Training Ollie

Training Ollie


"He’s mine,” Annie shouted jumping up and down at the garden gate.
“He’s not,” Ryan argued with his ten year old sister. “He’s mine too.”
“He’s everyone’s,” their father’s voice boomed across the driveway.
As he opened the boot of the car, a black football sized puppy bowled out, almost knocking Mr Geeves over.
“I’m calling him Ollie,” Annie announced as the puppy bounced around her.
“His name is Rex,” Ryan stamped his foot. “I’m older I should choose.”
Taking the lead from his father, he pulled the little dog away from Annie into the yard.
“We’ll pull a name out of a hat,” Mrs Geeves said.
Mr Geeves locked the gate as Annie unhooked the puppy’s lead, letting him tear across the garden. He stuck his nose in the potted plants, sniffed around their bicycles propped up against the fence and started digging up the lawn.
“No boy,” Annie warned. “Play with us.”
They surrounded the puppy, fussing him, stroking his shiny coat; he rolled onto his back wanting his belly rubbed.
“OK kids, lets pick a name,” their mum said bringing out one of their dad’s baseball caps with paper and pens.
She tore the paper in four and handed each of them a quarter. Quietly they chose a name, folded their papers in half and dropped them one at a time into the hat, Annie kissed hers for luck. Mrs Geeves shook it up so no one could argue.
“Can I pick?” Annie asked.
“Dad will,” she said trying to keep it fair.
Mr Geeves dug his hand in and swirled the papers about, he pulled a square out.
“Ollie,” Annie whispered.
“Rex,” Ryan glared at her.
“And his name is......” they held their breath. “Ollie.”
“Yes!” Annie screamed wrapping her arms around Ollie.
“Don’t worry son we’ll...”
“I’m going to find David,” he interrupted his father.
“Be back by dinner,” Mrs Geeves said as he retrieved his bike.
Ollie ran to the gate whining as he disappeared down the road. Annie fussed him, taking his attention away from Ryan; he ran around her, yapping, practicing his bark.
“Sit,” Annie ordered, pointing her finger at him.
Ollie stood still, wagging his tail, considering her command; she pushed his bottom towards the ground.
“Sit,” she repeated. “Now lie down.”
He raised a paw, hoping for a treat; Annie sat next to him then lay down on her stomach, mimicking what he was supposed to do.
“See, lie down and roll over.”
She turned onto her back, Ollie jumped up and over her, nuzzling her neck.
“Ollie stop!” she giggled.
She pushed him playfully away, wiping the saliva from her cheeks. He dashed to his basket and sunk his teeth into a squeaky ball. The shrill noise echoed through the yard, he tossed it into the air, letting it land at Annie’s feet.
“OK,” she said picking up the toy. “Sit.”
Growling low, he bent his back legs and sat.
“Good boy, now fetch.”
She threw the ball towards the house, Ollie bounded after it, skidding as the ball hit the ground and bounced over him. She laughed as he found his footing and leapt on top of it, shaking his ebony head in time with his tail. Annie grabbed for the ball, he jumped backwards inches from her reach; she crouched to his level staring in his dark eyes. His tail slowed, beating like a drum, she swiped her arms forwards, knocking the ball from his mouth; it squeaked along the path, they raced, her foot caught it first, kicking it across the lawn.
Ollie spun and chased his opponent to the prize, he won and batted the ball between his paws, waiting for Annie to try again. She crept around him, tip toeing to his side; Ollie let the ball roll a little way beyond his paws. She dashed forwards, kicking the ball upwards and pitched it straight over the garden fence.
“Oops,” she exclaimed watching Ollie’s toy settled on their neighbour’s lawn.
Ollie pushed his nose through the wooden posts; he jumped up, stretching tall but he barely touched the top.
“Down boy,” Annie said patting him on his head.
Balancing carefully she climbed up, grasping the pointed edges for support, wobbling as she twisted her leg over to straddle the fence.
“Annie get down!” her mother shouted.
Swiftly she scrambled to the ground, Mrs Geeves stormed out of the house.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Annie looked at the floor, “the ball landed over there,” she pointed next door.
Her mother sighed, “why didn’t you try using the doorbell?”
Annie shrugged.
“Well, you’ll have to wait, I saw Mrs Field leave earlier, you can ask for it when she returns.”
“But Ollie wants to play.”
“Then find something else to use.”
Mrs Geeves walked away leaving Annie consoling the puppy.
“Don’t worry we’ll find something.”
She scanned the garden; a few shirts hung drying on the washing line, her smile lifted.
“Stay here,” she ordered.
Annie dashed inside and she re-emerged carrying a dirty white t-shirt. The puppy ran in circles around her legs, she pressed the cloth under his nose.
“Smell,” she urged raising it to her own nose and returning it in front of him.
He nipped at the shirt trying to take it from her.
“No sniff,” she said drawing it further away.
Holding his collar she led him into the kitchen, keeping the t-shirt close to his snout.
“Find boy,” she directed and let her grip loosen.
He whined for the shirt, jumping up with one paw on her leg; she guided him under the table and around the chairs, helping him to pick up the scent. She opened cupboards for him to explore and gently let go of his collar.
“Where is it?” she urged from the centre of the room.
Ollie searched every corner and crack until he reached the washing machine.
“Warmer,” Annie whispered.
The hallway door creaked snapping Ollie’s attention towards the intruder.
“Mum! We’re training!”
“Sorry love,” she said moving into the room, Ollie trailed her sensing food.
“He almost found it.”
“Found what?”
“I was teaching him to be a sniffer dog,” Annie said ignoring her mum’s question.
“With what?” she asked.
Annie hid the t-shirt behind her back, her mother’s eyes bore into hers.
“Ryan’s shirt,” she murmured.
Mrs Geeves rolled her eyes towards the ceiling.
“They’re already dirty,” Annie defended.
“Put them back, your brother will be home any minute.”
Annie nodded glumly and retrieved the second shirt from inside the washing machine.
“You found it boy,” she congratulated him from his new spot under the chopping board.

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“He should be home by now,” Mrs Geeves said glancing at the clock as she carried two plates of steaming spaghetti to the table.
“He’ll be on his way, he’s got to be hungry.” Mr Geeves commented.
Mr Geeves dug his fork into the pasta, Ollie’s tail swept the floor as the tasty aroma hit his nose. Mrs Geeves sat twisting the cutlery in her hands, watching the sun lowering in the sky. Annie stabbed a meatball and slipped it off the side of her plate into Ollie’s paws.
“Annie do not feed the dog at the table,” her father warned.
“I don’t like this,” Mrs Geeves said and left the table.
Through the hallway they could hear her muffled voice speaking briefly into the telephone; the lines on her face straightened tightly as she rejoined them.
“David was home an hour ago, he left Ryan cycling back here,” she told them, wringing her hands tensely.
Mr Geeves pushed his plate away, “call the police, I’ll drive around, retrace his route home.”
“Ollie can find him,” Annie said.
“No stay here with mum.”
“But he’s a sniffer dog and Ryan always cuts through the park. Please dad.”
He looked at the black Labrador sitting patiently beside his daughter.
“OK but keep your eyes open and stick with me at all times,” he agreed. “I’ll call as soon as we find him,” he promised his wife.
They climbed in the car with Ollie on the back seat; Annie rolled down one of the windows for him. The sky was turning navy blue, winter was closing in; streetlamps and headlights lit the road. Ryan should have followed the main path from David’s to their house but Annie knew he liked to ride the bumpy hills in the park near the woods. Mr Geeves stopped the car by the entrance to the park; the gates were locked. He took a flashlight from the car, shining it along the tree line. He found a gap between a smaller gate and the bushes and pushed them back open for Annie to squeeze in.
“Find Ryan,” she said into the puppy’s ear, stroking his head at the same time.
They followed the muddy route through over growing weeds to the designated walking trail. Ollie kept ahead of them pulling the lead taut, straining to go faster. Annie stayed strong, digging her heels in, trying to keep within the beam of light, away from the shadows. The path opened up to the middle field, a lake with nesting ducks shimmered darkly in the distance; the full moon gave them a good view of the area.
“He likes to ride over there,” she pointed past the lake to the rising hill.
Ryan had taken her there once when he was given babysitting duty for the afternoon.
They walked faster, ‘please let him be there’, Annie thought.
“Ryan!” Mr Geeves called. “Ryan!”
No answer; Annie reeled Ollie in.
“Where’s Ryan boy? Find Ryan.”
“Ryan!”
Her father’s voice echoed in the darkness, Ollie jerked forwards forcing Annie to run with him.
“Annie stop!” her father called.
“Can’t,” she replied breathlessly.
He took the path to the left of the hill, gaining speed; Annie’s foot caught on a tree root, she stumbled sideways, grazing her arm and lost her grip on the lead.
Mr Geeves picked her up, “are you OK?”
She nodded, sniffling tears; Ollie skidded to a halt a couple of meters ahead, barking furiously, scraping at the mud.
“Ryan!” they shouted together.
They ran to the spot Ollie had found and listened.
“Ryan?” Mr Geeves searched the place with his torch.
“Dad,” a faded voice sounded in the thicket of the trees.
“Ryan where are you?”
“Dad!”
“Annie stay with Ollie.”
He moved towards his son’s voice, Ollie barked louder, Mr Geeves look down. The ground fell away inches from his feet, the edge disguised in the undergrowth. He lay on his belly and peered over, Ryan sat among the tree roots as black as Ollie and the mud.
“Are you hurt?” his father asked.
“My leg, I can’t move it.”
“Don’t worry we’ll get you out of there,” he assured Ryan.
Mr Geeves moved safely away and dialled 999, Annie talked to Ryan until they heard sirens, Ollie barked until they tracked them down.
“Well done,” Annie praised their hero as her brother was hoisted up and onto solid ground.
“My bike?” he asked as he was placed onto a stretcher.
“We’ll get that later,” Mr Geeves said.
“The ground just fell,” Ryan swallowed trying to explain.
“Which is why you never come here in the dark,” his father scolded.
“Sorry dad,” he said knowing it was not the last time he would have to apologise.
“Save it for your mother, you’ll be spending a lot of time indoors for awhile.”
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“Ollie did it,” Annie said. “He sniffed you out.”
“Really?”
“I guess so,” their father agreed.
“Hey,” Ryan tapped the side of the stretcher; Ollie jumped up and licked his hand. “Thanks boy.”
“He likes playing football,” Annie told him.
Annie pulled him away as the paramedics wheeled Ryan into the ambulance.
“Ollie’s not such a bad name,” he said before they closed the doors.
“It’s a great name for a sniffer dog,” Annie said.