The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

with his claws he went to town on it, enthusiastically working it clean with his tongue with such relish that she didn’t have the heart to take it off him. Besides, she too had read somewhere that butter was good for adding a healthy sheen to dogs’ coats, and Quassi’s did look rather lustreless. She’d let it pass, just this once.
    She soon rued the decision though, when he abandoned the mutilated remains of the toast, and making his way to the French door, applied thick buttery streaks to the clean glass, as he demanded to go out. With images of puddles appearing everywhere, Meli put aside her frustration about the mess for the moment, and asked. “Has Quassi been out yet?” Both boys shrugged. “Come on then, one of you take him out into the garden.”
    George slid from his chair. “Come on Quassi,” he called, slapping his hand against his leg in an attempt to get his attention. Quassi ignored him. He’d rolled over, and at that moment had his head stuck between his spread-eagled legs, and was busy giving his nether regions a glorious shine with his buttery tongue. Meli averted her gaze, grateful that she hadn’t been born a dog; give her a wet wipe any day.
    “Told you he was dumb,” sniffed David. Meli stiffened, expecting some offensive statement to follow concerning Quassi’s current activity, but she grinned slightly when David continued. “I bet if we’d called him Darth Vader he would have answered to that.”
    Tutting, as much as to say that Quassi had let him down big time, George grabbed him by the collar and hauled him onto his four feet. Meli watched with some horror as the poor dogs eyes almost popped from their sockets, before George released his throttling hold. Totally none the worse for his experience, and not holding any grudge at George for his rough treatment, Quassi’s tail whirled happily as George pushed wide the French door. Three rabbits, who had been nibbling the dew coated grass, made a dash for cover the moment the door was opened, with Quassi in hot pursuit of their bobbing white tails.
    Scrabbling around in the cupboard under the sink, in search of a cloth to clean up the incriminating butter marks, Meli jerked upright when a hand was suddenly placed on her backside. Her lips stretched into a grin as Cal caught her in his arms, his pot-belly fitting snugly into the small of her back. “What have you got planned for today?” he asked, nuzzling her neck affectionately.
    “Well, most importantly I’ll be stocking up on some nice wine, then I’ll need to buy a couple more bits for Quassi (she was thinking specifically about flea powder, but thought she would spare Cal the unsavoury notion), then I’ll visit the stockist and sort my first order.” Cal nodded, visibly preening that he had been relegated to the number one spot again.
    “Can you give Cass another call for me?” Meli asked Cal when he moved away, suddenly aware that her daughter was still nowhere to be seen. Nodding, Cal stopped at the bottom of the stairs, spent a moment straightening his tie in the mirror before calling Cassie in a deep headmasterish voice that was guaranteed to reach into every recess, penetrate every closed door. Meli had often wished she shared this enviable talent. “See you later,” he called to Meli as he grabbed his keys from the sideboard and left.
    Placing the boys’ sandwiches in their lunch boxes, Meli took a moment to reflect with some maternal satisfaction, that they had actually listened to her yesterday, and eaten their sandwiches. It had taken a while (and was nothing short of a miracle), but the nagging and perseverance had been well worth it, provided yesterday wasn’t just a fluke. Meli heard the sound of floorboards creaking overhead. She snapped the lid of David’s lunchbox closed. If they were late today it would be Cassie’s fault, not hers.
    George and Quassi exploded back into the kitchen. “He peed twenty two times,” he announced proudly.
    “Bet he didn’t,” David retorted, although Meli detected a spark of fascination in his voice.
    “Bet he did.”
    Meli switched off as the boys got into one of their petty arguments.
    Quassi, suddenly spying Cassie on the stairs, trotted off to greet her. Bouncing on an invisible trampoline around her legs he pawed at her, craving her attention. “Oh get out of the way you stupid beast,” Cassie growled, trying not to trip over him.
    “Someone got out of bed the wrong side,” Meli commented, giving