Dogsbody by Diana Wynne Jones

seemed to think he was one of the four moronic hallo-dogs.
    “Here! Isn’t this your Bruce got out again?” one of them shouted to the man in the bulldozer.
    “No,” bellowed the man. “Must be Rover or Redears. Can’t tell them apart.”
    While they were bawling to one another, Sirius slipped off and came to a wide cindery place where all the houses had been cleared away. It ended in a part which had evidently been knocked down, but not cleared, some years before. There were big heaps of rubble, with bare bushes and small trees sprouting from them. The bricks and cinders were covered with white grass and the dry stalks of tall weeds.
    As Sirius pushed his way through, he felt a tingle. It was more than a smell, bigger than a feeling. It was tingling, living, huge. He froze, with his head up. Only a Zoi could feel like that. It
must
be the Zoi. But the tingle was gone as he froze. Sirius strained nose, ears, everything, to catch it again. But there was nothing. Perhaps the wind had changed. Sirius ran to and fro, casting for the scent, or feeling, or whatever it was, almost frantic. There was nothing, absolutely nothing. He seemed to have lost the Zoi the moment he found it. Despairingly, he looked up at Sol.
    Sol was much lower down the sky than he expected. Another anxiety came over Sirius. “What time is it?”
    “Half past three Greenwich,” said Sol. “What’s the matter?”
    For a moment, Sirius felt he was being torn in two. The Zoi was here somewhere. He knew it was. But Kathleen would be home from school just after four. He had barely time to get back. He turned and set off trotting fast in what his dog sense told him was the way home. “The Zoi,” he said over his shoulder to Sol. “It’s somewhere quite near. But I can’t stay.” He was angry with himself.The dog in him had cheated his green nature by lying cunningly low until the last moment. It had intended to go home all the time. “I can’t
help
it!” he told Sol angrily.
    “Of course not,” said Sol. “You can come here tomorrow. I’ll try and trace the thing which fell nearest here.”

7
    L ike the wind, and straight as a die, Sirius made for home. He passed a number of people on the way who tried to stop him and talk to him. “Here, boy. Nice dog.” But Sirius was in too much of a hurry to attend. He went straight past their inviting hands without pausing or turning aside. He crossed roads, quickly but carefully. By the time he reached the lane behind the yard, Sol was behind the houses, at least another half hour down, and Sirius was almost too tired and puffed to trot.
    “There you are at last!” said Tibbles.
    Sirius looked up to see her, and Romulus and Remus, sitting in an anxious huddle on the wall by the gate. He was astonished—and touched and pleased—to see they had all been worrying about him. Then he was alarmed. “Has Duffie noticed I was gone?”
    “Not
she
,” said Remus.
    “Kathleen’s coming down the street in front,” said Romulus.
    Sirius did not have time to think how to undo the latch. Hesimply upped and trod on it, and sprang away backwards, hoping. The gate swung open. Sirius stumbled wearily inside.
    “Shut it,” said Tibbles. “Unless you want that collar tightened.”
    Groaning, Sirius faced the gate and wondered how he could shut it. The latch was within reach of his mouth. He could only try. He put his teeth around the unpleasant oily rusty-tasting metal and dragged backwards. The gate swung, and clicked shut. “Thank goodness for that!” Sirius made for his collar, lying at the end of its rope. If he had had time to think how to get it on, he would probably not have been able to do it. But he was in such a panic that his green intelligence swept aside his dog stupidity. Without thinking, he lay down, propped the empty collar between both front paws, put his head into it and pushed. Then he keeled over on his side, wanting only to sleep, and rather thinking he might die.
    But there was no