by Kristen Otte
The squirrel pauses in the corner of the fence. Then he turns and runs back the way he came.
What is he doing?
Peach chases after the squirrel again, and I follow. But I am confused. I thought he was trying to run away, but that clearly isn’t the case. When the squirrel reaches the tree on the other side of the fence, he runs straight up the tree and out of Peach’s leaping reach.
We catch our breath for a few minutes. Peach and I look at each other, trying to think of the next move. Once again, the squirrel beats us to the punch. He runs down the tree, back on the fence, on the same path. Peach follows again, but I stay still this time. He is up to something.
The squirrel runs along the fence to the corner. There, he turns the other way and jumps to our back neighbor’s fence and climbs it. Soon he is squeaking above our heads again.
Tricky squirrels.
The squirrel isn’t running away from us. He is showing us there is no way we can catch him. And every time he squeaks, he is laughing at us. I look at Peach. She is still barking. I bark to get her attention. I tell her to let him go—at least for now.
7
The Cat Whisperer
“Do you want to go see Tucker and Whitney?” Ben asks.
It is the day after the squirrel incident. I tilt my head. I love going to see Tucker and Whitney. Actually, I love going to their house. I think I am invisible to Tucker and Whitney. They ignore me while I run around and play. But with Jack Jack the cat, adults and kids everywhere, a big fenced yard, and long hallways for playing, it’s always an adventure at their house.
“Do you want to see Tucker and Whitney?” Ben says. I tilt my head the opposite direction.
Why is he asking me the same question twice?
I sneeze at him, run to the door, and wait for the family to get ready. Peach waits on the couch. She isn’t excited because she doesn’t understand. We haven’t visited Tucker and Whitney since Peach came home. Eventually all six of us load up into the car and start the journey to Tucker and Whitney’s house.
When we arrive, they are waiting by the front door. As usual, they greet Hannah, Nate, Ben, and Lucy, but ignore me. I think they are jealous of my curly tail. Peach tries to bring both dogs a toy, but they also ignore her.
At least I am not the only dog they ignore.
I greet Nate’s dad and mom with a wagging tail and licks to the hands. Soon Peach and I are playing in the long hallway with Lucy and Ben. Tucker and Whitney jump into our game of fetch. We have a great day of fun.
When the darkness comes, I follow Lucy upstairs for bed. Midway up the stairs, Jack Jack’s smell tickles my nose. I burst up the stairs and find the black fluff of cat sitting on the opposite end of the room. I run straight to him, eager to play. When I am a pug length away, I stop.
Jack Jack is hissing and turning into a puffball. I start sneezing. The puffier he gets, the more I start sneezing. I take a step toward him, risking a swat in the face. He hisses louder, and I start barking.
Why won’t he play with me?
“Zelda,” I hear someone yell, and footsteps approach from the stairs. Hannah is walking toward us. Jack Jack uses Hannah as a distraction and lunges for me. I leap at him, trying to grab a piece of his long, black, curly tail. My maneuver catches Jack Jack off guard; his tail smacks me in the face. I try to grab it with my mouth, but the tail is gone before I can do anything. Jack Jack darts in the direction of the gated room, but he freezes halfway to his destination. I follow his gaze to see Peach at the top of the steps. She is slowly walking toward Jack. We have him cornered.
“Zelda, leave it,” Hannah says. She isn’t happy with me, but I can’t resist messing with, I mean, playing with Jack Jack. Peach and I remain motionless with our eyes on him. Suddenly he bolts between us and down the stairs. We give chase and crash into each other, tumbling down the steps after Jack. When we make it to the bottom, he is gone–disappeared into thin air.
Peach and I follow his scent to a small hole in a door. Peach looks at me and nudges me toward the hole. She can’t fit in the hole, but I might be able to get through. I poke my head in it and see Jack Jack waiting for me at the bottom of another set of stairs. I know this is my opportunity. I have no idea what to do when I get to Jack Jack or even what I want to do. I just know I need to get to him.
I back out of the hole, get a little speed, and jump through it. It doesn’t feel good as I go through, but somehow I make it. I run down the stairs toward Jack Jack. This time I don’t stop when I get close. I can’t control myself. Jack Jack wants no part of me. He runs the opposite direction in the basement. I chase him, but he quickly leaps onto a table in the middle of the room. I have no way up to the table; I sit on the ground looking at him.
He uses my momentary pause to leap off the table and race up the stairs. I follow, but it’s too late. He is gone through the hole in the door.
Hissssss. Rufff. Rufff. Hissssss. Rufff.
Peach!
I sprint again and jump through the hole, sucking in my belly as I jump. When I cross into the room, I don’t see Peach or Jack. I walk into the living room—all I see is my family, but no animals. I double back and walk upstairs, following the scent of Jack and Peach into the bedroom. Peach and Jack are lying on the bed next to each other.
What happened?
I jump onto the bed. Nobody moves. Peach nods. I walk over to Jack Jack. I start sneezing again, but he doesn’t budge. I am unsure what to do next. Since I am a pug, I figure a nap is as good of an idea as any other. I lie down next to Peach and Jack Jack. Jack Jack moves his head so it’s resting on my body. I smile as my eyes grow heavy.
The rest of the trip is a barrel of fun between Peach, Jack Jack, and me. We play hide-and-seek throughout the house. I enjoy every minute, but wonder through it all what happened between Peach and Jack Jack. I don’t think I will ever know.
8
The Chase
When we return home from Tucker and Whitney’s house, I see more grass peeking through the snow. Two or three dark sleeps after our trip, we walk outside to a beautiful day. The sun is shining, keeping it warm so my paws won’t get cold, but it’s not too hot either. It’s perfect pug-walking weather, and I am ready to explore the neighborhood.
The family is gone for the day, except for Hannah. I wait by the front door most of the day, hoping she will take me for a walk. She ignores me, or maybe she doesn’t get the hint. Either way, I wait and hope my big pug eyes will give her the right idea.
Eventually I fall asleep, and I wake up to the door being opened. I jump up and out of the way as the door flies toward me. Ben and Lucy skip into the house. Peach jumps off the couch to greet them.
“Hi, Mom,” Lucy says.
“How was your day?” Hannah asks.
“Boring,” Ben says as he receives four licks to the face from Peach.
“It was good,” Lucy says. Lucy takes off her coat and bends over to take off her shoes.
I don’t want her to take off her shoes!
I run over and grab hold of her shoestrings.
“Hi, Zelda,” Lucy says, petting my head. I let the strings fall and lick her face.
“Do you want to go for a walk, Zelda?” Lucy asks. I jump, sneeze, and lick her face simultaneously. I don’t think I could do that ever again.
“Okay. Let’s ask Mom,” she says. “Hey, Mom, can we take the dogs for a walk? Zelda told me she wants to go.”
“Zelda told you that?” Ben asks. “I didn’t know dogs could talk.”
“Zelda talks to me,” Lucy says.
“Hey, Ben, be nice to your sister,” Hannah replies. “And yes, why don’t all of us take the dogs for a walk?”
“Yay!” Lucy shouts.
Ben grabs the harnesses and snatches me as I try to circle him. When everyone is harnessed and ready to go, Ben hands my leash to Hannah. He opens the door, and my excitement propels me forward at lightning speed. In an instant, I jerk backward.
Stupid leash.
/> I lead the way with Hannah, Ben, Peach, and Lucy behind me. The sidewalks are clear except for some water. The white stuff still covers most of the grass, but it’s only halfway up my paws. I head for the first great spot, the big tree a few houses down.
“Zelda, slow down,” I hear Hannah yell.
I can’t slow down! There are so many places to investigate!
I stop at the big tree. Peach joins me, and we sniff together. I smell dog and squirrel mostly.
“Mom, can I walk Peach?” Lucy asks.
“I don’t know, Peach is pretty strong,” Hannah says.
“Lucy will be fine. Peach doesn’t pull like Zelda,” Ben says.
“Please,” Lucy says.
“Okay. Here you go. Just hang on tight,” Hannah says.
I move on down the street, stopping when my nose tells me. We reach the corner quickly. Peach leads the way forward with Lucy. I trail behind for a minute to check out the light post.
Rufff Rufff!
“Peach, no!” Lucy shouts.
I look up and see Peach at a full sprint. She is chasing a squirrel through a yard, her leash flailing on the ground behind her. I bark; she looks like she is having so much fun.
“Peach,” Ben and Hannah yell simultaneously.
“Go get Peach, Ben. I have Zelda,” Hannah says. Ben sprints forward, trying to catch Peach. Peach has left the yard and rounded the corner back toward home. I can’t see the squirrel anywhere; I have no idea where it went.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I lost Peach,” Lucy says. Her eyes begin to well up with water.
“It’s okay, Lucy, let’s go help your brother,” Hannah says. “C’mon, Zelda, let’s go.” We jog in the direction of Ben. I hear Ben yelling for Peach, but I can’t see her anywhere. I know Peach wouldn’t run away, but she doesn’t know the neighborhood yet.
What if she gets lost?
Ben is only a few houses down from us. We are gaining ground on him. He is still yelling for Peach. I see her. She is out of his reach, but not much farther ahead.
“Mom, why don’t you try to get her. Peach isn’t listening to me. I can take Zelda,” he says.
“Okay.” Hannah hands Ben my leash and takes some quick steps forward. I hear Lucy sniffling behind us.
“Don’t worry about it, Lucy. Peach is fine, we will catch up to her,” Ben says. She doesn’t say anything.
“Peach, come here,” Hannah says. When Peach is within Hannah’s grasp, Peach runs a little bit farther. I watch this scene repeated over and over. I start to smile. Peach isn’t going anywhere. She just doesn’t want to be on the leash again.
We keep walking forward, and before we know it, we are only a few houses down from ours. I keep walking, urging Ben forward. Maybe if we get ahead, Peach will know to go home.
“Good girl,” Hannah says. Peach is standing on the steps of our front door, waiting to be let inside. Hannah walks behind her and lets Peach in. We walk through the doors. Lucy runs straight for Peach and hugs her.
“I’m sorry I let you go,” Lucy says.
“Sorry, Mom, I didn’t think Peach would go after a squirrel like Zelda does,” Ben says, taking off my harness.
Why wouldn’t Peach chase after a squirrel? She’s a dog!
“It’s okay, Ben,” Hannah says. “It all worked out this time. And now we know Lucy can’t walk Peach.”
9
The Race Track
After the brief respite from the cold and snow, both return with a vengeance. Peach and I return to our playdays inside. We stay out of the frigid tundra of a backyard and look for adventures inside the house. It’s not too exciting until Ben begins assembling something in the living room.
Peach and I watch from the couch as he dumps the contents of a box on the living room floor. A bunch of parts and pieces scatter. I get up to investigate. They come in a few different shapes and sizes. When Ben turns his back, I grab one of the pieces and run into the corner and away from his gaze. I smell the piece first, but I don’t smell anything I recognize. I slowly put it in my mouth. It doesn’t have a good taste, but it feels a little like a Nylabone on my teeth. Although it’s much harder to chew. I spit it out and walk back to Ben.
I watch Ben take the pieces and smash them together. Somehow they stick to make a bigger piece. He repeats this process over and over. I am entranced by it; I can’t look away.
“Peach, what do you have?” Ben asks. I see Peach in the corner, and I hear her teeth grinding. Peach ignores Ben and keeps chewing.
I don’t think Peach should be chewing on that.
“Peach,” Ben says again. He walks to Peach and grabs the piece from her mouth. Peach’s big eyes follow him back to his spot on the floor. He continues smashing the pieces together. After a few more minutes watching Ben, my eyes start to droop. I lay my head on the floor.
Vrrooooom.
I am jerked awake from my slumber. I turn my head to the noise. It’s coming from Ben, no wait, from the smashed pieces. But now the pieces are one giant, dark strip curving over the floor. Peach is staring at the strip like it’s a squirrel.
Wait a second, something is moving.
Peach leaps toward the black strip.
Is it a tiny squirrel?
I get closer, trying to figure out what is moving. Peach keeps leaping, and Ben is laughing at her.
I see it.
It looks like a miniature car. Whatever it is, I want to get it before Peach does. I set up camp opposite her and try to catch the car with my paw.
It’s faster than I thought!
I better use my mouth. I chase the car around and try to nab it with my mouth. I feel the coldness and hardness of the car on my teeth for an instant before I lose it.
The car turns so quickly!
I wait and watch the car this time. I let it circle toward Peach before I go for it. Peach has a different idea, and we collide heads when we both reach for it. Both our heads are hard as rocks, but I have lots of wrinkles to cushion me from head-butts. Peach, on the other hand, looks dazed. I look for the car.
Vrrooooom.
“Here you go, Zelda and Peach, get it!” Ben says. I wait and watch the car. It takes all my pug patience to not run for it, but I know watching will give me clues how to catch it. The car is curving through the track on a pattern. It goes by Ben and then circles back to Peach before running by me. The only straight section is in front of Ben. I move over to him and wait. I see it coming from around the corner. I pounce on it like a cat. My paws cover the strip. The car runs into my paw, and I grab the car with my mouth.
I got it!
I run with it through the house. Peach chases me, eager to get her paws on it.
“Zelda, wait,” Ben yells. It’s too late. We are gone. I run up the stairs, and Peach chases me. I run through the bedrooms upstairs and back down the stairs. I jump on the couch and sit, out of breath.
“Zelda, drop it,” Ben says. I drop the car, and he takes it from me. Ben brings the car back to the dark strip.
Vrrooooom.
The car starts running, and Peach jumps on the ground after it. I let her go for it. I know the pattern now anyway. After a minute or so, she grabs the car and releases it. She looks at me on the couch, and I look at her. I know exactly what she is thinking. That was fun while it lasted, but nowhere near as fun as squirrel chases.
10
Squirrels – Part 2
Peach and I hear the birds chirping today, signaling the start of warm afternoons filled with green grass and sunshine. The birds always know before pugs when it shifts to warm days. Even though we haven’t seen any squirrels in our yard for a long time, we start searching for signs. I detect a faint whiff of squirrel lingering in the backyard, but no sign of any recent visits.
Without squirrels to hunt, Peach and I chase each other through the yard. We create our own trails in the snow, and over the course of a few days, the grass is visible again. I see birds hanging out in the trees high above us; the squirrels will be returning
soon.
Inside the house, Hannah brings home a new toy for us—a squeaky squirrel. The squirrel looks real, and the squeak is louder than the owl’s! We play with the squirrel for hours each day. Peach even tries to bring it outside with us, but Hannah doesn’t let her.
A few days after the fake squirrel comes home, the scent is back. Our squirrel nemesis has returned. I find the scent in one corner, and Peach traces it along the fence to the other side of the yard. The smell is fresh; we probably just missed him. The squirrel scent excites us. Peach runs full speed at me with crazy eyes. I duck out of her way in the nick of time, and she sails past me. I turn and chase her through the yard. We run full speed to all corners of the yard three times before we take a break. We eat several mouthfuls of snow and cool off.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
Our heads turn in unison to the source of the squeak. A squirrel is sitting in a tree in our neighbor’s yard, looking down on us.
He is back!
Peach and I look at each other and then dash to the fence. The squirrel squeaks at us for a few minutes. We bark back, baiting the squirrel to come down. He moves down the tree, and in one solid leap he is on the fence running to the other side. We give chase to the squirrel, putting our plan in action.
Peach runs to the other side of the yard. I keep running with the squirrel. He runs up the tree in our yard and stops high above me.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
The squirrel is taunting me, and I play his game. I bark at him, jumping as high as I can, knowing there is no way I will reach him. The squirrel leaps from one branch to another, lower and lower. I have to admit that it’s an impressive feat. He jumps on the fence and runs to where he started.
I follow him for a few pug lengths and stop so I don’t get in the way. Peach is barreling along the fence line toward me. When she is a few pug lengths away, she leaps into the air. I have never seen Peach jump this high; her head is above the fence! The squirrel is coming straight at her. Everything is moving in slow motion. At the last instant, the squirrel tries to turn, but it is too late. Peach grabs hold of his tail, and she sails to the ground with the squirrel.