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About the Author:
Daniel Pennac, novelist and thriller writer, is one of France's most celebrated authors. Widely regarded as a literary phenomenon, his books for both adults and children have been translated into over thirty languages and are read all over the world. Sarah Ardizzone, a translator and journalist, was born in Brussels in 1970. She won the 2005 Marsh Award for Literature in Translation for Eye of the Wolf by Daniel Pennac, and is currently promoting translation as a creative process in schools.
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"What's a pedigree?" asked Dog.
"It's an idea invented by humans," replied Sniffy scornfully, "and it's completely fake." . . .
"Are you a pedigree?" Dog asked Woolly.
Woolly managed a feeble smile. "I have every kind of pedigree in me. I'm related to any dog you care to mention. Even Sniffy here, who doesn't look a bit like me. Even you. . . ."
"Don't you have an owner?"
The smile vanished from Woolly's face. A long silence followed. A very long silence indeed. Finally Woolly said, "I used to have a mistress. . . ."
Silence.
"And?"
Silence.
"I lost her."
The sun was high in the sky. It was stiflingly hot under the great metal roof of the dog pound. There were a lot of tongues hanging out.
"What d'you mean, lost her?"
"Just that. I went out for a walk one evening and when I came back the next morning, she was gone. The apartment was empty. She'd moved out." . . .
"But didn't you follow her smell?" asked Dog, amazed.
"What good would it have done? If she didn't want me anymore, what was the point?" . . .
After a while Woolly said in a thoughtful voice, "Anyway, it's my fault. I didn't train her properly—"
Their conversation was interrupted by something Dog would never forget. Something that's made him call out every night ever since. The main gate swung open onto the setting sun. A black van reversed through the gate into the dog pound. Ten men wearing leather gloves jumped out. They opened a whole row of cages, grabbed hold of the dogs, and hurled them into the van. The director of the dog pound watched the whole operation with a blank smile on his face. The dogs were kicking with all four legs and barking and biting. But it was over in a flash, and nothing they did made any difference. The van took off again. The gates closed behind it.
There was a deathly silence. A gust of Total Terror had just blown through. All the dogs were looking at the row of empty cages.
"It's an idea invented by humans," replied Sniffy scornfully, "and it's completely fake." . . .
"Are you a pedigree?" Dog asked Woolly.
Woolly managed a feeble smile. "I have every kind of pedigree in me. I'm related to any dog you care to mention. Even Sniffy here, who doesn't look a bit like me. Even you. . . ."
"Don't you have an owner?"
The smile vanished from Woolly's face. A long silence followed. A very long silence indeed. Finally Woolly said, "I used to have a mistress. . . ."
Silence.
"And?"
Silence.
"I lost her."
The sun was high in the sky. It was stiflingly hot under the great metal roof of the dog pound. There were a lot of tongues hanging out.
"What d'you mean, lost her?"
"Just that. I went out for a walk one evening and when I came back the next morning, she was gone. The apartment was empty. She'd moved out." . . .
"But didn't you follow her smell?" asked Dog, amazed.
"What good would it have done? If she didn't want me anymore, what was the point?" . . .
After a while Woolly said in a thoughtful voice, "Anyway, it's my fault. I didn't train her properly—"
Their conversation was interrupted by something Dog would never forget. Something that's made him call out every night ever since. The main gate swung open onto the setting sun. A black van reversed through the gate into the dog pound. Ten men wearing leather gloves jumped out. They opened a whole row of cages, grabbed hold of the dogs, and hurled them into the van. The director of the dog pound watched the whole operation with a blank smile on his face. The dogs were kicking with all four legs and barking and biting. But it was over in a flash, and nothing they did made any difference. The van took off again. The gates closed behind it.
There was a deathly silence. A gust of Total Terror had just blown through. All the dogs were looking at the row of empty cages.
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
- PublisherWalker Books Ltd
- Publication date2009
- ISBN 10 1406322741
- ISBN 13 9781406322743
- BindingPaperback
- Number of pages196
- Rating
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Dog
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ISBN 10: 1406322741
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Book Description Paperback. Condition: Very Good. This book is in very good condition and will be shipped within 24 hours of ordering. The cover may have some limited signs of wear but the pages are clean, intact and the spine remains undamaged. This book has clearly been well maintained and looked after thus far. Money back guarantee if you are not satisfied. See all our books here, order more than 1 book and get discounted shipping. Seller Inventory # 6545-9781406322743
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Dog
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Walker Books, Limited
(2009)
ISBN 10: 1406322741
ISBN 13: 9781406322743
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Book Description Condition: Good. Ships from the UK. Former library book; may include library markings. Used book that is in clean, average condition without any missing pages. Seller Inventory # GRP65610912
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