I found Maxie on the way home from school. He scuttled up to me with a pleading look in his eyes…

 

His fur was clumped and matted together, his nose dry and crusty, and when I looked closer I saw small black fleas bouncing over him. He scratched himself frantically with a leg and hopped from paw to paw in agitation. I bent down to let him sniff my hand. He instantly sat back, pinning his ears down and yawning widely.

 

“Oh, sorry buddy,” I said and backed away, knowing this was his way of showing me he was stressed. I got back to my feet and started to walk away from him, glancing back to see what he’d do. He cocked his head to the side, then let out a huff before following me. Each time I stopped he’d stop about a metre behind me, and only start following when I moved away.

 

I made it to the end of the road where my house sat on the corner. I turned around and sure enough, there he was, a metre away, head cocked and tail thumping on the ground.

 

“Want to come in?” I asked him. He panted back at me. I walked a few steps toward him, but he flattened his ears and backed away a bit.

 

“That’s alright,” I said to him, “my mum would have a fit with those fleas in your fur. Stay there!”

 

I walked up to my door and then turned around. The scruffy dog still sat, tail thumping, as if he understood what I had said. I smiled. “Good boy. I’ll be back!”