by Ellen Miles
Charles thought the puppies might need a nap, too. They’d had so much exercise that morning, running up and down the trail. By the end of the hike, Buddy had been slowing down. Finally, he just sat — right in the middle of the trail. That was the sign that he was tired and wanted someone to pick him up. Dad had carried Buddy for the last part of the hike. Even Bentley was panting by the time they got back to the flagpole.
Charles liked capture the flag. He’d played it lots of times at school. He was always good at coming up with a strategy. Now, at Misty Valley, he was extra happy when he saw that Shawna was the referee for the game. Charles volunteered to guard his team’s jail. He hoped that would put him in position to talk to Shawna a little more. After all, his family was only there for the weekend. He didn’t have much time if he was going to find Bentley a new home.
Of course, he also had to keep his eye on his team’s hidden flag.
Remembering what Logan had taught them during the morning’s hike, he’d suggested they hide their bright yellow flag in the yellow leaves of a beech tree. Now he could barely see the flag from where he stood, so he knew his idea had been a good one.
While Charles’s team hid their yellow flag, the other team needed to hide and protect a red one. He peered across the meadow, trying to see where they’d put it.
“I see Buddy has met Bentley,” Shawna said to Charles once the game started. She pointed to a picnic table on the sidelines.
Charles glanced over to see that Dad had come out to watch the game, with both dogs. He must have given up on his nap. The puppies were rolling in the grass. Every time they collided, they nipped and wrestled in a friendly way. Charles smiled. So Shawna already knew Bentley. That was a good sign.
“Yeah,” Charles replied, watching the action in the game at the other end of the field. “Bentley is awesome. He’s such a fun puppy. He’s really energetic, happy, and smart.” He watched Shawna’s face to see her reaction. He could tell she agreed with him about Bentley, just by the way she smiled as she watched the dogs play.
“All Weimaraners are smart,” he added, “but I think Bentley is super smart.” Charles realized that he sounded a lot like Lizzie. She was always going on and on about dogs. But he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to make his point. He needed to convince Shawna to adopt Bentley.
Just as Charles was about to add that the breed was extremely loyal, Shawna spoke up. “I know,” she said, her eyes still on the capture-the-flag action. “Mr. Merrick told me he wants to find Bentley a new home. I’d love to adopt him, but I already have three full-grown dogs in a small apartment. I think Bentley needs a lot of attention, and my guys demand all my time.”
Charles’s heart rose when he heard for sure that Mr. Merrick wanted to find Bentley a new home. But then he realized what else Shawna had said: that she couldn’t adopt Bentley. His heart sank way back down to his tummy. It felt worse than the moment he thought he was falling during the Flying Squirrel. He had convinced himself that Shawna was perfect for Bentley.
“Uh-oh, Charles,” Shawna said. “Looks like you’re going to be busy. Some kids on Team Red are headed for jail.”
Shawna was right — about the game, but especially about Bentley. Charles knew that the silver pup did need someone who could give him lots of love and attention. Charles still wanted to find that person, but time was running out. If Shawna wasn’t going to adopt Bentley, maybe it was time to start thinking about whether Logan would.
Later, Charles couldn’t even remember how the rest of the game had gone. He was in a hurry for it to be over. He wanted to concentrate on Bentley.
When they took Bentley back to the welcome center, Charles was ready. He took Bentley in while Dad and Buddy waited outside. “Hey, Mr. Merrick,” he said. “Thanks for letting us keep Bentley for the day.”
“Sure thing,” the camp director said, coming out from behind the counter. He knelt down to greet the puppy.
“Bentley really liked that hike with Logan. Logan liked Bentley, too. He said Bentley was extra helpful when he helped a hurt kid feel better.” Charles took a deep breath as he watched the older man’s face.
“Did you do that, boy?” Mr. Merrick asked, rubbing the puppy all over. Bentley ran in a tight circle in front of the camp director, then jumped up on his knees, panting in his face.
Today was so fun! So, so, so fun! But I missed you. It’s good to see you again, too!
“Logan was really great with Bentley,” Charles said. “He seems like a nice guy. Do you know if he has any dogs?”
“I don’t think Logan has a dog right now,” said Mr. Merrick. “But you’re right — he’s really nice. He and my son used to work together. They’d go up north to the ski resorts in the winter. They had a lot of fun. I think Logan will be heading up there soon.”
Charles nodded. This was good. Mr. Merrick liked Logan. That was important.
After dinner, Charles and his parents headed to the camp bonfire. Everyone at Misty Valley was invited. Charles waved when he spotted Lizzie sitting on a stump by the big, roaring fire. He was surprised to realize how much he had missed her. He couldn’t wait to tell her how things were going with finding Bentley a new home. Plus, if they talked about Bentley, at least he wouldn’t have to hear more about her fantastic camping skills. He went to sit next to her and told her what Shawna had said about why she couldn’t adopt Bentley.
“She’s right,” Lizzie said. “Bentley will need a lot of attention, so she’s not the right match.”
“And then I met Logan,” Charles said. “He’s so great. He was really good with Bentley. He loves to hike, and his winter job is at a ski resort.”
“Ski resort?” Lizzie asked.
“Yup! Perfect, right?” Charles said. “Plenty of outside time.”
“I don’t know.” Lizzie shook her head. “Weimaraners have such short hair. They don’t like cold weather. I heard they can be kind of wimpy that way.”
Charles frowned. Why did she have to say that? Logan was his best candidate for Bentley’s new forever owner. Lizzie might know a lot about dogs, but she didn’t know Bentley like he did. Charles was sure Bentley could handle a little cold weather.
Charles looked across the bonfire and saw that Mr. Merrick was sitting on a log next to the flames. Bentley sat close beside him, practically on his lap. Charles elbowed Lizzie and pointed the pair out to her.
Lizzie glanced over and smiled. It was a sweet moment. Mr. Merrick stroked Bentley’s back while two little girls held their hands out for Bentley to sniff. Bentley sniffed, then licked their fingers all over. Both girls giggled.
Hi, hi, hi! Let’s be friends now. I’ll give you lots of kisses, so you know I like you.
“Mr. Merrick likes Logan,” Charles said. He couldn’t let it go. “Logan used to work with his son.” Charles watched Mr. Merrick stroke the puppy’s head. He could tell he cared a lot about Bentley.
“Mr. Merrick has a son?” Lizzie asked. “What about him? Maybe he can adopt Bentley.”
Charles sighed. “Nope. His dog, Bones, died a while ago, and he isn’t over it yet. He doesn’t want another dog. Mr. Merrick says he still misses that basset hound.”
“Hmmm,” Lizzie said with a sigh. “Well, Bentley obviously likes kids. Maybe you should think about looking for a family who would like to adopt him.”
“We leave tomorrow,” Charles reminded Lizzie.
“I don’t know how you’ll find Bentley an owner by then. But I do know I want a s’more. Come on.” Lizzie grabbed Charles by the hand and dragged him over to the s’more station. Charles let himself be dragged. He was still thinking about Bentley, but he could think about chocolate and marshmallows, too.
“Blueberry muffins,” Mom announced the next morning. Charles rolled over in his bunk and looked toward the door. Mom had just come into the cabin, bringing a blast of brisk air. She carried a plate piled with baked goods and apples. She already had her backpack on, and Charles could see her tall, green, to-go coffee mug i
n the drink holder on one side. He guessed Dad’s red one was in the other.
“Coffee,” Dad mumbled from the bedroom.
Charles watched as Dad stumbled out of the room, pulling on his sweater. Now he remembered: they were going on the early bird-watching hike.
Charles sat up. It was their last day at Misty Valley and he still had so much to do. Only one more day to find Bentley a new home!
He pulled on his clothes and then snapped Buddy’s leash onto the puppy’s collar. “Can Buddy and I go ahead?” Charles asked. “I want to find out if we can take Bentley birdwatching with us.”
“Hold on there, bud,” said Dad. “We should all go together, since one of us will have to hold Bentley if Mr. Merrick says yes.”
Charles shifted from foot to foot while Dad finished putting on his hiking boots. He was relieved when Mom said they could eat their muffins on the way.
When they left the cabin, Charles understood why the camp was called Misty Valley. A layer of thick, wet fog hovered just above the ground. It filled the meadow where they had played capture the flag. It hung in the cluster of trees where they had flown like squirrels. It was especially thick over the creek that ran down from the hills.
As they walked, Mom began listing birds she hoped they might see on their walk. She ticked them off on her fingers. “Definitely lots of ducks and geese, by the pond. Sharp-shinned hawks. A peregrine falcon. Merlins.”
“Merlins?” Charles asked.
“Small falcons,” Mom told him. “They can fly really fast, though not as fast as peregrine falcons. Those are one of the fastest birds.”
“Why are there so many birds around here?” Charles asked.
“Well, partly because we’re in the woods,” Mom said. “But also, it’s the start of the fall migration and a lot of birds are passing through on their way to warmer spots for the winter.”
When they were almost to the welcome center, Charles’s parents let him run ahead. Mom held on to Buddy, who tried to chase after Charles.
Charles gave the door a light knock and turned the knob. “Hi, Mr. Merrick,” he said. “Can we take Bentley on our hike?”
Mr. Merrick raised a hand and pointed to the phone he held to his ear. “Oops, sorry,” said Charles. He had not meant to interrupt.
Charles lingered by the door for a few moments. He inched his way to the side so he could get a glimpse of the Weimaraner puppy. Bentley spotted Charles right away. He wagged his tail so hard it banged against the side of the crate, then let out a little bark.
Hi! You came back! Can we go outside? I want to go with you! I want to play with my friend!
Charles caught Mr. Merrick’s eye and motioned toward Bentley, raising his eyebrows. Mr. Merrick covered the end of his phone and shook his head. “Sorry, Charles,” he said. “There’s just too much going on today.”
Charles nodded to Mr. Merrick. He was disappointed. He had really wanted Bentley to come with them. He knew Buddy would have liked that, too. As soon as he turned toward the door, Charles could hear Bentley whine. Charles tried to tiptoe out, but it was too late. Bentley barked again, a little more loudly this time.
Hey, wait! Don’t go yet! Please let me out of this crate!
As Charles slipped out the door and rejoined his parents, Bentley’s yips and whines grew louder and longer. Charles could hear the puppy halfway across the campground.
During the walk over to the flagpole, Charles tried to tune out the barking and think about what to say to Logan. What was the best way to convince him to adopt Bentley?
When they joined the others waiting for the hike, Logan waved to them. Then he started to head their way. Charles felt a rush of hope. Maybe Logan had heard Bentley barking. Maybe he was coming over to tell them that he wanted to adopt him.
“I’m sorry,” Logan said when he was a few steps away, “but you can’t bring your pup on this hike. He might scare away the birds.”
Charles had to switch gears quickly. He’d been so sure Logan was going to talk to them about adopting Bentley. “But what will Buddy do?” he asked after a moment. “If we’re all on the hike?”
“I’ll take him,” Dad said. “It’s Mom who has really been looking forward to the birdwatching.”
Another ranger who had been standing close by spoke up. “I can take you and your dog on a different hike,” the older man offered. He pointed past the creek. “Those hills have a good trail. Lots of fall color. And there’s a waterfall at the top of the path.”
“Thanks,” Dad said. He took one last long gulp of coffee from his to-go mug and stuck it back into Mom’s backpack pocket. “That sounds great. Charles, you want to come with Buddy and me?”
Charles looked from Mom to Dad. Yes, he wanted to go with Dad and Buddy. The hike yesterday with Buddy — and Bentley — had been so much fun. But he also wanted to go with Mom. Mom had been looking forward to the bird hike all weekend, and she’d probably like to have him along. Plus, Charles really wanted to talk to Logan about Bentley. He wasn’t sure if he would get another chance. “I’ll go with Mom,” Charles said.
Mom smiled and gave one of his shoulders a squeeze. “Great. I’ll let you borrow my binoculars,” she said.
“Thanks, Bruce,” Logan said to the other ranger.
“Sure thing,” Bruce replied, giving him a friendly nod. “I love the Boulder Lane Trail this time of year.”
“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “Just take it easy. There’s been a lot of rain.”
“Got it,” Bruce said, nodding again.
Charles gave Buddy a quick pat, said good-bye to Dad, and headed off with Mom and the rest of the group. “We’ll meet back here at the flagpole,” Dad called out. Charles gave a thumbs-up and waved.
Birdwatching was a lot harder than Charles had thought it would be, even though Logan was full of tips. He said they should be silent and stay alert. It was a lot like being a spy, except without the black clothes and cool gadgets.
Mom seemed to catch on quickly. When Logan pointed to something in a tree, she would raise the binoculars to her eyes. “Aw,” she’d say, or “So pretty.” Then she’d pass the binoculars to Charles. He would lift them to his eyes and squint through the eyepieces just in time to catch the flutter of wings as the bird flew away. Still, he was happy to be with Mom.
He learned a lot about raptors. Logan told them that “raptor” came from a word that meant “to grab or seize,” which was how raptors caught their prey. Hawks, falcons, vultures, and owls were all raptors, with fearsome hooked beaks and sharp talons on their feet, which made them good hunters. According to Logan, they ate everything: other birds, frogs and snakes, and small mammals like mice. Logan didn’t mention puppies, and Charles didn’t ask. He didn’t even want to think about a raptor scooping up Buddy.
After they had hiked for about half an hour, the group reached a small clearing. “Let’s stop here for a bit and you can look for nests,” Logan suggested. “Most birds are done with raising their young by this time of year, but it’s a great time to find empty nests in trees and shrubs.”
Charles knew this was his chance to talk to the ranger. “I’m going to ask Logan about Bentley,” he said to Mom.
Mom lowered the binoculars from her eyes. “You sure are determined,” she said. “Remember, we’re not exactly fostering that puppy. He’s not our responsibility.”
“I know,” said Charles. “But Bentley needs a good home. I want to help him.”
“I know you do,” Mom said. She smiled at him and gave him a little shove toward Logan. “Go ahead.”
Charles approached Logan, who was sitting on a log, looking up at the sky.
“Hey,” Charles said.
“Hey,” Logan replied. He patted a mossy spot on the log next to him.
Charles sat down. He tried to think of a clever way to bring up the topic. He couldn’t, so he decided to just dive straight in. “So, you know the puppy that someone left here? At Misty Valley?”
“Sure,” Logan said. “You m
ean Bentley, right? The pup who came along on our hike yesterday?”
“Uh-huh,” Charles answered, staring down at his hands. They were a little red from the cold. “Well, I’m trying to find Bentley a good forever home so he doesn’t have to stay in a crate in the welcome center all day.” He looked up at Logan’s face. Logan’s beard was dark brown, and his blue eyes were kind. “You were really good with him yesterday, and I know he’d love to go with you on hikes and stuff.”
“Wow, it’s so nice of you to think of me. I love dogs and I think Bentley is great,” Logan said. “But I have a winter job in the mountains. It keeps me busy all day. I wouldn’t have enough time at home to take good care of a puppy.”
“Oh,” Charles said. “Okay.” Now what? He had really been hoping that Logan would say yes. This was strike two, after Shawna had said no. He didn’t have much time to find someone else.
“Bentley’s such a good dog. I’m sure he’ll find a great home with someone, or lots of people, who will love him,” Logan said. He sat there quietly with Charles for a moment longer. Then he patted him on the knee and stood up. “I gotta get these folks moving again. I really want them to see a hawk. Maybe a sharp-shinned hawk. They’re migrating from Canada about now.”
Charles nodded, his eyes on the ground. “My mom would love that,” he said. Just then, he didn’t care that much about sharp-shinned hawks, or any birds at all. He went back to find Mom. When she saw his face, she let go of the binoculars and let them dangle around her neck. Charles didn’t have to say a word; she knew exactly what he was feeling. She gave him a hug. When he pulled away, she kept a hand on his shoulder. They walked that way for a while.
Charles thought about what Logan had said. The ranger had a good point. Bentley did need someone around most of the time. It would be even better if he had lots of people around, lots of people to love him.