by MARIAH PARISGibson, the puppy, came to stay with the family.
Thomas tickled his silky, floppy ears. Gemma kissed his wet, smooth nose. Chloe snuggled into his soft, warm fur.
‘Remember,’ said Dad. ‘He’s not ours to keep.’
‘One day he’ll look after someone special,’ said Mum. ‘Someone who can’t see.’
Gibson had lots of rules to follow.
‘No running or jumping,’ said Dad. ‘No chasing birds or balls.’
‘He has to be good,’ said Mum. ‘So he’ll be ready to help someone see.’
That night, the children met in Thomas’s bedroom.
‘We want Gibson to be naughty,’ Thomas said.
‘So he won’t be ready to help a blind person,’ said Gemma.
‘Then he’ll stay with us,’ said Chloe.
‘Woof,’ barked Gibson and licked her hand.
At football training, Thomas threw the ball to Gibson. Dad chased him for half an hour to get it back.
‘He’ll never help a blind person if he does that,’ muttered the coach.
In the supermarket, Gemma fed him some sausages. Mum had to hide the chops before Gibson ate those as well.
‘He’ll never be allowed in here if he keeps doing that,’ hissed the butcher.
At the library, Chloe let him chew some of the books.
‘He’ll never be allowed in here if he does that,’ grumbled the librarian.
One day, Dad and Mum took the children to meet Mrs Voir and her dog, Bella.
‘Before I had Bella,’ she said, ‘I couldn’t go for a walk in the park. I couldn’t do the supermarket shopping on my own. I couldn’t take my granddaughter to story-time at the library because I tripped over the books. But I can do all of those things now. I have Bella.’
That night, the children met in Thomas’s bedroom.
‘Gibson has to be good,’ Thomas said.
‘So he’ll be ready for the person who needs him,’ said Gemma.
‘We love him but he can’t stay with us,’ said Chloe.
‘Woof,’ barked Gibson and licked her hand.
At football training, Gibson tried to grab the ball. Thomas made him sit on the sidelines instead and watch.
‘He can come down here anytime if he behaves like that,’ boomed the coach.
At the supermarket, Gibson tried to eat a hamburger. Gemma fed him doggy treats instead so he walked straight past the chops.
‘He can come in here anytime if he behaves like that,’ murmured the butcher.
At the library, Gibson tried to eat a book. Chloe made him sit next to her at story-time.
‘He’ll always be welcome in here if he’s good like that,’ whispered the librarian.
The day came when Gibson was ready to leave. Thomas cried on his silky, floppy ears. Gemma wept on his wet, smooth nose. Chloe sobbed into his soft, warm fur. Mum dabbed her eyes. Dad blew his nose.
‘He isn’t ours to keep,’ said Thomas.
‘He’s going to someone who needs him,’ said Gemma.
‘To help someone see,’ said Chloe.
‘Woof,’ barked Gibson and licked their hands.
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