on my paws and closed my eyes. ‘As I thought.’
‘As you thought what?’
‘Nothing. All you need to know is that there is no need for you to worry. There really isn’t. I am a Labrador,’ I told her. ‘The Family will be safe.’
There was a pause, and then she started to purr. ‘Oh darling, you are a silly little dog,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t worried.’
* * *
Of course, Lapsang didn’t know about the Pact. She didn’t know that we were the only dogs left who were willing to devote our lives to the protection of our masters. She didn’t realise that every other breed had given up on the cause. She didn’t even realise there had been a cause to begin with. She was a cat, after all.
But as I reopened my eyes and stared at the four pairs of shoes, neatly arranged by Kate in front of the vegetable rack by the back door, I couldn’t prevent Lapsang’s words from echoing in my brain.
. . . get too close to the Family, you will end up going down . . .
The Labrador Pact: Prepare for changes in human behaviour
Human life does not fit comfortably within a plan. Despite their best efforts, humans are continually jolted off course by the events around them. Even when the event has been anticipated, or experienced before, it can still have a profound effect on our masters’ behaviour.
It is our duty, as Labradors, to be prepared for change at any time. We must realise that it is our presence, and its suggestion that some things will always stay the same, which can help to return humans back to normality.
Whatever changes occur, we must remain consistent to our goal. Ultimately, we should remember that the security of the human Family is not placed at risk from the alterations in behaviour, but from our under-prepared reactions to them.
happy
Adam unclipped the lead but kept his hand on my nose.
‘Stay.’
This was always his favourite game.
‘Stay.’
To keep me still for as long as possible.
‘Sta-ay.’
Sitting on the grass in the park.
‘Good boy. Stay.’
While he trod backwards.
‘Stay there. Stay.’
To give him a head start.
‘Go on, boy! Come on!’
I was off like a whippet. Mind you, I needed to be, seeing that Adam’s starting post and finishing line were only a dog’s length away from being the same thing. But I loved this. I loved making him happy. I loved watching him, the way he craned his head back as he pushed his way through the invisible tape.
‘It’s a draw,’ he panted, although I was sure he knew I had him by a nose.
power
If I am trying to remember when it all started, when I first began to question my power, it would be hard to isolate a specific moment. It certainly didn’t happen overnight. I never woke up in my basket to find the whole Family suddenly beyond my control as they sat down for breakfast.
All I can say is that there was a time when everything seemed to be OK, when the Labrador Pact held all the answers and the Hunters appeared unthreatened by the world outside.
It may have been an illusion. In fact, I know it was. But it was an illusion every member of the Family bought into. And although I can’t remember when I started to doubt the Pact, I can remember when this illusion started to fade.
It didn’t start with the broken bottle, not really. It happened the week after. The day Hal got better.
mirror-girl
I was worried about Hal, but this was not a new thing. I had been worried for quite some time.
About the way he never seemed to be himself, in front of anyone. About the way he was loud and confident within the Family, but remained petrified of the world outside. About the way he would talk to the mirror as if it was the girl of his dreams, Laura Shepherd. That evening I just lay there, on his bedroom floor, watching intently.
‘Hi, Laura,’ he said. And then he tried it in a different tone. ‘Hi, Laura.’
He asked her out on a fictional date. ‘What are you doing on Friday night?’ he said, raising an expectant eyebrow.
Of course, the mirror-girl did not reply, and he did not press her. Instead, he waited for her to turn away, or disappear entirely, so that he could squeeze his blackheads.
voice
A voice, from downstairs. His mother’s: ‘Your meal’s ready.’
meal
I went back downstairs and sat in my basket to observe everything, as I always did. Halfway through, Charlotte put her knife and fork down. Kate noticed she had left her fish. ‘You’ve left your fish,’ Kate said.
Charlotte took a deep breath, and announced: ‘I’ve decided to become a vegetarian.’
‘But, Charlotte,’ protested her mother, ‘you don’t like vegetables.’
‘I don’t like eating dead animals either.’
‘One in ten people in Britain are vegetarian,’ said Hal, as he swallowed a mouthful of fish.
Adam placed a hand on Kate’s arm. ‘If Charlotte doesn’t want to eat meat, that has to be her own decision.’
‘Adam, she’s thirteen.’
‘And out of all population segments, teenage girls are most likely to be vegetarian,’ continued Hal. ‘I think it’s because they like to take control over their own diet. It’s a power issue, basically.’
Charlotte tutted at her brother in disdain. ‘In a hundred years’ time everyone will be vegetarian because everyone will realise how disgusting and primitive and barbaric it is to eat other animals. We should all be equal.’
‘But Charlotte, you need to eat fish and meat to get all your vitamins and protein,’ said Kate.
Charlotte looked at me. ‘Well, Prince has got a lot of vitamins and protein so why don’t we eat him?’
Hal snorted in amusement. ‘Because he wouldn’t fit in the oven.’
‘Charlotte, you’re being ridiculous,’ said Kate. ‘Dogs are different.’
Adam sat forward in his chair. ‘But she does make an interesting point. I mean, we only find the idea of eating Prince more repulsive because we humanise dogs more than other animals.’
Kate stared at the ceiling, while Adam carried on. ‘I mean, dogs have their own therapists now, don’t they? And their own perfume ranges. I read in the paper that in London there’s even a restaurant for dogs. It probably won’t be too long before they even have their own vegetarian restaurants. Imagine that.’
‘Yes,’ said Kate, disappointed but unsurprised by her husband’s lack of support on this issue. ‘Imagine.’
phone
And that was it. Right there. The last time everything was normal.
Because that was when the phone rang.