Free Lost! The Hundred-Mile-An-Hour Dog by Jeremy Strong Page B

have got terrible hearing. Not like me. I can hear ants snoring when it’s ant bedtime. But two-legs always have such silly, small ears — have you noticed? It’s no wonder they can’t hear properly. Mine are big and flappy like proper ears should be. And my pups have got ears like flags!
    I tried to sit down, but the van was on wriggly roads. I got thrown all over the place and soon I felt a bit sick. I’m sure it wasn’t the pies, it was the van, and before long I really was sick. I was a bit miffed at first because I thought my plan wouldn’t work now, because half the rolls and pies were back on the van floor, even if they were a bit mushy. But then I remembered how picky two-legs are when it comes to food. They probably wouldn’t want them now. Not whenthey were all gloopy and steaming.
    We travelled for ages. It felt like about a year at least and it had gone dark too. The van slowed down and squeaked to a stop. I went and hid behind a crate so I could leap out at the robber and go RAARGH! RAARGH!
    The back door opened. I peeped out. The two-legs was bald and he’d taken off his dark glasses. I thought: That’s odd. He doesn’t look so robber-ish now. As he opened the door he staggered back, holding his nose and staring at the brown piles on the van floor. I thought: Aha, this is my moment of glory! I shall get a medal and meet the Queen!
    So in my head I ate a super-special-power donut and became the wonderfully brave and fearless Dazzy Donut Dog. I hurled myself out from behind the crate and I started to go RAARGH! RAARGH! but my tummy was still feeling upset from the ride and I threw up instead, all down his trousers. He screamed like a lady with a big spider and, well, I know that kindof scream. It means trouble, so I ran for it as fast as I could, which was a lot faster than him with only two naff legs and I disappeared into the night. Ha ha! I am so clever sometimes.

    And then I discovered where I was. Or to put it another way, I discovered where I wasn’t. It was the middle of nowhere. I was hopelessly LOST.

3 The Middle of Nowhere
    What a dark and moonless night! It was a bit creepy, I can tell you. The wind howled and an owl hooted. They are such old ladies, owls. All they ever do is go Whoo-hoooo! like they’re scared of the dark. Why don’t they get up during the day when the sun’s shining? I’m not scared of the dark at all because Dazzy Donut Dog is not scared of ANYTHING.
    It was eerily quiet, apart from that daft owl. I wandered along a wide, empty street with big buildings. They were even bigger than the building I ran into last week by mistake. I’d never seen so many books. I got chased out by three screaming women and one of them tried to hit me with a magazine and I hadn’t even doneanything! Anyhow she missed, because I am the superest dog at zigzagging and can run like a TORNADO!

    The buildings were lit by orange lights and surrounded by tall wire fences. The fences had big signs with pictures on. Sometimes it was a skull, and sometimes it was a two-legs being struck by lightning and it was making him jump-jump-jump, like he was going Ooh! Ow! Stop it! I knew what those signs meant — they meant DANGER! KEEP OUT!

    I sat down so I could have a thinking kind of scratch. I scratched behind my right ear and under my chin. I scratched my chest and the top of my head and behind my left ear. Then I scratched in front of my left ear, and the funny thing was, I still didn’t know where I was.
    I thought: There must be a sensible way to do this. What I need to do is start with what I already know. It will be like putting the pieces of a puzzle together.
    So I started sorting things out, like this:
Question 1:
Where am I?
Answer:          
I don’t know.
Question 2:
Which direction is home?
Answer:          
I don’t know.
Question 3:
Are there any pies left?
Answer:          
I don’t know. The van’s gone now and anyway, what have pies got to do with