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Dog Diaries

Page 3

by Betsy Byars, Betsy Duffey


  Jim still couldn’t see, but a man who’d made harnesses and such before the war rigged up a sort of harness for me. Ropes went around my chest in a certain way, and Jim held on to the whole thing. Jim said if they could get him on a train to Oak Junction, we could walk the rest of the way.

  On the train ride I sat on Jim’s lap, and people fed us things. When the train got to Oak Junction, I didn’t want to get off.

  Jim knew how to start off to Oak Falls, but he got tired quick. When he started stumbling, I found us shelter in a barn. We were the only animals there.

  * * *

  In the morning, the farmer came out and his wife gave us breakfast. He said the army had taken his horses, or he would’ve driven us home. Jim thanked him for breakfast, and we set off.

  It was hard going. I did my best, but I would walk under a tree, and a low limb would knock him down. Or I wouldn’t see a rock and he’d trip. Every time he said, “Keep going, Jip. You’re doing fine.”

  We spent another night under a bridge to keep out of the rain, but we didn’t mind because Jim and I both remembered the bridge. It wasn’t far from home. During the night, he kept saying, “Is it morning, Jip?” because he wanted to get going. Finally, it was morning and we set out.

  We were wet, but I just shook the water off and Jim didn’t seem to care. We turned down our road, and I didn’t have to lead him anymore. He knew this road. When we went around the bend, he stopped.

  I looked up at him, and his face was turned to the farm. He was all smiles. He said, “Jip, I never thought I’d see this place again.”

  He gave a whoop, and the family burst out the door and ran to meet us.

  CHAPTER 12

  Lucy’s Blended Family

  Dear Diary,

  It’s been weeks since I’ve written you, and as you read this you will see why.

  Seven weeks ago, on a cold January day, I delivered three puppies. My owner was there, and together we admired my beautiful puppies.

  One morning several weeks later, I was nursing my pups when the phone rang. It was obvious something was wrong—a crisis. My owner kept looking at me and saying my name. The crisis concerned me.

  She hung up the phone, turned to me, and said two of my favorite words, car ride.

  I didn’t usually leave the puppies, but I do love a car ride. She closed the puppies up in the laundry room, and we headed for the car.

  Ten minutes later, we pulled into the vet’s parking lot. THE VET. I hate that place. I jumped in the back seat. My owner opened the back door. I jumped in the front seat. Finally, she picked me up and we went inside. Immediately I realized that this was not a typical visit. The lady in the front quickly led us to a back room where I’d never been before.

  The first thing I noticed was a big box on the floor. What was in the box? Why were we there? What was that high squeaking noise?

  My owner lifted me up, and I looked into the box. Two small kittens huddled in the corner. Then, without warning, she lowered me into the box. I trusted her, but this was strange.

  I stood there in the box, with the two small kittens just inches away. They looked weak and tired, and I didn’t know what was expected of me.

  “Lie down, Lucy,” my owner said.

  I lay down.

  The lady picked up one of the kittens and placed it right next to one of my nipples. I looked at the lady, then at my owner. They were holding their breath.

  The kitten sniffed my nipple, then licked it. Suddenly, she grabbed my nipple and began to nurse. The second kitten grabbed another nipple. He started to nurse too. They nursed hard. I wondered when they’d had their last meal and where their mother was. Then it struck me. Now I was their mother.

  I looked up to see smiles on the faces of my owner and the lady. Clearly, they were pleased that these kittens were getting something to eat. I was pleased too. I leaned back and relaxed.

  Next thing I knew, they were loading the box, with me and the kittens, into the car.

  The kittens are at our house now, and my puppies love them.

  I never expected to have a blended family, but I wouldn’t change a thing.

  CHAPTER 13

  WOOF! WOOF! Till Next Year

  All was chaos! Some dogs were howling, other pounding their paws to the floor in thunderous applause. Tails wagged and bodies wiggled in delight. Beauregard made his way slowly back to the podium. He choked back tears.

  “Never,” he said, “never before have we heard such a thing as this … Dog Diaries. These stories prove that dogs do have vital stories to tell. You, my friends, have been a part of dog history. This concludes the first annual meeting of the WOOF Society.”

  The noise and wiggling and howling and thumping broke out again.

  “Order,” said the president. “Order! I have one more very important announcement before the night is over.”

  The crowd quieted.

  “Are there refreshments?” a drooling Peke in the third row asked hopefully.

  “No food. Something more important. At our next meeting we will be joined by the cat society, MEOW (Memories Expressed in Our Writing).”

  A Doberman in the front row raised his back hair and growled. Beauregard gave him the harsh stare of the Alpha dog. “Remember, Canine Friends,” he said not taking his eyes off the offender, “we value all writers, and the members of MEOW must be treated with dignity and respect.” The Doberman’s tail drooped.

  Beauregard continued, “Perhaps this would be a good time for Calvin to read some of his New Year’s Resolutions. Calvin.”

  Calvin made his way to the podium.

  “My list is not complete, but here’s what I’ve got so far.

  “One. I will not bark when the phone rings.

  “Two. I will not bunch up the covers on the bed.

  “Three. I will not chase cats when I am on a leash.

  “Four. I will not chase cats if there is any possibility I might catch them. Of course, now that I know they are fellow authors, I wouldn’t chase them at all … if I could help it,” he said with a wink to the audience.

  “Five. I will not hug ladies’ legs.

  “Six. I will not smell people’s personal places.

  “I know these are the same resolutions I made last year … and the year before. So, here is my most important resolution—I will keep my New Year’s Resolutions.”

  The crowd cheered as Calvin sat down.

  “Until next time,” Beauregard said, “hold high our motto, and remember to share it with your human friends. All together now!”

  “WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!”

  From the abandoned building, under the rickety stairwell, one by one the dogs emerged. Large Dobermans, small Pekingese, Scotties, and Pugs. Purebred dogs and dogs of unknown pedigree. Dogs with collars and licenses, and dogs with none.

  They were all different, but all had three things in common: They were dogs. They were literate. And most important their tails were wagging.

  Henry Holt and Company, LLC

  Publishers since 1866

  175 Fifth Avenue

  New York, New York 10010

  www.henryholtchildrensbooks.com

  Henry Holt® is a registered trademark of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.

  Text copyright © 2007 by Betsy Byars, Betsy Duffey, Laurie Myers

  Illustrations copyright © 2007 by Erik Brooks

  All rights reserved.

  eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First Edition—2007

  eISBN 9781466889613

  First eBook edition: December 2014

 

 

 

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