← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Don, the Runaway Dog - Part 6 🐕
00:16:31
A bedtime story series for kids
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Hello, friends, and welcome to Sleep Tight Stories. Don went to sleep next to Jack, but when he woke up, Jack was gone. It took a minute before he realized where he was, and then he remembered he needed to go and search for his breakfast. Don felt something odd at the end of his tail and wondered if Jack was trying to wake him up. But it was not Jack. Don the Runaway Dog Part 6 When Don Woke the next morning, it took him a moment to remember where he was. Oh, he thought with a sigh, I'm under the lumber pile, not home at all. And I'll have to go hunting in trash cans for my breakfast. How I wish I were back on the farm. Then he noticed something. Something odd. There was a strange feeling at the end of his tail, a sort of pinch, as though someone were tugging at it. Is that you, Jack? Waking me up, he said. But Jack was nowhere to be seen, and when Don looked around at his tail, he saw a piece of rope tied to it that had not been there when he went to sleep. He jumped up quick, and as he did, something went rattly bang behind him. Hey, Jimmy, the dog's awake. Cried a boy's voice. Now we'll have some fun. Don sprang out from under the boards and the rattling, banging thing came right along with him. He twisted around to look, and there it was, a big tin can tied to his tail with the rope. Every time he moved, it clattered and bounced along the ground behind him. Oh, this is dreadful. Yelped Don, and he ran. But no matter how fast he went, the can went too, banging at his heels. Look at him go. The two boys shouted, laughing. Catch him. Catch him. But Don ran too fast for them because he was frightened, and he had never run so fast in all his life. He had never had a can tied to his tail before, and the noise of it and the pinch of the rope made him want only to get away. After a bit, Don sat down and twisted around to gnaw at the rope with his teeth. Teeth. But the boys had tied it on too tight and he could not work it loose. Come on now we've got him. Cried one boy creeping up close. Don looked up, saw them coming, and with a yelp he was off again. Head him off. You go that way. I'll go this. Shouted the other boy. Oh, what a lot of trouble I'm in. Thought poor Don. How I wish I were home. And I wish Jack were here to help me. Where has he got to? But Jack was far off, and Don had to manage on his own. Then, as he ran. He spotted a little hole down in the pile of lumber. If I can just crawl in there, he thought, they'll never reach me. He dove for the hole. It was just big enough. He had hoped the can might catch on the boards and pull free, but no such luck. It came right in after him. Never mind, thought Don, panting in the dark. If I pulled too hard to get it off, I might pull my own tail off along with it. Better to wait. Maybe when Jack comes back, he can help me gnaw it loose. So Don crept farther back in under the lumber, where the boys couldn't get at him. They tried. They poked sticks into the hole, but the sticks couldn't reach him. And after a while they gave up trying. At last, one of the men who owned the lumber yard came out of his office and saw the boys making a nuisance of themselves. Here, you two, off you go and play somewhere else, he called, and the boys ran away and left Don in peace. The man never knew there was a dog hiding under his lumber, but Don felt very warmly toward him for chasing them off. Now if only he'd help me get this can off my tail, thought Don't. Where can Jack be? Don stayed hidden a good while. He was calmer now, though his tail still hurt where the rope pinched, and he was hungry and thirsty, having eaten nothing since the night before. He was just thinking it might be safe to come out when he heard a bark. He knew. To you or me it would have sounded like a plain boo woof. But to Don it said clear as anything, where are you? What's happened? Where are you hiding? Here I am, dawn barked back. Oh, Jack, where have you been? Such a lot has happened. There's a can tied to my tail. Poor fellow, said Jack as Don crawled out. You had a bad morning, didn't you? Never mind. I'll soon have that off. And he set to work with his sharp teeth, gnawing at the rope until it fell away, can and all. There, said Jack. Now I've a bone for you. Back where we slept. It's not much of a one, but it was the best I could find this morning. It's a fine bone, said Don, and he meant it, gnawing away hungrily. At home. He wouldn't have glanced twice at such a bone with so little meat on it. But a runaway dog is glad of whatever he can get. Where did you go? Don asked when the bone was finished. You were fast asleep, so I went to hunt up some breakfast, said Jack. I never dreamed those boys would Come along and find you. We'll have to find a new place to sleep now, since they know this one. Come, let's go down to the river for a drink. It isn't far, but when Jack poked his head out, he pulled it back quick. What is it? Asked Don. There's a man out there. I don't want him seeing us or he'll chase us off. Dan looked. Why, that's the good man. He drove those boys away from me. Then he didn't know you were there, said Jack, because he doesn't care for dogs and he won't have them in his yard. We'd better wait till he's gone. So though Don would have liked to trot straight up to the man and be patted on the head, he decided Jack knew best about the ways of the city. Everything is so different here from the country, said don't with a long dog sigh. That it is, agreed Jack. Soon the man went away, and the two dogs slipped down to the edge of the river and drank the cool, clean water. Oh, that's good, said Don. That's the best drink I've had since I ran away. That's why I keep my bed near the river, said Jack. We can't always find enough to eat in the city, but water at least is easy. Now, come on, let's go and hunt up our lunch. But we've only just had breakfast, said Don. I know, said Jack, washing his face with one paw, but it can take a long while to find a meal, and by the time we do, it'll likely be lunchtime. Once again, Don thought how different this all was from the farm. There, after breakfast he could romp around or chase a stray pig back to its pen or trot out after the cows and never once worry where his lunch was coming from because he knew Bob or Sally or somebody would bring it here. Every meal had to be hunted for from morning till night. It was a hard sort of life. Sometimes, nosing through the cold streets, Don would think of the little red schoolhouse and how he used to lie in the shade and wait for the children to come pouring out the door. He even found himself missing the big red rooster and his silly cock, a doodle doo and squeeze squinty squealing to be let out of his pen. Back on the farm, he had grumbled that nothing ever happened. Now he would have given anything for a whole long day in which nothing happened at all. But that day, at least, Don and Jack were in luck. Running about the streets together, they came upon a good big Piece of meat that some cook had thrown out a back door. This'll do us proud, said Jack. Enough for lunch and supper both. We'll carry it back and hide it. Keep a sharp eye out for other dogs, mind. And if any come after it, you drive them off. I will, said Don, and he had to, more than once. But Don was a big dog now, braver and bolder than he'd ever been. At home when two or three strange dogs came sniffing up, he growled and showed his sharp teeth and they thought better of it and slunk away. Once a dog nearly as big as the black bull came swaggering over. Sure, he could take the meat, but Don stood his ground and. And gave such a deep rumbling growl that the big fellow backed off, tail down, and went to bother somebody else. Well done, said Jack when it was over. You'd never think you were a farm dog the way you handled that one. Don felt proud all the way back to the lumber pile. They ate their lunch in a snow snug new spot under the lumber, and there was plenty left over for supper besides. You know, said Don that night, full and comfortable. Running away isn't so bad after all. I'm beginning to like it. Wait, said Jack. This is only the start. We won't always have a lucky day like today. And Jack was right. The very next day they found nothing at all to eat until late in the afternoon, and then only a small bone to share between them. It rained, too, and the water trickled down through the boards and got them both wet through. On the wet nights, which were the hardest, the two dogs would huddle close together to keep warm, and Jack would tell about the farm he had lived on once, long ago and the boy who used to feed him there before he came to the city. It made them both feel a little less far from home. Try as he might, Don could not find his way home. He had come so far in that freight car that he had no notion which way the farm lay. And Jack, who had never been there, could not help him. So the days went on and turned into weeks, and Jack and Don lived side by side under the lumber pile, taking their meals where they could find them. Sometimes other dogs would try to take their bones, but the two friends were strong, and mostly they kept what was theirs. It was not the life Don would have chosen. He thought of Bob every day and of his warm kennel and the milk and Sally's hand resting on his head. But he was not alone. He had Jack by now. He had learned enough of the city's ways to go off hunting on his own and find his way back to the lumber pile after. And in that much at least, he was getting along. And each night, curled up close beside his shaggy friend, Don told himself, somehow, someday, he would find his way back to the farm and to Bob. And that is the end of this part. Good night. Sleep tight.