Sparky

by Ellen Miles

  For Jennifer and Choṭi Jyotī, with thanks for the inspiration!

  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  PUPPY TIPS

  TEASER

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  OTHER STORIES BY ELLEN MILES

  COPYRIGHT

  “All set for your nap, Petey?” Lizzie said as she tucked the soft blanket around her furry friend. She leaned down to kiss him on the nose, and Petey kissed her back, then snuffled happily as he flapped his long ears at her.

  Petey was an older Basset hound mix with a gray muzzle, droopy eyes, and silky, floppy ears that hung so low Lizzie sometimes worried he would trip on them. He was one of her favorite dogs at Caring Paws, the animal shelter where she volunteered every Saturday. Petey was so grateful for everything she offered him: a walk outdoors, a biscuit, a soft red fleece blanket she’d made especially for his bed. He’d look up at her with his big, sad hound eyes and wrinkled brow, tilting his head sideways, as if he were saying, “You would do that for little old me?”

  Lizzie laughed and bent to give him a hug. Petey loved hugs, and he loved being tucked into his bed for a nap. Lizzie wished someone would come along who would think Petey would make the perfect pet—but so far, nobody had.

  “It’s hard to find homes for the older dogs,” Ms. Dobbins always said. Ms. Dobbins was the director of Caring Paws. “Face it, nothing is as cute as a puppy. And older dogs can be expensive, since many of them need to go to the vet more often.”

  Lizzie knew Ms. Dobbins spoke from experience. “But if somebody just got to know you, Petey,” Lizzie said to Petey now, looking into his big brown eyes. “They’d know you are the sweetest, most patient, most gentle dog in the world. You’d be a perfect dog to have before they get a puppy, since a dog like you is the best teacher a puppy can have.”

  “I know, right?”

  Lizzie jumped, surprised by the voice. She hadn’t heard any footsteps. But standing right in front of Petey’s kennel, with her hand gripping the wire mesh fencing, was a brown-haired girl with a dimply smile and sparkly brown eyes. Lizzie squinted up at her. She thought they looked about the same age, but Lizzie had never seen her at school. “Petey,” the girl said nodding. “He’s, like, the best dog ever. I can’t believe nobody’s adopted him.”

  Who was this girl? And how did she know Petey? Lizzie knew all the regular staff because she spent so much time volunteering. She was curious, but how could she find out more? Would it be rude to just burst out with, “Who are you, anyway?”

  Ms. Dobbins walked up just in time. “Oh, great, you two have met,” she said. “I know you’re going to get along. You have so much in common.” She smiled at Lizzie. “Harper has been coming to volunteer three mornings a week for the last month or so,” she told her.

  Lizzie’s eyebrows shot up. That was a lot of volunteering. How did she have so much time, this Harper person?

  “I’m homeschooled,” Harper said, as if to answer the question Lizzie had not asked out loud. “I get most of my schoolwork done really early in the morning. Then my mom and I come here, and afterward we go back home and I finish up the rest of my lessons.”

  “She’s been a big help,” said Ms. Dobbins. “Harper knows so much about dogs and how to care for them.”

  Lizzie tried to look happy about that, but she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. She was the one who knew the most about dogs. She was the one who Ms. Dobbins called her “superstar volunteer.” She was the responsible one, the only volunteer under fourteen who was allowed to walk the shelter dogs on her own. Lizzie took a breath. “Cool,” she said.

  Ms. Dobbins laughed. “Oh, but of course Harper still has plenty to learn,” she said. She turned to Harper. “Lizzie is one of our longest-term volunteers. She’s taught me things I didn’t know about dogs. Plus, she’s great with all the animals and very responsible. Her family fosters puppies, so I know I can trust her with just about any dog.”

  Lizzie felt better for a second. Until Harper said, “Oh, so she’s the other girl who’s allowed to walk the dogs?”

  Lizzie blinked, squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again wide. “Wait, what?” she asked.

  Ms. Dobbins smiled and nodded. “That’s right,” she said. “Harper has proved herself to me, just like you did, Lizzie. Now she’s a dog walker, too. I think you’ll be glad for the help. Harper’s also going to start coming in on Saturdays, just like you.”

  Lizzie smiled, but it was only with her mouth. She wasn’t really all that excited to hear that this Harper person was going to be there at the same time she was. Three mornings a week—wasn’t that enough? Now she had to horn in on Lizzie’s time, too?

  “I heard there are some different routines on Saturdays,” Harper said. “Maybe you can help me learn?” She smiled at Lizzie. Her smile wasn’t fake, like Lizzie’s had been. Lizzie could tell by the way Harper’s eyes crinkled up and her dimples deepened.

  “Sure,” said Lizzie, shrugging. What else could she say? She gave Petey one more pat and wiped her hands on the towel hanging by his door. “Saturday’s a day when we can get a lot of visitors, so we like to make sure everything—including the dogs—looks good. That means we do a lot of cleaning.” Lizzie glanced at Ms. Dobbins, who nodded approvingly, then winked at Lizzie and headed off toward her office. Lizzie was hoping that Harper would be scared off by the idea of cleaning, but she followed Lizzie down the hall, chatting.

  “I’m a pretty good sweeper,” said Harper. “That’s one of my chores at home. And I actually love mopping, too, believe it or not.”

  Lizzie led Harper to the utility closet and showed her where all the cleaning supplies were kept. “I usually start with brushing the dogs,” Lizzie said. “That way they’re all shiny and ready to meet the public. Then we do the sweeping and mopping afterward, so we clean up all the hair they shed.”

  “I’m used to that,” said Harper. “We have two Samoyeds.”

  Lizzie couldn’t help laughing. She knew that the fluffy white dogs were legendary shedders. She handed Harper a brush and took one for herself. “You can start at this end, with Elmo, and I’ll start at the other.”

  “Aw, I love Elmo!” said Harper.

  That made Lizzie like Harper a little more. Elmo, a terrier-Chihuahua mix, wasn’t the cutest or the smartest little dog. He had a funny long tooth that stuck out and his fur was scruffy and he smelled not so great, but he had such a likable personality. “I know. There’s just something about him,” Lizzie said.

  She walked Harper to Elmo’s kennel, and they laughed when they saw that he was already standing with his front paws against the door. His tiny, scruffy tail was wagging hard. “He must have heard us talking about him,” said Lizzie, bending down to scratch him through the wire cage.

  “So your family fosters puppies? I’m so jelly,” said Harper.

  Lizzie nodded. Good. She sort of liked that Harper was jealous. “We’ve fostered so many! My younger brother, Charles, helps a lot, and my youngest brother, the Bean, likes to play with them. We even got to keep one, the best puppy ever. His name’s Buddy, and we ended up adopting him.”

  Then Lizzie straightened up, clearing her throat. “Anyway, it looks like Elmo could really use a brushing. I guess that’s not something you ever get around to when you come in on weekdays.”

  Harper blinked. “Well,” she began, but just then, through the kennel’s open windows, Lizzie heard a car zoom into the parking lot and skid to a stop. Two car doors s
lammed, one right after the other. Footsteps pounded up the outside stairs, and the door to the reception area flew open.

  Lizzie looked at Harper, her heart beating fast. “Something’s going on,” she said. “An emergency.”

  They threw down their brushes and ran for the door.

  “What’s going on?” asked Lizzie as she and Harper burst through the door into the reception area. The small room, usually peaceful, was full of movement and noise. “Hold on, Lizzie.” Ms. Dobbins held up a hand. “We’ve got a situation here.”

  Something in Ms. Dobbins’s tone made Lizzie freeze in place. The shelter director turned back to a scruffy man and a woman huddled near the front desk, holding something wrapped in a dark green blanket. “When did you find him?” she asked. “Where?” She reached out her arms.

  Harper, who had frozen mid-step next to Lizzie, stood on her tiptoes to try to get a look over Ms. Dobbins’s shoulder. Lizzie took a few quiet steps forward. She craned her neck. What was wrapped in the blanket?

  “It’s a puppy,” said the bearded man. His hair was mussed and he had a smudge of dirt on his cheek. “Just a little guy.” He choked up and stopped talking.

  The woman put her arm around him. “Derek, it’s okay. They’re going to help him here.”

  “I hope we can,” said Ms. Dobbins. “What kind of help does he need?” Now she was holding the blanket. Lizzie tiptoed three steps closer, but she still couldn’t see.

  “His leg, it’s his leg,” said the woman. “Something’s just not right with it.” Tears were running down her cheeks. “And he’s so skinny and weak. He can hardly move.”

  “We think he must have been abandoned!” said the man. “Maybe because of his leg. We were out for a walk, and we heard this whimpering sound, and we went to look under a bush, and there he was, just lying there all alone. He can barely move.”

  Ms. Dobbins was nodding. “But he let you pick him up?” she asked.

  “That’s the funny thing,” said the woman. “He made his way over to me as soon I knelt down and called to him. And he settled in my lap on the way over here. He’s a total cuddlebug.” She sniffed and tears started to roll down her face again. “How could he ever trust humans after somebody left him like that?”

  “You did the right thing,” said Ms. Dobbins softly, patting the woman’s shoulder. Then she peeled back the blanket to take a look. Lizzie saw a pointy little nose. She saw two bright, inquisitive eyes. And she saw two triangular ears, standing straight at attention as the puppy stared straight back at her. The puppy did not look nearly as upset as the people did. He looked curious. His ears swiveled around and his nose twitched as he tried to figure out his new surroundings.

  Whoa, what just happened? One minute I was in my special hidey-hole, and the next minute—here I am! I mean, where am I?

  “If he’s badly injured, we can’t help him here,” said Ms. Dobbins. “We don’t have a vet on our staff.” She was still peeling the blanket away. “But one way or another, he’s going to have to see a vet. He’s starved and probably dehydrated. Lizzie, call Dr. Gibson’s office,” Ms. Dobbins said. “Tell them we’re coming right over with an injured puppy.”

  Lizzie didn’t move. She couldn’t. She felt frozen in place, stuck in her spot, unable to think about what to do next. She’d always wondered how well she would do in an emergency, and now she was finding out.

  “Um, Lizzie, I can take care of the call. But we’re going to need some more blankets,” said Harper, giving Lizzie a little push toward the storeroom. “You know where they are, right?”

  Lizzie nodded. She did know. She didn’t like being bossed around by Harper, but it seemed like more blankets would be a good idea. Not that she even knew what was happening, but from the look on Ms. Dobbins’s face, it was serious.

  As she turned to go, she saw Harper slip behind the counter and pick up the telephone receiver. Harper leaned down to look at the phone list taped to the counter, then dialed quickly. By the time Lizzie came back out of the storeroom with a pile of folded blankets in her arms, Harper was talking to someone at Dr. Gibson’s office. “Yes, we’re at Caring Paws,” she said. “Yes, we’re coming right over.”

  Lizzie was still annoyed with herself for freezing like that, but she couldn’t help feeling impressed by Harper’s cool head. Apparently she was very good in an emergency, or at least in this one.

  The woman reached out to put a hand on Ms. Dobbins’s arm. “You’ll help him?” she asked.

  “We’ll do our best,” said Ms. Dobbins.

  Lizzie approached her, holding out one of the blankets from the storeroom. “Good,” said Ms. Dobbins. “We’ll make him extra cozy so he doesn’t get cold. He seems okay so far, but that could change if he goes into shock. Keeping him warm will help prevent that.” She nodded at Lizzie, and Lizzie did her best to tuck her blanket around the dark green one already swaddling the pup.

  “We’ll get your blanket back to you as soon as we can,” Ms. Dobbins told the couple.

  “No need!” the man said, holding up his hands. “It’s just an old army blanket I had in the trunk. It’s full of holes. Just—take care of the puppy, okay?”

  He peered down at the tiny pup. “Hang in there, little dude,” he said.

  “Lizzie, take those other blankets out to my car and make a nice bed for him, on the backseat.” Ms. Dobbins gestured toward the front door with her chin. “You and Harper come with me. You can sit on either side of him so he doesn’t budge. Once we’re on our way, you can call your parents and let them know you’re with me.”

  She turned to nod at the couple. “You did the right thing to bring him in,” she said. “Thanks for caring about animals.”

  The woman nodded and sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Can we call to find out what happened?” she asked. The man put his arm around her and held her close.

  “Of course you can,” said Ms. Dobbins. “I hope you will.”

  Lizzie and Harper ran out to the parking lot, to Ms. Dobbins’s small red car. Harper opened one back door and Lizzie opened the other. Then they arranged the blankets into a cozy nest for the puppy.

  Their eyes met across the seat. “I hope he’s going to be okay,” Lizzie whispered.

  “I hope so, too,” Harper whispered back.

  Lizzie knew that it was only a few miles between the animal shelter and Dr. Gibson’s office, but the drive seemed to take forever. While she used Ms. Dobbins’s phone to call her mom, she kept one hand on top of the blanket covering the puppy. She could feel him shivering. “He’s so young to be on his own,” she said when she’d finished her call and passed the phone to Harper.

  Harper nodded. “I’m wondering if his mom was also a stray,” she said.

  “I have a feeling she was,” said Ms. Dobbins from the front seat. “This puppy looks like he’s been living rough.”

  Lizzie felt like saying that she’d had the same thought, but did it really matter right now? “I wonder if he’s been weaned,” she said instead. “If he was part of a stray litter maybe he and his siblings were still living on their mom’s milk.”

  “Good point,” said Ms. Dobbins. “He’ll need to be bottle-fed if that’s the case.”

  “I’ve never done that,” said Harper. “But I’d like to learn how.”

  “We did it with a puppy that my family fostered. Bella,” said Lizzie, remembering the tiny cocker spaniel puppy. “It’s a lot of work.”

  “I’d like to help,” said Harper.

  “It’ll all depend on what Dr. Gibson says after she’s examined the patient,” said Ms. Dobbins. “Let’s just wait and see what she thinks.”

  Lizzie sat back, still holding her hand steady against the puppy’s tiny, shivering body. “We’ll take care of you, no matter what,” she whispered. She didn’t care if Harper thought she was weird for talking to a puppy.

  “Definitely,” Harper told the puppy. “We promise.”

  Lizzie gave her a small smile.

  Ms. Dobbins pulle
d up in front of the vet’s office a few minutes later. “Stay put, you two,” she said as she got out of the car. She came around to Lizzie’s side and opened the door. “Okay, now hand him to me, gently.”

  Lizzie scooped up the mound of blankets, making sure to support the puppy wrapped inside. He hardly weighed a thing. She handed the bundle to Ms. Dobbins, then unbuckled her seat belt, got out, and ran to open the door to the vet’s office.

  “That was quick,” said Dr. Gibson, meeting them at the reception desk. She peeled off a pair of light blue rubber gloves. “Perfect timing. I just finished with another patient. Come on back and we’ll see what we’ve got here.” She led the way to the exam room. Ms. Dobbins took a seat, the blanket bundle on her lap, and Lizzie and Harper stood on either side of her.

  Dr. Gibson went to the sink and washed her hands. “So, tell me what you’ve brought me,” she said over her shoulder.

  “It’s a very young pup with an injured leg,” said Ms. Dobbins. “He might be in shock, since he probably hasn’t eaten or drunk anything for a while.”

  Dr. Gibson put on a new pair of gloves and then took the blanket bundle from Ms. Dobbins. Slowly and carefully, she set it on her high, stainless-steel exam table, and unwrapped it all the way.

  “Ohhhh,” Lizzie and Harper both said at the same time.

  The puppy was adorable, brown with white markings. Lizzie thought he looked like some kind of Chihuahua mix, with his delicate, tiny feet and big brown eyes. He held his little tail between his legs as he stood shivering. He stared up at Dr. Gibson with bright eyes and cocked his head sideways. His triangular ears stood at attention.

  Another new place! I should be scared, but somehow I’m not. I think these people want to help me.

  Dr. Gibson smiled down at him. “Hey, there,” she said. “I don’t know your name, but I’m going to call you Sparky, ’cause I can tell you’re one tough and feisty little dude. You’ve been through some hard times, haven’t you?” She touched him gently all over, starting at his shoulders, then his head, his front legs, then carefully along his ribs and spine. Finally, she touched his back legs. Lizzie watched closely and saw how the pup flinched a bit when she touched his back right leg.