by Nancy Krulik
MAGIC BONE
GO FETCH!
GROSSET & DUNLAP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Text copyright © 2014 by Nancy Krulik. Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Sebastien Braun. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN: 978-0-399-54127-8
Version_1
MAGIC BONE
GO FETCH!
by Nancy Krulik
illustrated by Sebastien Braun
For Ian, my DC connection!—NK
For Graham—SB
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
Fun Facts about Sparky’s Adventures in Washington, DC
The Lincoln Memorial
The National Mall
The Washington Monument
The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum
The White House
The United States Capitol
The National Cherry Blossom Festival Parade®
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
“Throw the ball, Josh!” I bark. “Throw the ball!”
My two-leg, Josh, is holding a ball in his paw. He looks straight ahead and gets ready to throw.
My tail is wagging back and forth. It loves playing fetch.
My paws are bouncing up and down. They love playing fetch, too.
“Throw the ball!” I bark. “Throw the ball.”
Josh doesn’t speak dog. But I think he knows what I’m saying because he throws the ball.
“I got it! I got it!” I bark excitedly.
My paws run after the ball. Fast. Faster. Fastest.
Fur flies into my eyes. It’s hard for me to see. But my paws keep running. Fast. Faster . . .
Crash! Ouch! I bang right into the tree in my yard. Stupid tree. Stupid fur in my eyes.
I look up and see a girl two-leg. She’s standing by my tree holding the ball in her paw. My ball. Who is this two-leg? And why did she catch my ball?
Now she’s throwing my ball in the air.
Yay! The girl two-leg wants to play!
“I got it! I got it!” I bark.
My paws bounce up high in the air. My mouth opens wide. “I got it!” I bark again.
Chomp! I grab the ball in my mouth. I run over to Josh and drop it at his feet.
Josh picks up the ball. He shakes his head and says, “No, Sparky. No!”
Sparky, no? I’ve heard those words before. But usually it’s when I grab some food from the table. Or drink from the big white water bowl Josh uses when he has to make a yellow puddle.
Josh never tells me no when we’re playing fetch. Until now.
Josh throws the ball to the girl two-leg. She fetches it and throws the ball back to him. No one is letting me fetch the ball.
No fair!
I watch as the ball goes back and forth between Josh and the two-leg girl.
Finally, Josh drops the ball on the ground. My tail picks up. My ears stop drooping. My paws start boinging.
Anything on the ground is mine! That’s the rule.
Wiggle, waggle, woo-hoo! It’s my turn to play with Josh!
I fetch the ball and start to run. But before I can reach him, Josh and the girl leave the yard. Then I hear a loud noise. It’s Josh’s big metal machine with four round paws.
The machine sounds like it’s going away. But, that’s okay. I can play fetch by myself.
I spit the ball out of my mouth. It doesn’t go very far. This game of fetch isn’t any fun.
What now? I know! I race over to Josh’s flower bed and start diggety, dig, digging. Diggety, dig, dig. Diggety, dig . . . WOW!
It’s a bone. A bright, beautiful, sparkly bone.
Sniff, sniff, sniff. It smells so good. Like chicken, beef, and sausage all rolled into one.
“Hello, bone!” I bark excitedly.
The bone doesn’t bark back. Bones don’t bark.
This bone smells so meaty. I just have to take a bite . . .
Chomp!
Wiggle, waggle, whew. I feel dizzy—like my insides are spinning all around—but my outsides are standing still. Stars are twinkling in front of my eyes—even though it’s daytime! All around me I smell food—fried chicken, salmon, roast beef. But there isn’t any food in sight.
Kaboom! Kaboom! Kaboom!
CHAPTER 2
The kabooming stops.
I look around. I’m definitely not in my yard anymore. I’m in a big park. It’s full of trees and two-legs. And there’s a gigantic water bowl running right through it.
What’s going on? How did I get here?
Wait a minute. I know how I got here. The bone. It kaboomed me to . . . well . . . wherever I am.
It isn’t just any bone. It is a magic bone. I’ve taken bites out of it before. And every time, I’ve ended up somewhere else.
Like the day my magic bone took me to London and I ate chips. Which are really fries.
Or the time it kaboomed me to Hawaii and I ate shave ice.
And the time my magic bone sent me to Rome and I ate meatballs. Which were almost as yummy, yum, yum as the cheese I ate when I kaboomed all the way to Switzerland.
I wonder what food I will find here.
I wonder where here is.
Rumble, rumble, grumble. My tummy is hungry. I can tell because I speak tummy. Rumble, rumble, grumble means “feed me!”
But first I have to bury my bone in a safe place. This bone is the only thing that can kaboom me back to Josh’s yard when I want to go home.
That is, if I decide that I want to go home. I’m not sure Josh needs me anymore. He has a new friend now. He plays fetch with her. And he takes her for rides in his metal machine with the four round paws. I wonder if she likes sticking her head out the window like I do.
I spot a tree with lots and lots of flowers on its branches. I’ll bury my bone right near the tree. That way I can find my hiding spot when it’s time to dig up my bone and go home. If I go home.
I start to diggety, dig, dig. Dirt flies everywhere.
I’ve made a big hole. I drop my bone in, and push the dirt right back over it. Now my bone is completely hidden. No one will ever find it—except me, of course!
Wow. All that diggety, dig, digging has tired me out. I sure would like to curl up on Josh’s lap and take a nap.
But Josh went away and took his lap with him.
Still, there are plenty of two-legs around here. Maybe one of them would like to have a sheepdog puppy curl up in his lap.
Aha! There’s a very tall two-leg sitting on a c
hair inside a big white building. His lap looks huge.
I run to the building. I dash up the stairs.
Two-legs leap to the side as I climb the stairs. They don’t want to get in my way. What nice two-legs!
Up, up, uh-oh!
That sure is a big two-leg sitting in the chair. I don’t know if I can jump all the way up into his lap. But I’m gonna try.
Boing! Boing! My paws bounce up and down as I try to jump high enough to reach the tall two-leg’s lap.
I can’t.
So I’m just going to curl up at his feet. Maybe he will bend down and pet me, like Josh does when I curl up at his feet.
Aaahhhh. The floor feels so cool against my belly.
“Okay, big two-leg,” I bark. “Pet me!”
But the two-leg doesn’t bend down to stroke my fur. He doesn’t move at all. That’s when I realize that the giant two-leg isn’t a real two-leg. He’s a statue.
I know all about statues. I saw lots of them when I was in Rome. Statues look like two-legs, but they’re made of stone.
Still, there are plenty of real, live two-legs around here. And they’re all pointing at me and yelling.
I don’t like when two-legs yell at me. It’s loud. And scary.
Quickly, I run down the big white stairs.
Suddenly, a two-leg runs toward me. He looks angry.
What if he’s a dogcatcher? They grab dogs and put them in the pound. I know. I got thrown in a pound in London. There was no dirt to dig up and no windows. I don’t want to go to a pound ever again.
Run faster! I tell my paws.
My paws zoom, zoom, zoom until finally they stop behind a big green bush.
Phew. There are no two-legs around anywhere.
I don’t have to be scared anymore. There’s no one hiding here in the bushes but me!
Achoo!
Uh-oh. What was that?
Achoo!
Someone’s coming. Someone I don’t know. Someone who might not like dogs.
I’ve got to find a better place to hide. And quickly!
CHAPTER 3
Before I have the chance to move, I come face-to-face with a terrier.
Achoo! He sneezes.
“Who are you?” I ask him.
“Aren’t you going to say bless you?” the terrier asks me.
“Is that something dogs say to each other in this place?” I wonder aloud.
“It’s something you say anyplace when someone sneezes,” the terrier replies. “Not just here in Washington, DC.”
Washington, DC. That must be the name of this place.
Achoo! The terrier sneezes again. He wipes his nose with his paw.
“Bless you,” I say this time. “You sure sneeze a lot.”
“It’s the cherry blossoms,” the terrier tells me. “There are a lot of them this time of year. I’m allergic.”
“Hi, Allergic.” I sniff his butt to say hello. “My name’s Sparky.”
“What?” the terrier asks. Then he starts to laugh. “No, my name’s not Allergic. My name’s Fala. I just meant that something in the cherry blossoms makes me sneeze.”
“Cherry blossoms?” I ask.
“Those pink flowers up in the tree,” he tells me. Achoo. “I hate ’em.” Achoo.
“Bless you,” I say.
“You’re new to Washington, huh?” Fala asks me.
“Yeah,” I answer. “I just kaboomed here.”
“You just what?” Fala asks. Then he sneezes. Achoo!
Oops. I almost told Fala about my magic bone, and I’m not sure I want to do that. I don’t know Fala at all. What if he’s the kind of dog who steals other dogs’ bones?
“Bless you,” I say again.
“Thank you. Where are you from?” Fala asks me.
“Josh’s house,” I reply.
“Josh is your two-leg?” Fala asks.
I don’t know how to answer that. Josh was my two-leg. And he still might be. But he might not be. He might have found someone else!
“I used to have a whole family of two-legs,” Fala says before I have a chance to answer. “But I got tired of being stuck home all the time when they went away. So one morning I bolted out of the yard. I’ve been on my own ever since.”
Wow. Fala’s story sounds like what happened to me. “Don’t you miss them?” I ask Fala.
Achoo! “Nah,” Fala says between sneezes. Achoo! “Now I’m never bored. There’s always something exciting going on in Washington. And I’m in the middle of it, instead of being cooped up in the yard.”
“How long have you been on your own?” I ask him.
“For lots of dinners and breakfasts,” he answers.
Grumble. Rumble. As soon as my ears hear dinner and breakfast, my tummy starts talking.
“Are there good scraps in Washington?” I ask.
“Yes, the yummiest!” Fala tells me. “Pretzel pieces, hot-dog buns, bits of ice-cream cone.”
“I love ice cream!” I tell Fala.
“Then come on, Sparkster,” Fala tells me. “Let’s go have some scraps!”
Sparkster? I don’t like that name. It’s not what Josh calls me.
But Josh isn’t here. Fala is. He’s the only friend I have in Washington. So I don’t say anything. I don’t want to make Fala angry.
“Hurry up,” Fala says. “It’s picnic time on the Mall.”
“The Mall?” I ask him as we run.
“Yeah,” Fala says. “Two-legs call this park the National Mall. I call it my food bowl.”
Achoo! Fala sneezes and snaps up a piece of pretzel. I see another piece of pretzel lying on the ground. Fala doesn’t notice it. He’s too busy staring at a chubby two-leg sitting on a bench. The two-leg is missing some of the fur from the top of his head.
The next thing I know, Fala is running toward the two-leg!
“Where are you going?” I bark after him.
Fala doesn’t answer. He just keeps running toward the bench.
I watch as Fala walks over and sniffs at the two-leg. The two-leg jumps up, surprised. He moves away.
Fala pads back to me. He looks sad.
“Who was that two-leg?” I ask him.
“N-nobody,” Fala says. “I thought it was someone I knew. But it wasn’t.” Achoo. He sneezes again and wipes his nose with his paw.
I nose the piece of pretzel on the ground. “Are you going to eat that?”
Fala shakes his head. “Nah. You take it, Sparkster. There’s plenty of food around here.”
Fala points his snout toward a family of two-legs. They’re sitting on the ground eating chicken.
Wiggle, waggle, woo-hoo! The food is on the ground. That means it’s for dogs! I run right over.
But before I can grab a piece of chicken, I see something fly by. It’s a ball! A small two-leg just threw it to a big two-leg.
They’re playing fetch!
“Can I play, too?” I bark as I run for the ball.
The two-legs don’t understand what I’m saying. So I show them. I jump up in the air and catch the ball in my teeth. Then I bring it over to the young two-leg.
The young two-leg looks at the ball. He looks at me. Then he yells and starts to run away.
I think he’s scared. I don’t know why. I’m not scary. I’m just a puppy. Puppies are never scary.
But big two-legs can be scary. Especially if they’re angry.
“Sparkster, we should get out of here!” Fala calls as the angry big two-leg starts to come near us.
Fala takes off.
And since I don’t want to get yelled at anymore, I take off, too—right behind my new friend.
CHAPTER 4
Thumpety, thump, thump. My heart is thumping so hard.
Stop thumping, I tell my heart.
Fala and I stop near the edge of the giant water bowl. I stick my head in and lap up some of the cold water.
“You’re pretty fast, Sparkster,” Fala says. “I’m glad. For a minute there I wasn’t sure we were going to
get away without being caught.”
Gulp. “Caught?” I ask nervously.
Achoo. Fala sneezes. Then he frowns. “We’re supposed to be on leashes when we’re on the National Mall,” he tells me. “It’s a dumb rule. And it’s not really fair to dogs like us who are living on our own.”
On our own? Fala was right. I used to be with Josh. Now I’m on my own.
Well, it doesn’t matter right now. I’m sure there are lots of things to do here. Like over there—there’s a giant white stick. It’s standing straight up. It’s so tall it looks like it’s touching those white fluffy things in the sky.
“That’s the biggest stick I’ve ever seen!” I tell Fala. “I don’t even think my friend Frankie could fetch that stick. And he’s a big German shepherd.”
Achoo. Fala sneezes and shakes his head. “That’s no stick,” he tells me. “That’s the Washington Monument. It’s made of stone. From the top, you can see all over the city.”
“All over?” I ask him.
“Uh-huh,” Fala tells me. “They don’t let dogs up there. But I’ve snuck up a few times. I can sneak you up there, too!”
I’m not sure we should go up to the top of that Washington Monument stick. It’s pretty tall.
But I don’t want Fala to know I’m scared. I want him to think I’m brave. Just like him.
“Let’s go!” I try to sound excited.
Fala runs off toward a crowd of two-legs.
Before I can follow Fala, I have to stop at a tree. I need to get rid of some of the water I just drank.
As I lift my leg, I notice a piece of paper stuck to the tree trunk. There’s a picture of a dog on the paper. And not just any dog.
“Hey, Fala!” I bark. “The dog in that picture looks like you.”
But Fala can’t hear me. He’s already near a crowd of two-legs. I hurry to catch up to him.
Fala is sneaking around the two-legs. They don’t even notice him.
But I’m bigger than Fala. I keep bumping into their legs.
“Ouch!” I bark as a two-leg steps on my paw.