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A Double Dose of Driving Dogs


Horace couldn’t stop sneezing.
Joshua rubbed him down with an old towel. Feeling guilty, Horace offered him a
lick and a handshake.
“Get your muddy paws off,” said Josh huffily. “You got me in trouble again.”
All the same, he took pity on Horace. He persuaded his mum that because of his
soaking, Horace needed to stay warm and should sleep inside the house that night.
So Mrs Hay put Horace’s beanbag in the hall with strict instructions to Stay There
And Be Good!
“Of course,” sneezed Horace.
He couldn’t sleep, however. He longed to go and sit in the car. It was his favourite
place: he always felt better in the driver’s seat. But when he padded down the hall in
the middle of the night, he found the kitchen door was locked. He couldn’t get into the
garage that way.
So Horace padded out again, unhappily. Upstairs, the family was snoring; but
faint thumps came from the living room, where Tickety and Boo had their cage.
Horace slunk in to see the hamsters. He thought they might let him watch Roaring
Roadhogs.
For once, though, the TV wasn’t on. Horace tripped over a tangle of elastic on the
floor.
“Ow! Ow!” he yapped as he sprawled across the carpet.
“Ow! Ow!” he cried again, as he landed on Joshua’s construction bricks. They
were scattered everywhere. Some had been made into toy trucks, and others into
towers and bridges.
“Watch out!” said Tickety. “You’re trampling all over our Titanic Trucks assault
course.” She was busy winding something long and pink round Boo’s left hind leg,
until it looked like a sausage.
“What are you doing?” asked Horace, sitting up gingerly amidst the bricks.
“Putting a plaster on Boo’s knee,” she said. “He sprained it.”
“Poor Boo!” said Horace. “Was it the assault course?”
 
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