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  “That’s just it, he doesn’t!” moaned Bertie. “He gets mixed up. He sits when he’s meant to come and when I say ‘Walkies’, he lies down! The only thing he’s good at is stuffing himself with biscuits!”

  Mum glanced at Whiffer, who had dozed off to sleep. “Well there’s seven more weeks, he’s bound to improve.”

  “Seven?” Bertie groaned. Seven more weeks of Miss Bowser shouting and Whiffer coming bottom of the class. He didn’t know if he could stand it.

  “And you didn’t tell me there’d be a test,” he grumbled. “Whiffer’s got to pass his ODD.”

  “His what?” asked Mum.

  “ODD. Obedient Dog Diploma,” said Bertie. “That’s what she gives you.”

  “Good,” said Mum. “With what it’s costing me I’ll expect him to pass.”

  Bertie looked doubtful. “Well,” he said. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  Mum had an idea. “How about this?” she said. “I’ll offer you a reward. If Whiffer passes I will double your pocket money.”

  Bertie looked up. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Bertie did a quick calculation. Double pocket money that would be … um … double what he usually got, which came to quite a lot. He could buy loads of things with twice the pocket money. There was just one major problem.

  There was more chance of Whiffer passing his driving test than his Dog Diploma.

  CHAPTER 3

  Every week for the next six weeks Bertie dragged Whiffer along to Miss Bowser’s classes. Whiffer showed no signs of progress. He made friends with a boxer called Bonzo. He learned to steal biscuits from Bertie’s pocket. But he didn’t learn to obey. Bertie was in despair. At school he explained the problem to Donna. Donna had a hamster and a goldfish so she knew about pets. She suggested they take Whiffer to the park for extra lessons.

  “It’s no use,” moaned Bertie, after Whiffer had gone charging off for the umpteenth time. “Let’s face it, he’s never going to pass.”

  “Maybe you’re just doing it wrong,” said Donna.

  “How can I be? I’m shouting just like she does.”

  Whiffer came racing up. He’d found a mangy old rubber ball in the grass.

  “Try one more time. Tell him to sit,” said Donna.

  “SIT!” yelled Bertie.

  “WHIFFER, SIT!”

  Whiffer dropped the ball at Bertie’s feet and barked. Bertie flopped down on the grass. Whiffer sat down too. Donna looked thoughtful.

  “Let’s try something else. I’ll go over there and you come when I call you.”

  “Me?” said Bertie. “It’s not me we’re meant to be training!”

  Donna looked at him. “Do you want my help or not?”

  Bertie sighed. Donna could be very bossy when she wanted to be.

  “Ready?” said Donna. “OK. Come!” Bertie walked over to her and Whiffer trotted behind. Donna looked pleased.

  “Now roll over,” she said.

  “Who?”

  “You! Go on, do it!”

  Feeling pretty stupid, Bertie lay down and rolled over. Whiffer barked joyfully and rolled over too. This was a great game.

  “See! I was right,” laughed Donna. “He does whatever you do. All you have to do is get him to copy you!”

  “Wow!” said Bertie. “You’re a genius!”

  “I know,” said Donna, modestly.

  Bertie still looked worried. “But what about the test?” he asked. “It’s not just rolling over, there’ll be tunnels and fences and stuff.”

  “Easy!” shrugged Donna. “You just do it with him. Trust me. It’ll work.”

  The following Friday Miss Bowser’s class gathered for their final exam. Bertie eyed the other dogs – Bonzo the boxer, Trixie the terrier and Dodie the Dalmatian. They had all been washed and combed for their big day.

  Out in the park was a doggy obstacle course. There were tiny hurdles, poles to weave through and a long blue tunnel. Miss Bowser had her clipboard and pencil at the ready to mark each dog’s performance. Whiffer tugged at his lead. Over on the other side of the park he’d spotted some boys playing frisbee. Frisbee was his favourite game.

  Dodie was first to be tested. She scored top marks, 10 out of 10 with no refusals. Bertie watched Bonzo and Trixie complete the course with flying colours too.

  Whiffer didn’t seem to be paying attention. He kept staring across the park.

  Finally it was Bertie’s turn. “OK, Whiffer,” he whispered. “Just follow me.” He set off at a run and cleared the first hurdle.

  Miss Bowser waved her clipboard. “No, no, Bertie! The dog, not you!”

  But Donna’s plan was working. Whiffer copied Bertie, stepping over the hurdles and clearing the jump like a racehorse. Bertie got down on his hands and knees to crawl through the tunnel.

  He danced in and out of the poles as everyone watched in amazement. Almost there! Suddenly a red frisbee whizzed by and hit him on the head.

  Whiffer barked excitedly. A frisbee meant a game. Uh oh, thought Bertie and grabbed it before Whiffer could pounce. A boy in a football shirt ran up.

  “Hey! That’s ours!” he said.

  Bertie meant to throw it back, but like most frisbees this one had a mind of its own. It took off and curved back over his head. It zoomed over the line of waiting dogs like a low-flying jet. Fifteen pairs of eyes watched it go. Fifteen dogs barked and leaped in the air, straining at their leads. Whiffer saw the frisbee coming back his way. He leaped high, caught it in his mouth and set off like a greyhound. Before you could shout “Stay!” the other dogs were after him.

  “Yikes!” cried Bertie, dodging out of the way as the pack thundered past. Dogs flattened Miss Bowser’s hurdles. Dogs swarmed like rats through the blue tunnel. Miss Bowser tried to stop them. She held up her hand like a policeman stopping the traffic. “SIT!” she yelled. Bonzo leaped at her and she vanished in the scrum.

  CHAPTER 4

  It took some time for all the dogs to be rounded up. The frisbee was returned to its owners slightly chewed at the edges. The blue tunnel had somehow got ripped. But what Bertie didn’t understand was why everyone blamed him!

  “It wasn’t my frisbee!” he pointed out. “I could’ve been killed getting bashed on the head like that. Instead of blaming me, you should be asking if I’m all right!”

  Miss Bowser did not seem to care if Bertie was all right. She had grass in her hair and muddy paw prints all over her skirt. She said they would get on with the awards so everyone could go home.

  Bertie watched gloomily as each dog and his owner went forward. He doubted if Whiffer would be getting his Diploma, not after all the fuss there’d been.

  “And finally…” said Miss Bowser. “Bertie and Whiffer.”

  Bertie trooped out to the front. Miss Bowser glared at him.

  “In twenty years I have never met a dog I couldn’t train,” she said. “Until now.”

  She lowered her voice. “However, I will give you this on one condition. That you promise you will never ever come to one of my classes again.”

  “Oh, I won’t,” said Bertie. “Honestly.”

  “Very well,” said Miss Bowser, handing him a piece of paper.

  Bertie looked at it.

  “Wow! Thanks!” he said. “Look, Whiffer. You passed!”

  Ten minutes later Bertie ran over to the car park where his mum was waiting.

  “Look, Mum!” he cried. “We did it! Whiffer passed!”

  Mum was delighted. She handed Bertie his pocket money – double his usual amount. “Well done, Bertie. And clever old Whiffer, I told you he could do it!” She glanced behind Bertie. “Where is he, by the way?”

  Bertie looked round just in time to catch sight of Whiffer racing across the field. He called out to him.

  “Whiffer! Here, boy! Come!”

  Whiffer didn’t even look back.

  Copyright

  STRIPES PUBLISHING

  An imprint of Little Tiger Press

  1 T
he Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,

  London SW6 6AW

  Characters created by David Roberts

  Text copyright © Alan MacDonald, 2007

  Illustrations copyright © David Roberts, 2007

  First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2012.

  eISBN: 978–1–84715–397–5

  The right of Alan MacDonald and David Roberts to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

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

  www.stripespublishing.co.uk