Sarah Lean - A Dog Called Homeless

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2012

Published in this ebook edition in 2018

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd,

HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Text copyright © Sarah Lean 2012

Illustrations copyright © Gary Blythe 2012

Cover design copyright © HarperCollins Children’s Books 2018

Cover design by Katie Everson

Cover illustrations copyright © Jessica Courtney-Tickle

Sarah Lean and Gary Blythe assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007455034

Ebook Edition © 2018 ISBN: 9780007455027

Version: 2018-05-08

For Dad

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2012 Published in this ebook edition in 2018 HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is www.harpercollins.co.uk Text copyright © Sarah Lean 2012 Illustrations copyright © Gary Blythe 2012 Cover design copyright © HarperCollins Children’s Books 2018 Cover design by Katie Everson Cover illustrations copyright © Jessica Courtney-Tickle Sarah Lean and Gary Blythe assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780007455034 Ebook Edition © 2018 ISBN: 9780007455027 Version: 2018-05-08

Dedication For Dad

Chapter 1 1. DAD’S BIRTHDAY, AND I GOT UP BEFORE ANYONE. He just wanted a quiet day. No presents, no cake, no nothing. It just wouldn’t be right, he said. People forget birthdays aren’t just about them. Dad’s birthday is also the same day my mum died last year. I think it’s called a tragedy or a catastrophe or some other big word which means more than just “bad luck” when two things like that happen on the same day. I sat outside Dad’s bedroom door with his birthday cards, waiting. Through the gap in the doorway I could just make out the dark hump under the covers and his dark head making a deep dent in his pillow. He sighed, so I knew he was awake. There were six birthday cards for Dad. One from me, one from my older brother Luke (still in bed or on his computer – the door was shut) and four that had come in the post. I nudged Dad’s bedroom door open a bit wider and flung my card in. I saw Dad patting round the bed, feeling for the blue envelope that landed by his back, and heard it crunch as he opened it. It was a picture of a grey bear with a blue nose. It was speaking on the telephone and on the front it said A Message From Me To You . Dad said, “Thanks, that’s nice.” And I said, “Are you thinking about Mum?” Silence. And then he said, “Get me a cup of coffee, will you?” It didn’t feel like a birthday at all, not even with the cards on top of the telly. Dad had the volume turned low while we sat around waiting for the rest of our family to arrive and come with us to visit Mum’s grave for her anniversary.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Books by Sarah Lean

About the Publisher

MY NAME IS CALLY LOUISE FISHER AND I haven’t spoken for thirty-one days. Talking doesn’t always make things happen, however much you want it to. Think of rain; it just happens when it happens. When the clouds are ready, when they’re full, they drop the water. It’s not magic; it’s just putting something back where it belongs.

And this is how it all began.

DAD’S BIRTHDAY, AND I GOT UP BEFORE ANYONE.

He just wanted a quiet day. No presents, no cake, no nothing. It just wouldn’t be right, he said. People forget birthdays aren’t just about them.

Dad’s birthday is also the same day my mum died last year. I think it’s called a tragedy or a catastrophe or some other big word which means more than just “bad luck” when two things like that happen on the same day.

I sat outside Dad’s bedroom door with his birthday cards, waiting. Through the gap in the doorway I could just make out the dark hump under the covers and his dark head making a deep dent in his pillow. He sighed, so I knew he was awake.

There were six birthday cards for Dad. One from me, one from my older brother Luke (still in bed or on his computer – the door was shut) and four that had come in the post. I nudged Dad’s bedroom door open a bit wider and flung my card in. I saw Dad patting round the bed, feeling for the blue envelope that landed by his back, and heard it crunch as he opened it. It was a picture of a grey bear with a blue nose. It was speaking on the telephone and on the front it said A Message From Me To You .

Dad said, “Thanks, that’s nice.”

And I said, “Are you thinking about Mum?”

Silence.

And then he said, “Get me a cup of coffee, will you?”

It didn’t feel like a birthday at all, not even with the cards on top of the telly. Dad had the volume turned low while we sat around waiting for the rest of our family to arrive and come with us to visit Mum’s grave for her anniversary.