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Ugly. When you’ve done that, come back and we’ll talk some more.’
    I found Mum. She was giving Ugly’s grooming brush and comb a wash in the laundry bucket. I wrote down everything she said. I already knew most of it, but making the list made me take notice. What she did for Ugly made me feel bad. This is my list of Mum’s chores:
• Take Ugly for a little poo walk early each morning;
• After getting him to sit, give him breakfast and afterwards wash his bowls;
• Refill his water bowl;
• Lay Ugly on a mat and comb and brush his fur;
• Shake out Ugly’s bedding;
• Clean up most of his messes/house-train him;
• Take him for a long evening walk and give him his evening meal;
• Every few weeks, give Ugly a bath and wash his bedding;
• Give Ugly health checks and take him for vaccinations.
    And all of this was before and after she went to work. Saying I had school was a weak excuse.
    Next, I started on my timetable. Trying to fit in the morning jobs meant I had to wake up earlier. Then I added the evening jobs and realised I’d have to cut back on my free time if I was going to get everything done.
    I read my new timetable and sensed something was missing. What had Grandad said you had to do for a dog? Then I remembered. It was feeding, grooming, walking, playing and training. I looked at the incredibly long list of things Mum did for Ugly. She fed, groomed, walked and watched Ugly’s health. But I was right – two things were still missing. They were things Mum had not had enough time to do – train Ugly properly and play with him. I felt a light bulb go off in my head. I knew why Ugly had chewed up my Parthenon project. He was bored.

Chapter Thirteen
    â€˜How do you make a dog un-bored?’ I asked Grandad at breakfast the next morning.
    Mum and Dad had already left for work, although Gretchen was rushing through the kitchen to get her car keys off the wall hook. She heard what I said and joined in.
    â€˜Try having a personality change, Ec. That might help.’
    â€˜Very funny. Ha, Ha,’ I said in an unfunny voice. I surprised myself by speaking this way. It was better than having a sook. For once, Gretchen didn’t have a nasty comeback.
    â€˜It’s actually an interesting question,’ said Grandad, taking a gulp of hot black tea and a bite of marmalade toast. ‘And, Eric, you’ve put your finger on one of the keys to encouraging a dog to willingly obey you.’
    â€˜Likely!’ said Gretchen, throwing her keys in her handbag.
    â€˜Your words exactly, Gretchen,’ said Grandad. ‘More than likely. A certainty. Naturally, all dogs love playing, but an intelligent dog like Ugly also enjoys learning and communicating. In a nutshell, if someone plays with and trains Ugly, he will not be bored.’
    Gretchen tossed her head in a snooty way. ‘Well, bored dogs are low on my list. I have more important things to do, like get to work and talk to human beings.’ She rushed out of the room.
    Grandad said we’d talk more at the end of the day after school. ‘Now put your timetable under one of those magnets on the fridge, and get that dog fed. You do your bit, and I’ll spend the day thinking about what Ugly and you need to do.’
    It was comforting, knowing that a grown-up cared enough about my problems to spend a day thinking.
    At school, when I told Hugh and Milly about what Grandad was saying, they both agreed I was lucky to have a grandfather to give me advice.
    Hugh didn’t have a grandfather alive. ‘But I have a lovely grandma. She taught me to knit,’ he said.
    â€˜Grandparents can teach you useful things.’ Both lots of Milly’s grandparents lived in other states. ‘We chat online,’ said Milly. ‘I sometimes play a word game called Scrabble with one of my grandfathers.’
    â€˜Yes,’ I said, ‘grandparents are