8 Training your dragon the hard way

8. TRAINING YOUR DRAGON THE HARD WAY Hiccup was still pretty certain, knowing dragons as he did, that yelling was the easiest method of training them. So, over the next couple of weeks, he tried yelling at Toothless to see if he could make it work. He tried yelling loudly, firmly, strictly. He looked as cross as he could. But Toothless wouldn't take him seriously. Hiccup finally gave up on the yelling when Toothless stole a kipper off his plate one morning at breakfast. Hiccup let out his most fierce and frightening yell and Toothless just gave him a wicked look and knocked everything else on to the floor with one swipe of his tail. That was it with the yelling, as far as Hiccup was concerned. 'OK, then,' said Hiccup, 'I'll try going to the other extreme.' So he was as nice to Toothless as he possibly could be. He gave Toothless the comfiest bit of the bed and then lay dangerously balanced on the

edge of it himself. He fed him as much kipper and lobster as he wanted. He only did this once, though, as the little dragon just went on eating until he had made himself thoroughly sick. He played games with him for hours and hours. He told him jokes, he brought him mice to eat, he scratched the bit that Toothless couldn't quite reach in between the spokes on his back. He made that dragon's life as close to Dragon Heaven as he possibly could. By mid February, the winter was coming to an end on Berk, and the snowy season had turned into the rainy season. It was the kind of weather where your clothes never got dry, no matter what. Hiccup would hang up his sodden tunic on a chair in front of the fire before going to bed at night, and in the morning it would still be wet– warm and wet rather than cold and wet, but WET nonetheless. The ground all around the Village had turned into knee-deep mud. 'What, in Woden's name, are you doing?' asked Fishlegs, when he came across Hiccup digging a large

hole just outside the house. 'Building a mud-wallow for Toothless,' panted Hiccup. 'You spoil that dragon, you really do,' said Fishlegs, shaking his head. 'It's psychology, you see,' said Hiccup, 'It's clever and it's subtle, not like that caveman yelling you're doing with Horrorcow.' Fishlegs had named his dragon Horrorcow. The 'horror' bit was to make the poor creature at least sound a bit frightening. The 'cow' bit was because for a dragon she really was remarkably like a cow. She was a large, peaceful, brown creature, with an easygoing nature. Fishlegs suspected she might even be vegetarian. 'I'm always catching her nibbling at the woodwork,' he complained. 'BLOOD, Horrorcow, BLOOD– that's what you should want!' Nonetheless, maybe Fishlegs was a better yeller than Hiccup, or maybe Horrorcow was a lazier and more obliging character than Toothless, but Horrorcow was proving very easy to train by the yelling method. 'OK, Toothless, it's ready,' said Hiccup. 'Get

yourself a good wallow.' Toothless stopped trying to catch voles and leapt into the mud. He rolled over and over in the oozy gunge, spreading out his wings and squirming happily. 'I'm bonding with him,' said Hiccup, 'so he'll want to do what I say.' 'Hiccup,' said Fishlegs, as Toothless sucked up a good mouthful of the mud and spat it out straight into Hiccup's face, 'I may not know much about dragons, but I do know that they are the most selfish creatures on earth. No dragon is ever going to do what you want out of gratitude. Dragons do not know what gratitude is. Give up. This will NEVER WORK.' 'The thing about us d-d-dragons,' said Toothless, helpfully, 'is we're s-s-survivors. We're not like s-s-soppy cats or d-d-dumb dogs, falling in l-l-love with their Masters and yucky things like that.

Only reason we ever do what a m-m-man wants is because he's b-b-bigger than us and gives us food.' 'What's he saying?' asked Fishlegs. 'Pretty much what you're saying,' said Hiccup. 'N-n-never trust a dragon,' said Toothless, cheerfully hopping out of the wallow and helping himself to one of the winkles that Hiccup had found for him. (Toothless was particularly fond of winkles– 'J-j-just like picking your n-n-nose,' he said). 'That's what my m-m-mother taught me in the nest, and she should know.' Hiccup sighed. It was true. Toothless was cute to look at, and very good company– if a little demanding. However, you only had to look into his big, innocent, heavily-lashed eyes to realise that he was totally without morals. The eyes were ancient, the eyes of a killer. You might as well ask a crocodile or a shark to be your friend. Hiccup wiped the mud off his face. 'I'll think of something else,' said Hiccup. February turned into March and Hiccup was still thinking. A few flowers made the mistake of appearing and were immediately blasted out of existence by a

couple of hard frosts that had kept themselves back for this very purpose. Fishlegs could now get Horrorcow to 'go' and 'stay' on command. Hiccup was still struggling to teach Toothless the basics of toilet-training. 'NO POOING IN THE KITCHEN,' said Hiccup for the hundredth time, carrying Toothless outside after yet another accident. 'Is w-w-warmer in the kitchen,' whined Toothless. 'But poos go OUTSIDE, you KNOW that,' said Hiccup, at the end of his tether. Toothless promptly pooed all over Hiccup's hands and down his tunic. 'Is OUTSIDE, is OUTSIDE, is OUTSIDE,' crowed Toothless. At this inopportune moment, Snotlout and Dogsbreath came sauntering past Stoick's house on the way back from the beach, their dragons on their shoulders. 'Well, well, well,' sneered Snotlout, 'if it isn't the USELESS, covered in dragon poo. It actually quite suits you.' 'Hur, Hur, Hur,' snorted Dogsbreath.