Sophie, Dog Overboard : The Incredible True Adventures of the Castaway Dog by Emma Pearse

boat was fishtailing ever so slightly. The wheel felt a little heavier than Jan was comfortable with. The clouds were looming even more than they had just moments ago, and looking a bit ominous.
    â€œDave,” she called down the steps. Dave continued his fiddling while Sophie’s ears pricked at the sound of Jan’s voice. “I think you might need to help me up here.”
    â€œOne minute,” said Dave. He glanced up at Sophiewho was looking at him inquisitively, as if to say,
Yes, Dave? What are we going to do now?
    â€œTuck, you stay here, girl. I’ll just be a minute,” Dave said, stroking her under the chin and soliciting a happy grunt. The pup’s head was tilted as he made his way up to Jan on the flybridge level.
    Dave toggled switches, pressed a button or two and looked out at the water. He hurried back down to Sophie who was standing at the foot of the stairs, panting and looking up with eager eyes. While they didn’t like to pander to Sophie’s neediness—the Griffiths’ creed being that dogs weren’t babies and that they needed their independence—they hated to be apart from her as much as she hated to be apart from them.
    On this October morning, Dave realized he had one more adjustment to make and so he climbed the stairs again. “Stay there, Tuck,” he said and walked across the deck of the flybridge to the steering wheel, leaving Sophie just at the bottom of the ladder. Dave made sure that everything was in manual and Jan was comfortable with the direction. The sun had given way to an overcast day that the weather report hadn’t predicted. The wind had come up and there seemed to be a few more ripples in the water beneath them, but
Honey May
was still running smoothly.
    Dave gave Jan a rub on the shoulder, saying, “You all right?” Jan nodded her head in the affirmative. After a few minutes spent making sure Jan was comfortable, Dave went back down the steps to the ever-waitingSophie. She wasn’t directly at the bottom of the ladder where he’d told her to stay. As Dave climbed down, he wondered why she hadn’t trotted over to greet him.
    â€œTuck. Tucker,” he called when he still didn’t see her. He waited a minute.
    â€œTuck. Sophie.” His heart quickened. When no happy pup came bounding, Dave swore. There were not many places to hide on the boat and it wasn’t Sophie’s way to be difficult. He ran downstairs into the bedroom. He made his way along the side rails to the front deck where Sophie had spent so much time with Jan and Bridget. He saw that she wasn’t there either.
    In that instant, with a terrible sick certainty, he knew that she was gone. Time stood still.
    But not for long.
    â€œJan! Hit the man-overboard button!” he yelled. “What? What’s happened?” Jan yelled, scrambling for the button.
    Dave knew that those first few seconds would be vital if they were to stand any chance of spotting Sophie. Fighting his rising panic, he kept it together as he leaned over the rails, making his way all over to see if she was just over the edge. “Sophie’s gone. She’s gotta be around though,” Dave yelled out. The boat came to an eerie stop as Jan and Dave began to scream her name. Jan could feel her heart pound.
Was this really happening?
    Fighting his rising panic, Dave raced inside for thebinoculars. It wasn’t even mid-morning but the day had become really overcast and the sky was now closer to the gray of Sophie’s fur than it was to the sparkly, sultry days Queensland is famous for.
    Dave scanned the water and Jan scrambled downstairs. She was telling herself that all the time Sophie had spent in the water with the family would mean she’d be able to swim. She’d be OK. But the weather was turning against them. “It was gray, it had become not a nice day and so even if she’d been close, we couldn’t have seen her little