Barclay, Linwood - Escape by Barclay Linwood

Author:Barclay, Linwood [Barclay, Linwood]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PRH Canada Young Readers
Published: 2018-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Two hours earlier, Emily had run in the direction of the workshed to get her father a crowbar. But before she got there, she’d spotted a small boy playing with a beautiful Labrador retriever. The boy threw a stick and the dog raced after it.

Emily wondered who they were. She hadn’t seen the boy or the dog at Shady Acres before, and the fishing camp she helped her father run was small enough that you got to know everyone who was there very quickly.

But it was possible these two had wandered into Shady Acres from one of the cabins down the lake, or even from Flo’s Cabins. Plenty of people from up and down the lake wandered through the camp. Maybe, technically, it was trespassing, but it was also good for them to explore their fishing camp. One day, they might end up becoming customers.

“That’s a pretty dog you have there,” Emily said.

“Thanks!” said the boy.

The dog grabbed the stick and came running back to him. The boy wrestled the stick out of its mouth.

“What’s his name?” Emily asked.

“Her name is Barbara,” the boy said.

“Hey there, girl,” Emily said.

The boy threw the stick again. He was only about five or six years old, Emily guessed, so he didn’t have a very strong arm, and he couldn’t throw the stick that far—not much more than thirty feet.

Barbara collected the stick within seconds.

“You wanna throw?” the boy asked.

“Sure,” Emily said. Once the boy had the stick out of Barbara’s mouth he handed it to Emily. She tried to grab it in a spot where it wasn’t covered in dog slobber, but once she had thrown the stick—more than twice as far as the boy could pitch it—her hand was wet and sticky.

As she wiped her hand on her jeans she asked the boy, “What’s your name?”

“Timothy,” he said.

“Well, hello, Timothy. Do you have a cabin around here?”

He pointed north. “Up that way.”

This time, when Barbara returned with the stick, she came to Emily, who dropped to her knees. She grabbed for the stick with one hand, and patted Barbara’s head affectionately with her other. She ran her hand down Barbara’s head towards her collar.

“You sure have a nice coat,” Emily said.

Barbara gave Emily a huge lick on the face. Her thick, moist tongue ran over Emily’s mouth and nose.

“Blecch!” she said, but in a funny way. She didn’t want to offend Timothy or Barbara.

When her hand reached the collar, she noticed something funny about it. It was much thicker than most collars dogs wore.

She felt a small shiver run up her spine.

“Yessir, you are one nice dog,” she said, attempting to remain calm as she ran her hand down Barbara’s neck once again. This time, when she reached the collar, she tried to work her fingers between it and Barbara’s fur.

She could not get her fingers in there. It was as though Barbara’s collar were stitched right to her body.

Emily only knew one other dog with a collar like that.

She

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