looked like the tears of someone who needed help. Someone who was innocent and scared. Very scared.

Stitchley had also noticed the Twoleg and was sobbing big spider tears. Well, she would have been if spiders could sob tears but was making big spider-tear motions and looking very sad indeed. Although she was larger than Button she was still his baby sister and not very brave. She had a softer paler body and eight bright shiny eyes that never missed a thing.

‘We have to help her,’ said Stitchley, who was the mothering kind. ‘There’s something not right here. I can feel it in my web.’

‘But we don’t even know what the problem is!’ said Button. ‘Maybe she just doesn’t like the rain or hates those fluffy cashmere jumpers in the window. Or maybe she’s sorry that she stole the dog and has been found out. Anyway, what can we do? We’re only spiders after all.’

‘We’ll float over to the butcher’s and speak to Knuckles. He’ll know what’s been going on,’ said Stitchley. ‘Come on; stop checking yourself out in the mirror. We’ve got work to do.’

As the little Twoleg moved away from the window, Button thought he saw her look up for a second to where Stitchley was crouching. The rain grew heavier and all the other Twolegs were now mostly gone from North Street. A few older ones remained tottering down the street with bent umbrellas blowing in the wind.

None of them had noticed the little Twoleg as she tried to dry her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket which was already wet through. It made little impact and her face remained red and tearful as she slowly walked away from the shop.

Button climbed higher up the window and watched until she disappeared from view. She shrugged her shoulders up against the rain and wind and hid her face away so that no one could see her cry. She became just a little green and red dot on the horizon then disappeared from view behind the old cross at the bottom of North Street.

Button had a funny feeling that this would not be the last he’d see of her and crawled off to find out what Stitchley was planning.

‘Are you coming?’ she asked Button. ‘or are you going to spend the whole day admiring the suits and jackets, wishing that some of them had eight legs and were just a little bit smaller so that they’d fit you? Mind you, the way that you’ve been eating those flies lately – you’ll soon be big enough to fit into one yourself!’ 

Meanwhile, in a cold damp garage just a few streets away from Marco’s, Streak was whimpering in a corner. He was a strange looking puppy and wasn’t exactly sure who his mother and father were. Mr Penfold used to say that he got his long floppy ears from his mum and his stiff little tail from his dad. He wasn’t quite the right shape to be a hunting dog and his golden, curly fur reminded some people of a poodle. All in all he was a bit of a mix of everything.

Streak hadn’t had anything to eat for several hours and missed his friend Knuckles and his lovely warm basket at Mr Penfold’s. He regretted running up to the little Twoleg with the wild and unruly hair who had seemed so kind at first - holding her hand out with some doggy-snacks and calling his name. And they weren’t just any doggy-snacks. They were his favourite ones. The snacks made from pig’s feet, chicken beaks and sawdust. Yummy!

But the smiling face of the little Twoleg had changed suddenly as she grabbed him roughly by the collar and tied a length of rope around his neck. It had dug into his fur as she pulled it tight and although he’d struggled and yelped, nobody had come to help him. Some of the other Twolegs turned to look but they evidently thought he was just a naughty puppy being trained to behave and before long he was whisked away and locked in the garage.

That was two days ago but it felt like an eternity. He wished that he was big and strong like Knuckles, who was street-wise and would never have gone off with a stranger. Now he was cold and hungry and all alone in the dark. He found an old sack and curled up on it, making one last tiny little whimper before falling asleep.

In his dream, Streak saw flying spiders coming to his rescue. They were the size of small helicopters and had laser guns strapped to their bodies and grenade launchers and light-sabres in their claws. They glowed purple in the night sky as each let out a terrifying screech, like a wounded fox. Twolegs were running in all directions as the grenades exploded around them. Then a giant redheaded creature appeared above the

Cathedral like a huge monster from Mars. It had black slime oozing from its eyes as it tried to swipe away the flying spiders. But they flew around her in even greater numbers, screaming all the time. Then they started firing red-hot silk from their bellies that shot across the sky, trapping the monster on the Cathedral green until it climbed higher and higher up the Cathedral walls shattering the stained-glass windows into a million pieces.

Streak woke with a jump as the monster hurled itself off the Cathedral roof..‘I must stop eating those doggy-snacks!’ he growled to himself and thought again of how hungry he was and wondered if the angry little Twoleg would be back soon with some food.

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