Free My Dog Doesn't Like Me by Elizabeth Fensham Page A

much praise. It seems to work. Maggie calls it the ‘slot machine’ method. Ugly only sometimes hits the ‘jackpot’ (that means getting a treat), but he’s always hoping for the best,
so he keeps on doing what I ask – or most of the time. That’s what makes me sort of on edge. What if Ugly mucks up when it comes time for Maggie to decide if he’s been trained enough for me to keep him?

Chapter Twenty-five
    I’ve been flat chat with sticking to Ugly’s feeding, walking, and training schedule. Hugh visited after school this week, and he says I’m heaps more patient. He’s right. When I manage to forget that Ugly really has to pass his training, I enjoy teaching Ugly stuff.
    After two long months, tomorrow is the big test. I’ve never in my whole life worked as hard as I have over the last few days. Last night I was so tired I fell asleep during dinner. I just put my head down on the table for a moment and, next thing I remember, Dad was carrying me to bed like a little kid.
    Every time I look at Ugly and he gives one of his long, loving, brown-eyed looks, I just push myself onwards. I’ve even added a training trick that Maggie hasn’t told me about. I read about it on the internet. I want to surprise Maggie – show her how intelligent and obedient Ugly is.
    Tonight has been the opposite from last night. At 7pm, Milly rang me. ‘Hugh and I want you to know that we think you’re an amazing dog trainer. Everyone in both our families wishes you the best of luck.’
    â€˜Thanks, Milly,’ I said. ‘I know I’ve tried my very hardest, but one thing that worries me is if Ugly behaves badly.’
    â€˜Just concentrate on being a team with Ugly,’ suggested Milly. ‘Try thinking like a dog.’
    After Milly’s phone call, I thought I’d go to bed early to get a good night’s rest, but I haven’t been able to sleep.
    I know I should be thinking positive thoughts, but I keep imagining it all going wrong and having to say goodbye to Ugly.
    About half an hour ago, I went into my parents’ room to see if they were awake. Dad was sitting up in bed doing work on his computer. Mum was lying on her side, reading a book. They both looked up.
    â€˜Please just say I can keep Ugly,’ I said before they could ask why I was standing there. ‘I beg you.’ I thought about falling on my knees, but I know Dad isn’t into that sort of thing.
    â€˜No need to be dramatic, Eccle,’ said Dad.
    â€˜Ugly is part of our family,’ I said.
    Mum sat up and put her arms out to me. I walked over, and she hugged me.
    â€˜You love Ugly, Mum. How can you let this happen?’
    Mum looked sadly at Dad. I wondered if she was going to give in. But he shook his head at her. She took a deep breath and said, ‘I love Ugly and I want the best for him – and for you, Ec.’
    â€˜But the best is just leaving everything like it is!’ I said. I couldn’t believe my parents could be so cruel.
    â€˜It’s called tough love, Eccle,’ said Dad.
    â€˜We want you to grow up into the sort of man who knows how to work towards a goal, who knows that some of the best things don’t come easily,’ said Mum.
    â€˜Someone who knows about responsibilities and that there are consequences for what we do or don’t do,’ Dad added.
    â€˜But it’s not fair to use poor Ugly to teach me to be a man,’ I said.
    â€˜Ugly also deserves to have an owner who can control him. He’ll be a happier dog,’ said Dad.
    I so much wanted to throw something. Boy, was I mad. But I knew that the ‘sort of man’ Mum and Dad want me to be wouldn’t chuck things. Instead, I yelled, ‘But don’t you understand? Ugly is happier than ever. We … we like each other now.’
    â€˜Well, tomorrow you can prove it,’ said Dad, and then he put out the