The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

bedroom doors shut to keep him out.
    “Here mum,” George said in a lilting voice as he released the squirming dog, “Let me get rid of those for you.”
    “That’s very nice of you,” Meli said, handing him the bowl. “Just how many names did you come up with?”
    “’Bout twenty. We chose ten different names each.” Rushing into the kitchen, George quickly emptied the scraps of paper into the bin, shoulders shaking as he sniggered to himself. Unbeknown to his brother, he had written out the one name fourteen times, just to increase the odds of his name favourite being picked.

Chapter 7

    “Here Quassi. Come on Quassi.”
    At first, Meli thought she must be having a nightmare, but then recognising George’s piercing tones and remembering Dog’s new name, she groaned out loud. How could George wake her, even before the alarm clock had had time to do the dirty deed? Dragging at the quilt she pulled it up over her head. She obviously wasn’t the only one to be disturbed.
    “Will you shut up?” Bellowed a furious ogress from Cassie’s room. Meli clearly heard a missile strike the door before clattering to the floor.
    “Quassi, Quassi.” The name was accompanied by the pounding of feet and the pitter-patter of excited paws along the landing as George and Quassi ran up and down.
    “George, will you pipe down,” came Cal’s angry tones from the bathroom, “Some people are still trying to sleep.”
    Bless him, thought Meli. Rolling over she caught sight of the clock. Only ten minutes to go, but those ten minutes seemed so precious. Closing her eyes she curled into a cosy ball.
    “Quassi.”
    Meli’s body went into spasm. Why was it that kids had the knack of whispering at twenty decibels louder than a Drill Sergeant at dawn? Giving up all hopes of luxuriating in her ten minutes, Meli wearily threw back the covers. Making her way bare foot across the carpet she threw open the curtains to inspect the new day. Outside it was overcast and breezy, the wind carrying the scent of the pines on the hillside through the open window. She snatched in a heady lungful of the fragrant, fresh air.
    Mindful of her promise to Cass yesterday, to ensure that they were not late for school, Meli hurried to rouse the troops. Pausing in the open doorway of the boys’ bedroom, she found it deserted, the rumpled beds already vacated. That was a good sign. She continued along the landing, and then knocking on Cassie’s door, called. “Time to get up.”
    “He’s a stupid dog anyway.” David aired his low opinion of their new pet in a loud nasal voice aimed at his brother, who was ignoring him as he busied himself buttering a pile of toast. “If he had a flea on him it would raise their joint I.Q to one.” Meli’s ears pricked up, she hadn’t thought about the possibility of fleas. She shifted her eyes and watched as Quassi squatted down and lifting his left hind foot proceeded to scratch frantically at something behind his ear. “He won’t come when he’s called. I told you it was a stupid name.” This last statement was directed solely at his mother, stimulated by the arrival of a potentially more responsive audience. He was obviously still bristling over the fact that one of George’s choices had been picked.
    Meli cast Quassi a sympathetic look, while absently scratching under the neckline of her tee shirt. “He just needs to get used to it, that’s all.” Abandoning his ear, Quassi leaped onto all fours, his tail whirling as he gently accepted the slice of thickly buttered toast George was offering him. “No feeding Quassi at the table,” Meli ordered crossly. “That is definitely not allowed.” Her gaze flicked back to the pile of toast as though seeing it for the first time. There had to be at least five slices, and George never had toast for breakfast. “And if that lot is for Quassi, you’re in the dog house.”
    With a frantic shake of his head, George snatched up a slice and ripped off a corner with his teeth.
    “Told you mum wouldn’t like that,” David took great pleasure in sniding at his brother.
    With a troubled gulp, George forced down the toast. “But butter is good for his coat; I read it in a book.” He flicked his glistening blue eyes at his mother, as though totally confident that this snippet of knowledge about dog care would be totally indisputable, and therefore result in her support.
    Meli watched disdainfully as Quassi dropped his treat on the floor, and pinning it down