Where Have You Been, Ellie?

Sarah Holroyd

Description

Sarah Holroyd and her family, owned Ellie for fifteen years, Ellie was very inquisitive and adventurous and loved to explore. The book been written so she could relive the adventures of her much-loved basset hound with everyone.

Sujets

• Fiction Jeunesse
• Juvenilee Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris UK
• Date de parution: 28 décembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781664118324
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 3 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2023 by Sarah Holroyd. 847044

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without

permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either

are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and

any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is

entirely coincidental.

Illustrations by: Gail Jacalan

Xlibris

UK TFN: 0800 0148620 (Toll Free inside the UK)

UK Local: 02 0369 56328 ([phone] from outside the UK)

www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk

ISBN:

Softcover

978-1-6641-1831-7

EBook

978-1-6641-1832-4

Rev. date: 12/28/2022
This book is dedicated to Samantha and her family.
My thanks Bob Smith, who assisted me with the project.

CONTENTS
Chapter 1 How I Got My Name
Chapter 2 A New Home
Chapter 3 Picked Up by the Police
Chapter 4 Down by the River
Chapter 5 Homecoming(s)

CHAPTER
How I Got My Name
S o here I am with Mum, Rosie, three sisters, and two brothers. We are a litter of basset hounds, and Mum is very proud of us all. Our home with our owners, Sarah and Bob, is a large dairy farm in Lambourne. The farm was very old and needed a lot of work done. It had a musty smell, but in the kitchen was a large Aga for cooking and heating that was lovely and warm, where we would all cosy up with Mum at night. The garden was also a bit unkempt, with long grass, nettles, weeds, and (ouch) the odd thistle. It didn’t stop us from playing there, as it was almost perfect for puppy hide-and-seek. We were happy.
When we got a little older, Bob would take us to the milking parlour. We were told to keep away from the cows, especially the back legs when they were being milked. One of my brothers was very curious and was admonished by Bob.
‘Keep away from the cows, boy, or you’ll be getting kicked one of these days!’
My brother was very brave, and I wanted to be like him, inquisitive, and all the time with a mind to explore. I didn’t fancy being kicked by a cow, though.
We all played happily together, and I thought we were going to live and play together forever . But as the weeks went by, I sensed a little sorrow intruding into our doggie lives. The first time this became real, a couple turned up, very nice, and made a fuss of us, picking up each brother but not the girl puppies.
When they picked up my most inquisitive brother, Sandra said, ‘We’ll take him, and we are going to call him Bertie.’ And with that my brother was gone.
‘Rosie, we’re sorry, but there are just too many of you to look after.’ I thought my mum would howl, as it seemed all the puppies were going to be sold off, including me. Her sadness was caught by Sarah.
‘But, Rosie, we will need to keep one for you to look after.’ I could tell that it would be me because Mum looked at me fondly.
Oh, it must be because I’m the best! I thought a little smugly.
Things were to get worse. In the following days, other people appeared, scooping up and driving off with my last brother and sisters. I looked at my mother with my sad basset-hound eyes. Her look of equal sorrow told me she could do nothing because of what Sarah and Bob had hinted at before.
The very next morning, there was knock at the door, and when Sarah answered, a lady and a young girl stood there. The lady was called Sandra, and she had been friends with Sarah for a long time. The little girl, Sammy, was about fourteen years old. She picked me up, kissing me and stroking my long ears.
‘You are beautiful!’ she said to me, and then aside excitedly, ‘This is the one for me, Sandra!’
Before I knew it, I was whisked away, and Sammy and I were bundled into the back of an old car with me perched on her lap. So much for Rosie having one to look after. It seems my life had changed completely in one day!
After a very long drive, I started feeling ill, maybe because of the smell of the car fumes, or more likely because I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. I was so nervous, I ended up being sick, and in my misery I looked forlornly at Sammy. She was all kindness and comforted me for the rest of the journey.
‘Never mind, Ellie, I will take care of you.’
I realised I had just been named.

CHAPTER
A New Home
T he journey eventually ended. The last half mile was up a long drive to another farm, and while for a minute I hoped we had been driven home, this farm had a different smell. At the arrival of the car to the farmhouse, a couple appeared. When Sandra said goodbye to each of us in turn, I learned that this couple were Sammy’s mum and dad, John and Claire. As she said farewell to me, she caressed my ears and patted me firmly but affectionately on my rump. Then Claire swept me up in her arms and said, ‘Oh, you poor thing. You must be so tired.’
‘Yes, Mummy, and Ellie was sick,’ Sammy added in a straightforward but sympathetic way.
‘Ah, you may be hungry as well, then.’ Claire fondled one ear as Sandra had.
I didn’t really feel like eating but half-heartedly worked my way through the food in the bowl. The one thing about us basset hounds is that we never turn down a meal. As the evening gave way to night, I got so lonely—I missed my brothers and sisters, but most of all my mum. My basset eyes must have been at their saddest. I started to howl. After several minutes, there was a sound of feet. A door creaked open, and Claire appeared. I gave a pathetic
whimper, fearing rebuke, but she just breathed an ah of sympathy and swept me up in her arms. She took me to a cosy warm bed where she cuddled me until I slept.
I woke next morning in a panic. I felt I was bursting, and without warning I fell from the bed just in time and tiddled over the carpet, leaving a bit of a puddle. I gazed mournfully up at Claire looming over me.
‘Never mind, little one. I should have let you out.’
Sammy was given the responsibility of teaching me the correct place to do my business. She was straight away up for the task, saying, ‘You have to go outside.’
‘Outside’ was the magic word used when I was told to do the necessary. It didn’t take me long to learn how to paw at the kitchen door and let out a woof whenever the pressure told me it was time to go outside .
On our first excursion, we encountered three large steps. With my large floppy ears and short little legs, I stumbled on the first and rolled down the rest. A worried Sammy picked me up and ferried me to the middle of the grass, where I successfully relieved myself. Claire had been watching from the kitchen window and now joined Sammy, both clapping with delight in appreciation. Claire beckoned Sammy in, for it was time to go to school.

‘I know you want to stay and play with your new puppy, but school is very important,’ Claire said.
I followed her, ears flopping and tail wagging. It took me some time to scale the three large steps, and I skidded to a halt on the flagstone floor.
‘You can’t go to school! Well, not where Sammy goes, anyway. You have to stay here and keep me company!’ Claire said with a laugh. ‘You’ll have to wait here in the kitchen while I tend to the stable.’
Claire told me she looked after horses and ponies, occasionally buying and selling them as a business. Todays a couple was arriving to look one over. When they arrived in due course, Claire was so busy preparing the pony and generally busying around, and then taking the couple on a tour to see that particular pony, that she didn’t have time to give attention to a needy basset.
So I got bored, and with a quick wag of the tail and a snuffle, I decided to explore my new home. After the lower part of the house was charted in my basset head, I scrabbled through the kitchen, pushed open the door with a determined paw, and stumbled down the steps again—these steps would take some getting used to!
I waddled off through an open gate into large field, thinking I’d never felt so free. I meandered on until I was brought to a halt by a strange noise—huffing and puffing, with an occasional gasp. What sort of monster could it be? I wasn’t afraid of snorting monsters because I had never met a nasty one, although the noise did give me a slight cause for concern. There was a crowd of people surrounding the monster, which launched dark smoke upwards as if it were trying to add to the clouds.
A man put a silver object to his mouth, puffed out his cheeks, and emitted a shrill whistle. It was such a loud shriek that it hurt my ears. It would have been worse but for my floppy protectors! He was shepherding the people
onto the carriages that were chained to the monster, and when he spotted me at the foot of the steps, he looked up quizzically.
‘And where have you come from, little ’un? You’d better get on the train, as I don’t want you bumbling onto the track and under the wheels.’ He waved me up the steps, which I managed successfully at the first attempt—my climbing was better than my descending.
Once aboard, I looked down a corridor, and all the faces of the people were turned in my direction. I felt so popular, and I loved it! Especially when the children made a fuss of me. I stayed on the train until it made the return journey, and the conductor shooed me off at the right place.
I scampered across the field, up the stairs, and back into the kitchen. A worried Claire had been occupied with selling a pony but eventually had missed me. She was getting frantic about how to tell Sammy that I had gone absent without leave—AWOL. But she was not even angry at me. I wheedled my way around her affections by jumping about, ears flopping, and wagging my tail, with an occasional woof thrown in for good measure.
‘Where have you been?’ Claire enquired. This became the most common question asked of me. Sometimes the emphasis was on the you and sometimes on the been . Ha