Jack and Poppy’s neighbour was old. An old lady.
She lived next door in the house with weeds under the letter box. She was shorter than mum and had a funny bent over shape. She always wore a floppy hat that was pink; like her nose. And her glasses were round, like her smile.
Her name was Mrs Threadbare.
Every time Mrs Threadbare saw Jack and Poppy she would stop and ask, “How are you, children?” And then, “Do you have room for a lollipop? Because I have some in my handbag.”
Then, without even waiting for their answer, Mrs Threadbare would push back her pink floppy hat and rummage around in her huge enormous handbag and after a while she’d say, “The lollipops were here … somewhere” and make little grunting noises until her small old-lady hands felt the lollipops right down at the bottom.
“Here they are!” she’d exclaim and pull out one for Jack and one for Poppy.
Such a nice old neighbour.
Well, one day Mrs Threadbare came bustling and running to Jack and Poppy’s home. Her pink floppy hat was flopped back and she’d left her lollipop bag at her place.
“Help!” she blurted out to mum. “My little dog’s gone.”
“Oh, no!” Mum and Jack and Poppy came tumbling out of the back door.
“Missing, where?” Jack asked.
Poppy said if Mrs Threadbare knew ‘where’ she wouldn’t say the little dog was lost. Because the dog would be in a place she knew about. Jack chuckled and looked up at their nice old neighbour and said, “We’ll try to find the dog for you, Mrs Threadbare.”
Well that was very easy to say, but very hard to do. Because Mrs Threadbare said her little dog had run out of her garden, along the footpath and up the hill.
Jack and Poppy and mum knew the hill was very big. Poppy said there were lots of places up there where a dog could go.
But Jack said, “We’ve got to find the little dog. Let’s get our friends to help us. Now. Before the night comes and we can’t see anything.”
So mum got a chair for Mrs Threadbare and sat her under the apple tree in the afternoon sun. Jack and Poppy raced around and found their friends. Mum got on her phone and texted dad. And before you could say ‘Mrs Threadbare’s little dog’ they were all spilling out the gate, along the footpath and up onto the hill.
Jack cheered. Poppy waved her arms. Their friends said they’d find Mrs Threadbare’s wee dog in ‘no time.’ Mum got a text from dad. “Dad’s coming too!” she called out.
And up and up they all went. Looking behind bushes. Peering into the clumps of long grass; the grass that comes up to your knees. Walking down into the dips and bumps and hollow places. (Poppy said there might be a cave in some of those dips so they had to check.) Then dad arrived, puffing and panting up the hill, and he said something to mum that made them both chuckle.
Everybody was looking really hard. They peered and poked. But no dog. The boys called and whistled. But the little dog didn’t bark back. The girls said they should make the whistling sound louder. But Mrs Threadbare’s dog didn’t seem to hear. It just wasn’t anywhere.
Then after a long time and a lot of looking they arrived at the place where you could see the actual top of the hill. There was still a long way to go to get there. And it was hot.
Dad said, “Maybe we need to all sit down and talk about this.” There was a flat shady place right there, so they all flopped down.
Jack’s friend said he didn’t know how they were going to track down the little dog because they hadn’t found him yet. Even though they’d tried so hard. He said, “There’s still a lot of grass and bushes and hollows to look at.”
But Jack said, “We’ve got to find him. It’s Mrs Threadbare’s dog!”
Then dad said he had an idea. He said, “My friend’s got a drone. If he could put his drone up and zoom all over the hill the drone might find the wee dog.”
That was a fantastic idea, mum said. “The drone can look everywhere really fast.” And Poppy clapped her hands and said she hoped the drone was charged up so they could send it right now, because the afternoon was starting to drain away. Jack chuckled. He said maybe they should put a plug in to stop the afternoon draining. Mum said, “Oh, Jack! You tease.”
Dad got on his phone and before they could say, ‘Mrs Threadbare’s little dog’ his friend’s drone came buzzing up the hill. “There it is!” Jack shouted. And he and the boys jumped up and did a little Arriving Dance. Poppy thought they were baltering [balter-ing] but she didn’t say that to them.
The drone came on and on and whizzed right up to them. Then it jerked to a stop and sat in the air just above their heads. It was big and blue with those whirling things and made a humming sound.
Dad stood up and said, “Now we’re talking!” He put his phone on video and talked with his friend and showed him where to send the drone. Mum said, “Things are looking up now.” And Poppy told her the drone really should be looking down. Down, at the hill. And mum chuckled and snuggled Poppy up to herself in a big mum-hug.
Then everyone sat down and watched the drone. It flicked away and was soon zigging and zagging. Darting here. Flipping there. Up and down. Going from side to side.
Jack hoped this was going to work. He looked at dad. Poppy pressed into mum’s warm side and hoped Mrs Threadbare’s dog wasn’t feeling sad. Poppy was. A little bit.
Then suddenly dad jumped up, laughing and smiling. “There he is!” He waved his phone around and did a little Arriving Dance. “Look!” Everyone crowded around the phone and, sure enough, there on the screen was Mrs Threadbare’s dog! The drone had found him.
Everyone laughed and got up and ran and stumbled through the long grass and little hollows to where the drone was sitting in the air. And right underneath was the wee dog. Wagging its tail. Making little running movements.
“We found you!” Poppy said and she bent down and collected the little dog in her arms. Jack tickled his ears and told him, “We’ll take you to Mrs Threadbare now.”
And what a happy smile Mrs Threadbare had when Jack and Poppy and mum and dad and their friends came home. She lifted up her little dog and hugged him and did a little Arriving Dance.
Then she smiled at Jack and Poppy and said, “You’re like the wise men who came looking for the baby Jesus. You know about them?”
Poppy asked, “The three wise men?”
Mrs Threadbare nodded. She said Yes, those men who knew a lot. They’d come looking and looking … and in the end they got some help and they found the baby Jesus. “Just like you today!”
Mum and dad nodded and went in and got glasses of delicious orange juice and cups of tea and mum’s muffins on a wide plate. And Mrs Threadbare said tomorrow she would see if she could find some lollipops for all the kids.