DJ’s handwriting was on the envelope. She’d been pushing thoughts of him to the back of her mind, but couldn’t quite forget him. ‘Thanks, that’s kind of you to bring it, Dad. Would you like a look around while you’re here?’

‘Me? Well, yes, I would. Often wondered what you do all day.’

Just then, everyone’s attention was taken by a kerfuffle in the doorway. Mrs Jackson was hanging on to the window bar with one hand, and the Dobermann’s leash with the other. Shelly opened the door.

‘Can I help?’

Mrs Jackson was sweating and red in the face. ‘I’m afraid he remembers when I last brought him here – to have his nuts off – I don’t think he’ll ever forgive you, vet.’

‘Poor sod! Neither would I,’ Gordon muttered.

‘I see you had his ears cropped, against my advice.’ Shelly tried to keep her tone even, despite her anger.

‘Not me. My son. I was furious.’ She uttered, with forty-five kilos of unhappy muscle pulling her out of the door.

‘Let me help,’ said Eve, reaching for the lead.

In a second, everything changed. The Dobermann’s hackles went up, along with its lip. The whites of his eyes flashed and the snarl that came from him made it terrifyingly clear it was on the verge of a savage attack. Despite the muzzle, it could do some serious damage.

‘Everyone look at the floor, immediately,’ Shelly said flatly though her heart raced. ‘Mrs Jackson, can you wrap the lead around the window bar and tie it off?’ She did. ‘Now everyone step backwards without turning away from the dog. ‘Don’t look at him, don’t speak, don’t show your teeth even in a smile.’

Shelly made a humming noise which immediately caught the dog’s attention. The snarling stopped and he dropped his head to one side, then peered at her curiously. Shelly mirrored his behaviour, then she spoke softly, turned slightly sideways and moved a little closer. She made a fist with her hand and slowly raised the back of it towards the dog’s muzzle. All the time, she talked quietly until it lowered its head and dipped towards her. She scratched under his collar and he sat.

‘Good boy,’ she said softly.

*

An hour later, with the dog anaesthetised, Shelly cleaned below its gumline. ‘There it is, the reason for his bad temper. It looks like a bee sting inside his mouth,’ she said. ‘Must have driven him crazy, especially when Mrs Jackson put the muzzle on.’

‘Your dad was amazing, wasn’t he? I mean, even I was a bit rattled, but he just stood there, calm as you like.’

Shelly straightened and stretched her back. ‘Yes, he was, even I was surprised. That’s the plaque removed. Now a quick de-scale and polish for a brighter, whiter, smile.’