Barking Mad

(published by Walker Books Australia, Sept 2013)

Chapter 8: My Dog Did My Homework

When I got home, I didn’t say hello to anyone.
I stormed up to my room and slammed the door. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Mum or Dad came upstairs to tell me off, so I had less than two minutes to confront Pepper.
He was lying on my bed, looking way too comfortable. I stormed over, pulled off the doona and sent him tumbling to the floor.
He shook himself and shot me a dirty look.
“Game over, Pepper,” I said. “I’ve had enough. You can’t mess with my life like this!”
Pepper flattened his ears and gave me puppy dog sad eyes.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about!” I hissed. “I’m onto you!”
He glanced at my computer, then – I swear – turned slowly back to me with narrowed eyes and an evil grin.
“Exactly,” I said. “I worked so hard on that assignment, but you thought you’d replace it with your own. For what? To get back at me for beating you at Scrabble? You can’t do things like that! All my hard work was for nothing!”
Pepper had never looked so smug in all the time I’d known him. It made me want to pick him up and fling him out the window. But I had a better idea. It was time to use Pepper’s weakness against him.
“You think you’re so brilliant, don’t you?” I said, my own lips curling into a smile. “I bet you thought your assignment would prove how smart you are, once and for all. Well, guess what? Your plan backfired.”
His little white ears twitched to attention.
“All your hard work was for nothing too, Pepper. The assignment got an F.”
Pepper’s doggy brows furrowed, like he was really confused.
“That’s right, Pepper,” I said. “An F. As in ‘Fail’. It was the lowest mark in the class. Everyone beat you.”
A low growl started in Pepper’s throat as I heard Mum’s high heels clacking on the stairs.
“Alex!” she called. “What are you thinking, slamming doors like that?”
I had ten seconds, tops.
“Don’t get angry with me,” I whispered fiercely. “I’m not the one who failed you and I’m not to blame. You brought this on yourself.”
I went to the door and opened it just as Mum reached the top of the stairs.
“Sorry, Mum,” I said. “There was a gust of wind.”
“Really?” she said, frowning. She stuck her head into my room and took in my doona on the floor and a very grumpy-looking Pepper. “Are you sure it wasn’t a flash of temper you’re taking out on my house? And poor Pepper?”
Pepper took his cue and ran behind Mum’s legs, like he was scared and needed protecting.
“Look at him, Alex! He’s shaking!” Mum was totally exasperated. “I don’t know what’s got into you, but you need to take a long, hard look at yourself.” She picked up Pepper and gave him a cuddle. “You can stay up here and think about your behaviour. When dinner’s ready, we’ll see if you’re fit to be around your family.”
“Fine by me,” I said.
I closed the door and went straight to my computer.It was already on, with the internet open to a blog called The Virtues of Cats. The latest comment was left by “Pepper4PrimeMinister” and read:

Ha! I would like to see a feline with half the intellectual capacity of its canine counterpart!

I scowled as I exited the blog and opened my email instead. As promised, there in my inbox was the email from Mr Hartmann with my marked assignment attached. But that wasn’t what I was looking for. Instead, I opened the “Sent Items” folder.And there it was – the email Pepper sent only hours after I submitted my assignment. My teeth clenched and ground as I double-clicked on the email.

Dear Mr Hartmann,
I’m sorry, but I sent the wrong document in my last email by mistake. Please delete it and find the correct document attached.
Alex.

The email burned into my brain as I stared at it, too angry to move. I focused on taking deep breaths to control my emotions, like Coach told us to do if an umpire made a bad decision.
When I felt calm enough, I pushed Pepper to the back of my mind and hit the “Reply” button on Mr Hartmann’s email to me.

Dear Mr Hartmann,
Sorry, I’ve been having trouble using my email. The first email I sent actually had the right assignment attached. The second assignment I sent you was a project I did for fun. I found the ancient times really interesting. I know you probably can’t change my grade, but I wanted to show you I actually did do the assignment properly. If you read what I’ve written, I hope you’ll consider keeping me in the accelerated program.
Thanks.
Alex.

I hated having to lie – even to cover another lie – but Pepper had left me with no choice. I read the email again, making sure the right assignment was attached, then hit “Send”.

---

There was a sausage sizzle at footy the next morning, so the whole team hung around after the game. Once we’d got our lunch, I pulled Mitch to one side.
“But I haven’t got sauce yet!” Mitch complained.
“It’s that horrible stuff they always water down,” I said. “You should be thanking me. Besides, I really need to talk to you.”
Mitch shrugged and mumbled, “At least I got onions.” He took a massive bite and said something that sounded like “Floff-flah” but was probably “What’s up?”
I told him about failing the assignment because of Pepper and what I’d done to cover my tracks. As I spoke, Mitch’s mouth fell so far open that a half-chewed, slobbery piece of sausage rolled out and he didn’t even notice.
“I thought I’d worked out how to handle him,” I finished. “But he’s totally out of control!” I looked down at my own sausage. I couldn’t bring myself to eat it. “To make matters worse, he’s avoiding me again. I haven’t seen him since he left my room last night. Who knows what he’s planning now – and it’s only a week until the Pet Parade! What am I gonna do?”
Mitch looked thoughtful as he swallowed what was left in his mouth. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” he said finally. “You need Pepper for the parade, right?”
“Right,” I said. “I can’t let Izzy break my winning streak.”
“So,” Mitch said with a shrug, “maybe you just have to play it cool, find a way to get on Pepper’s good side.”
“Oh yeah? How?”
“Something will work out,” said Mitch. He rubbed his belly. “I’ve got a feeling in my–”
“Don’t say it …” I warned.
“PANCREAS!”