The Boy Who Ate Dog Biscuits
Page 1
Text copyright © 1989 by Betsy Sachs. Illustrations copyright © 1989 by Margot Apple. Cover illustration copyright © 2005 by Bonnie Leick. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
www.randomhouse.com/kids
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Sachs, Elizabeth-Ann.
The boy who ate dog biscuits / by Elizabeth Sachs; illustrated by Margot Apple
p. cm.
“A Stepping Stone book.”
SUMMARY: All Billy wants is a dog of his own, but he gets a baby sister instead.
eISBN: 978-0-307-83455-3
[1. Babies—Fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters—Fiction.] I. Apple, Margot, ill. II. Title. PZ7.S1186Bo 1989 [E]—dcl9 89-3905
RANDOM HOUSE and colophon are registered trademarks and a stepping stone book and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
v3.1
To Carl, my favorite brother!
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
About the Author
About the Illustrator
1
“Billy! Don’t forget your bed.”
“Mom!” Billy Getten called back to his mother. “Cleaning my room doesn’t make sense. It only gets messy again.”
Billy pulled his torn pants from under the bed. Where would he hide them? He didn’t want his mother to find out he’d ruined his new clothes.
A yellow dog biscuit fell out of the pants pocket. It was covered with lint. Bright green clay was stuck to one end.
Billy picked the fuzzy lint off and most of the clay. He took a small bite. Chicken flavor was his favorite.
Billy took another bite. Then he put the other half in his hip pocket. He wanted to save some for later.
He dug his schoolbag out of the closet and stuffed the torn pants into it. His mother would never think of looking there now that it was summer.
“Mom!” Billy called. He straightened up his bed. “I’m done.”
Billy pulled on a faded blue T-shirt and brushed back his straight brown hair. He grabbed his baseball cap from the top of the dresser. In the mirror he made sure the cap was on backward.
“Looks better,” Billy’s mother said from the doorway.
Billy shut his closet door quickly. “Can I go out now?”
“I want you to come hold Sarah while I make her bed.”
“Do I have to?”
“Of course.”
“But Howard’s waiting.”
“Tell him to come in, then.”
“And see me holding a baby!”
“I’m sure he holds his brother.”
No way, Billy thought. Howard would never.
Billy turned to the window. “Five minutes,” he shouted.
“Billy, please!” Mrs. Getten picked up a pile of clothing off the floor.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m coming.”
He followed his mother down the hall. The baby’s room was white, with little pink flowers all over the walls. In the crib his baby sister was playing with a red plastic ring.
“Sit in the rocker,” Mrs. Getten said. Then she put Sarah in Billy’s lap.
Billy looked at his sister. She had dark red hair just like his mother’s, but her face was all bunched up. “I thought babies were supposed to be cute. How come she looks like an old monkey?”
“She is cute,” Mrs. Getten said. “She looks like Grandpa Stewie.”
Billy’s mother shook out the clean pink sheets. She began to make up the crib.
“Goo, goo,” said Sarah. She snuggled against Billy’s chest.
“She doesn’t do anything,” Billy said, “but sleep and poop.”
“Ha!” said his mother. “Come feed her sometime.”
“That’s boring too.”
“Hardly.”
“I can’t do stuff with her like I could with a dog. You know I’ve been praying for a dog for a long time. Even before Sarah was born!”
Billy’s mother said, “Sometimes it takes a while for prayers to be answered. And it doesn’t always happen the way you expect.”
Billy wasn’t sure what his mother meant. All he knew was that he prayed for a dog, but a baby came instead.
Mrs. Getten put Sarah back in her crib. “Nana and Grandpa won’t find anything strange in your room when they stay over, will they?”
“No, Mom. Can I go out now?” Billy inched toward the bedroom door.
“Well, all right. Just don’t let the screen door slam.” Mrs. Getten eased the crib bars up on Sarah’s bed. “I think she’s finally going to take a nap.”
Billy didn’t really hear his mother. He was already heading for the stairs.
He crashed through the kitchen. He jumped from the top of the porch. The screen door slammed, but Billy didn’t notice. He was already down the driveway.
2
Howard Rosa sat on the stone wall at the end of Billy’s driveway. The backs of his red high tops banged against the wall. His laces were untied. “What took you so long?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing? I’ve been waiting all morning.” Howard’s mother let him spike his hair. He peered at Billy through yellow sunglasses.
Billy could see himself in the lenses. “My grandparents are coming for my birthday. I had to pick up my room.”
Howard shook his head. “Bor-ing.”
“Tell me about it. My birthday isn’t till next Sunday. And I still had to clean.” Billy sat down on the stone wall. “Did you get the thing?”
Howard pulled a small black box out of his back pocket. It was an electric garage-door opener from his house.
Howard smiled at Billy. Billy smiled back.
“Let’s go to my house.” Howard slid off the wall.
They cut through a neighbor’s side yard over to the next street. None of the other kids were around. It was very quiet.
“So what do you want to do with it?” Billy kicked a stone ahead of him as he walked.
“See how far away from the garage I can get and still make it go.”
They hid behind the bushes across the street from Howard’s house. Howard pushed the button on the black box.
At the top of the Rosas’ driveway, the garage door groaned and shook. Slowly it lifted and stayed up.
“Aw-right!” Howard punched Billy’s arm.
“Ouch.” Billy rubbed his skin. He hated when Howard did that.
“Now, listen,” said Howard. “I’m going down to the Breens’ house. You stand on the sidewalk and signal with your arms. Okay?”
“When do I get to do it?”
“It’s mine. I go first.” Howard stood up. He straightened his sunglasses.
“Boy,” Billy muttered. He watched as Howard ran down the block as far as Chrissy Breen’s house. Chrissy was going into third grade with Billy and Howard.
The garage door rattled down and up and then down again. Billy raised his arms as a signal to Howard.
Howard ran toward a mailbox that was five houses away.
The garage door rattled up and down. Billy signaled again.
When Howard was nine houses away, Howard’s little brother, Frankie, came toddling across the driveway.
He was on his way to the sandbox under the trees. The door went up. Frankie dropped his doll and stood watching.
Howard came running back. “Hey!” he shouted. “You’re supposed to signal, dummy!”
Billy pointed toward the driveway. “Do it again and watch your brother.”
Howard pressed the garage-door opener. The door went up. Frankie’s head went up.
Then the door came down. Frankie’s head did too.
Billy and Howard started laughing. They stopped when they saw Frankie step on the bottom handle of the garage door and grab the lock. They ran up the driveway.
“Ride me,” said Frankie. He gave Howard and Billy a grape-jelly smile.
“Oh, wow!” Howard whooped. “Let’s see if he can ride it. Hang on, Frankie!”
Billy wondered if it was a good idea. He didn’t say anything, though. Howard would call him a baby.
“Ride me,” Frankie giggled. “Ride, ride, ride!”
Howard danced around, shouting, “Count down! Ten, nine, eight—”
Just then the side door of his house opened. Howard’s mother came out. “What in the world is going on out here?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Howard tried to hide the electric opener behind his back.
Frankie clung to the door handle. “Ride me!” he shouted. “Up, down! Up, down!”
“Howard! Are you crazy?” Mrs. Rosa picked Frankie up.
Frankie kicked his legs against his mother’s side. His arms flapped in the air. “Up, down!” he screamed.
“All right. Let’s have it.” Mrs. Rosa took the opener. She pressed the button. The door groaned. It shook. It did not go up. “Well, that’s just dandy,” she said. “In the house, Howard Rosa. You’ll have to go home, Billy.”
“Ride, Mama!” Frankie cried. His face was all red. “Ride, Mama, ride!” he wailed as she carried him into the house.
3
“Inside, Billy.” Mr. Getten stood in the kitchen doorway. He was wearing overalls. There were little curls of wood in his dark hair.
“Do I have to?” Billy asked.
Mr. Getten frowned.
“But it’s not even lunchtime yet.”
Mr. Getten didn’t say a word. Billy got the message. He walked past his father into the cool, dark kitchen.
Billy’s mother was sitting at the kitchen table. She looked angry too. Billy knew it was going to be a terrible afternoon.
“Sit,” said his father.
Billy slid into a wooden chair. He looked from his mother to his father. No one said anything. The silence felt scary.
“How could you do such a stupid thing?” Mrs. Getten finally said.
“What?” Billy tried to play dumb.
“You know what.” Mr. Getten’s chair scraped on the floor as he pulled closer to the table.
“Mrs. Rosa just called,” his mother said. “So we know what you were up to.”
“Oh.” Billy felt for the dog biscuit in his pocket. He fingered it.
“This is serious,” Mrs. Getten said. “Frankie could have been hurt.”
“It was his idea.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mr. Getten.
“We didn’t tell him to get on. He just did.”
“Frankie’s a baby,” Mr. Getten said. “He doesn’t know any better.”
Billy snapped the biscuit in half inside his pocket.
“Suppose Frankie had been hurt.” His mother shook her head. “It was very irresponsible of you two.”
Billy didn’t know what “irresponsible” meant. It didn’t sound like a fun word.
He leaned under the table, pretending to tie a shoelace. He popped the piece of biscuit into his mouth.
“Sit up, Billy,” Mrs. Getten snapped. “And stop fooling around.”
Billy held the dry biscuit under his tongue.
“The door’s broken,” said Mrs. Getten. “You’ll have to help pay for fixing it.”
“What!” Billy coughed.
“I think you should give your allowance to Mrs. Rosa,” said Mr. Getten.
“My allowance!” Billy choked as he swallowed.
“You have to learn responsibility, young man!”
“Boy, I get punished and it wasn’t even my idea.”
“Howard told his mother it was.”
“That rat!”
“Either way. You should have told Howard no.”
“Da-ad! He’d think I was a big baby.”
“Sometimes you have to be different from your friends.”
Billy put his elbows on the table, “But I need my allowance to buy dog biscuits.”
“You shouldn’t be eating those things anyway.”
Billy put his head on his arm. “Sarah’s doctor even said they’re okay.”
“He also said not too many.” Mrs. Getten frowned. “They’re meant for dogs. Not people.”
“But how can I teach Dr. Mike’s dogs any tricks if I don’t have biscuits?”
“You should have thought of that first,” his father said.
“Are you sure Dr. Mike doesn’t mind you playing over there?” asked Mrs. Getten.
“It’s okay. I checked,” Billy said. “Honest.”
“You’d better shape up, young man.”
Billy looked from one parent to the other. “If you’d just get me a dog for my birthday, I’d be real good.”
Mrs. Getten shook her head. “I think you should be good first.”
“You don’t seem like you’re ready for a dog, son.”
“Not ready? That’s all I ever wanted!”
His mother stood.
His father said, “If you’d help around here, maybe we’d consider a dog. But not with the kind of stunt you pulled this morning.”
Billy didn’t dare say what he was thinking. They really should have gotten a dog instead of a baby. What good was a baby? She couldn’t even run after a stick.
4
Billy used the shortcut through the empty lot to the next street. He stood at the corner and waited for the light to change.
How could he teach Dr. Mike’s dogs tricks without dog biscuits? Dr. Mike probably wouldn’t want him to come over without them.
The traffic on the street went by slowly. Finally it was safe for him to cross.
By the time he turned the next corner, Billy could hear yelping and barking out in the yard. The sounds made him feel better.
He cut across the grass and ran the rest of the way up to the blue house. It had a fence all the way around the backyard.
The sign on the lawn said: DR. MICHAELS, VETERINARIAN. Billy sounded the word out. “Vet-er-i-nar-i-an.” He liked the word. It was a pretty word, and a big one. To Billy it meant someone who liked to take care of dogs as much as he did.
Billy went through the metal gate. It clanged shut. Dogs of all sizes and shapes ran over to him.
“Hi, girl.” A fat tan puppy licked Billy’s hand. Her tongue was pink and warm.
“Hey, fella. Want your belly rubbed?” Billy scratched a spotted mutt’s stomach.
A small brown poodle danced around Billy’s feet. He nipped playfully at Billy’s laces. “What are you doing, Killer?” He patted the poodle’s head.
“Hel-lo, Billy,” a voice called through an open door.
“Hi, Dr. Mike.”
Dr. Mike came into the yard. She was short and blond and wore a blue lab coat. “Am I ever glad to see you,” she said. “A policeman just brought in another stray dog.”
Billy followed her into the animal hospital. They walked down a long hall lined with big green cages. There was a dog in every one.
The room at the end of the hall had more cages. Some were empty, and others had kittens or puppies in them.
Dr. Mike opened a cage. She lifted out a big gray cat. “Want to hold this guy?”
“Sure.” Billy took the cat in his arms. “Hi there, fella.”
The cat whined and squirmed. Billy rubbed his face in the cat’s thick gray hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered.
“He’s just a little nervous.” Dr. Mike moved toward the operating room.
Billy followed. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He needs a tooth taken out.” Dr. Mike sprayed the stainless-steel table with cleaner. Then she wiped it with a paper towel. “Okay, you can put him down.”
Billy petted the cat. Dr. Mike got ready to give him a shot. “Billy,” she said, “grab the scruff of his neck. Shake his head gently. That’ll distract him.”
Billy liked helping Dr. Mike. He always learned a lot about animals.
He watched her give the shot. “Can I stay?” he asked.
Dr. Mike smiled. “No. I really need you to run the dogs out in the back field.”
Billy wanted to tell Dr. Mike about the dog biscuits, but he didn’t. He could see she was busy. “Okay, I’ll be outside.”
“I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Billy hurried down the hall. The best part of summer was being at Dr. Mike’s. Everyone in town knew she cared about animals. The police and firemen brought her stray dogs and cats. She always tried to find out who owned the animals or to find them new owners. Often she kept the ones nobody would adopt.
Today Billy counted six stray dogs out in the back. He petted the big black mutt who was blind. Lola had been at Dr. Mike’s the longest. She sniffed his hand. Then she licked it.
Billy dropped on the grass and rolled onto his back. The mutt with no tail jumped on Billy’s stomach and washed his face with a long, warm tongue. “Quit it!” Billy laughed. The dog kept right on licking.
After that Billy wrestled a terrier. When the dog was tired, she played dead. “Good doggie,” Billy said. “You remembered your trick from last time.” He slipped her a piece of his only biscuit.
Next Billy played fetch with the two brown puppies. He loved to fool them by pretending to throw the stick across the yard. They would go bounding over the field trying to find it. Then they would give up and come running back.
“Got you.” Billy pretended to throw the stick again. They went chasing off across the grass.
When Billy saw Dr. Mike standing in the doorway, he crossed the field. He always did exactly what she said. Billy wanted to keep coming back.