Emma Raining Cats and Dogs . . . and Cupcakes!

by Coco Simon

  Mike laughed. “She probably wasn’t the best purchase I ever made. It was an impulse buy, for Sandy’s birthday. I saw an ad in the paper and just went to the people’s house and bought her on the spot. She was just so darn cute!”

  “She’s a lot of work,” said Sandy.

  It was kind of a bummer. I could tell Sandy wasn’t that into the dog. I thought about everything Mrs. Barnett had said about being ready. Then I thought about our family. I had to say, we were pretty ready, and we were set up for a dog. We had the fenced-in yard in the back; we also had invisible fencing all around in the front and back, from when we had Sissy; our house was already kind of trashed; someone was home a lot—the only times of day there wasn’t always someone home was from nine to two thirty. Not so bad. And depending on my mom’s shifts, she might be there one or two weekdays during those times, anyway. Plus, I knew a ton about dogs from my dog-walking business. And Jake was clearly eager. Taking stock of our situation made me feel good.

  “We’re getting a dog soon. Maybe for Jake’s birthday next month,” I said. I hoped it didn’t sound braggy.

  “Cool! What kind?” asked Mike.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “We’re kind of open to anything. A family dog. You know.”

  Mike watched Jake and Rocky as they happily romped around. “Would you get a puppy?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t think it has to be a puppy. I mean, puppies are the most fun, but if we couldn’t find one we wanted right when we were ready, we might look at older dogs, maybe.” I was saying all this as if my family had discussed it, when obviously we hadn’t.

  “Puppies are a lot of work,” said Sandy, whom I now was starting to dislike. She was being so negative.

  I nodded. “I know. I do a lot of dogsitting and dog-walking,” I said. Oops. I shouldn’t have said “dogsit.” Nervously I glanced up to see Sandy and Mike exchange a glance.

  “Hey, did your dad mention . . . ,” began Mike.

  I had to laugh. “My parents are discussing it. They are going to give you a call if the answer is yes,” I said.

  “It would be such a huge help. We’d really appreciate it,” said Mike.

  “Take my dog, please! You can keep her!” joked Sandy. Or at least I hoped she was joking.

  “Ha-ha. Right,” I said.

  “Just let us know, okay?” said Mike.

  “Sure thing. I’ll tell them tonight that we saw you and how cute Rocky is.”

  “Thanks,” said Mike, relieved. “It would be nice to have a break from her for a few days.”

  “Hmm,” I said.

  Jake came trooping over. “Emmy? I’m hungry. Can we go get lunch?”

  “Sure,” I said. “It looked like you were having a blast out there with your buddy.”

  “Yup. Rocky’s my new best friend, right, boy?”

  “Um, Rocky’s actually a . . . ,” Mike said, looking a little uncomfortable.

  “Shh!” said Sandy. “Let him think whatever he wants!”

  Jake looked up. “I know he’s a girl. I just call him ‘boy’ ’cause that’s what dogs are. Dogs are boys and cats are girls.”

  “What?! Where did you ever come up with that?” I demanded.

  Jake shrugged. “I dunno. But that’s why I think you should get one of those kitties over there! Let’s go say bye before we leave.” He stooped to hug Rocky one last time and then said, “See you at the game tomorrow, boy!”

  And we all laughed and said our good-byes.

  Katie and Alexis and I trailed behind Jake on the way back to the ARF table.

  “Wow, that was pretty sad. That lady really doesn’t like her dog,” observed Alexis.

  “I know! It made me so mad! I wanted to . . . I don’t know. Put dog poop in her cupcake or something!” I said.

  “Oooh, Emma! You go, girl!” teased Katie.

  “Yes, she is one person who should not have a dog,” agreed Alexis.

  “Or at least not that dog,” corrected Katie.

  “Yeah, she should have a mean, snarly attack dog!” I said, laughing, and the others giggled.

  Jake was in the cat pen, and the ARF people were loading up the dogs to go back to the shelter.

  “Jake, didn’t you like any of the doggies here?” I asked.

  Jake looked over at the dog pen and then waved dismissively. “I like big fluffy dogs.”

  It was true; all the dogs in the pen were short-haired or smooth-coated. And they were all reasonably sized, unlike our friend Rocky.

  “You know, Mom and Dad might not even let us get a dog,” I began. “And if they do, it might have to be a small, practical dog. Like . . . a pug or something.”

  Jake laughed. “No way,” he said. “I’m getting Rocky.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Ha-ha. Rocky belongs to Mike and Sandy,” I said.

  “Hmmm,” said Jake.

  This was not good. But that’s what parents are for, I reminded myself. It was not my problem.

  Alexis was watching the dogs as they struggled, resisting being put back into their travel cages. The cats were more docile but still not psyched.

  “I wonder what they think, being out here in the fresh air for the day, and all these people handling them, and then they just go back to the shelter. It’s so sad,” she said tragically.

  I nodded. “But they’ll find homes. You know they won’t put them down. Mrs. Barnett said so.”

  “Yeah, but they might have to live there for a year and it’s not”—Alexis lowered her voice—“exactly the lap of luxury.”

  “No kidding!” I agreed. “That’s why I wanted to donate the cupcakes.”

  Alexis looked at me, stricken. “You were right. We’re donating them. What was I thinking? These poor little critters. Come on. Let’s tell Mrs. Barnett.”

  Mrs. Barnett tried to insist on paying, but she had never negotiated with Alexis Becker before. We didn’t take a dime from them, though Mrs. Barnett did get Alexis to swear she would charge us full price next time. (Mrs. Barnett didn’t know that Alexis is famous for crossing her toes in her shoes when she makes a promise she knows she won’t keep, but I wasn’t about to say anything.)

  They finished loading the animals, and we wrapped up the remaining ten cupcakes for them to take back to their office and put in the break room. Mrs. Barnett and her staff thanked us profusely, and we waved sadly as they pulled away with their van filled with pets.

  “Bye, doggies and kitties,” I said softly.

  Alexis looked ready to cry, which she never does. Katie did have a tear in her eye. “Oh, I wish my mom wasn’t allergic!” she wailed.

  “Jakey, why wouldn’t you want to adopt one of those nice doggies that needs a home?” I said to him.

  He was already walking away, completely untroubled by the ARF scenario.

  “ ’Cause I’m getting Rocky!” he said.

  I hated to admit it, but I could see why he wanted her so badly. They definitely had a bond. She just wasn’t available for the taking.

  CHAPTER 5

  Tigerlily

  I was looking through my Instagram when I got home, and I realized Diego had never posted anything about the ARF event today. That was weird. Usually, he did at least two posts prior to any ARF event and then a few photos from the actual event. It wasn’t like I would ever ask him now, but it did seem odd.

  At dinner, Jake and I told everyone about our dog day.

  “Rocky is so cute, guys. We should totally dogsit her,” I said.

  “Wait, her?” said my dad. “I thought it was a him?”

  “Her.” I explained about the name.

  “Oh, that makes me feel better that it’s a girl,” said my mom. “Boy dogs like to mark their territories more, and that means peeing on furniture and all around the house. Not fun.” She took a deep breath. “So, since we’re on the topic, your dad and I did discuss it, and we think it would be fine to have Rocky come stay for a few days.”

  “Really? Yay!” Jake pumped his
fists in the air. “You’re the best parents ever! It will be so fun! You won’t regret it!”

  My mom laughed wearily. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll regret it. But that’s fine. We will have fun.”

  My dad agreed to call Mike after dinner. I pictured how thrilled Sandy would be and it annoyed me somehow. Rocky was a fantastic dog. You couldn’t breed that kind of gentleness and personality, not to mention how cute she was. Sandy just didn’t know how lucky she was. Or at least that’s what I thought before Rocky arrived on Thursday.

  Rocky took some getting used to, and that’s putting it mildly. She was big and smelly, she liked to chew on shoes, it was true about her tail swiping across tables, and her favorite activity was waking people up in the morning. The first day of having her felt like a week.

  But the second day, my dad put up two gates to keep her in the kitchen and family room only. We took all the stuff off the coffee table in the family room and made sure to leave our shoes inside the lockers in the mudroom. Sam brought some chew toys back from the mall after work, and she loved them. My dad gave her a bath in the mudroom’s tub (he had to wear a bathing suit), and she loved that, too, and Rocky smelled great when she came out.

  I saw my dad grimace at my mom afterward and then say, “I don’t think that dog has had a bath in ages.”

  “Poor thing,” my mom replied, helping to towel off Rocky. I saw my mom slip her an extra treat when she was done.

  As for Jake taking care of the dog . . . Well, it quickly became clear what Jake’s limitations were. He still refused to pick up dog poop. He did not want to walk Rocky alone. He gagged when he tried to feed her canned food. However, he did like snuggling with Rocky and brushing her fur, and he would throw the ball endlessly in the backyard for her, tiring her out for the night.

  On the second afternoon, I came across my mom watching Jake and Rocky through the kitchen window, and I joined her.

  “Pretty cute,” my mom said.

  Jake would throw the ball, and then Rocky would retrieve it and then drop it at Jake’s feet. Jake would say something to Rocky, and Rocky would cock her head from side to side as Jake talked—it almost looked like they were having a conversation.

  “Yeah, I guess. If he gets a dog, though, it’s going to be a lot of work for everyone. ’Cause he won’t do it on his own.”

  My mom nodded. “Mmm-hmmm,” she agreed. “Maybe it needs to be everyone’s dog.”

  That sounded okay (I knew who’d get stuck doing much of the walking and poop picking up: me!), but maybe if I got a cat, it would make me feel more generous toward the dog. I couldn’t get Tigerlily off my mind. I kept googling cats and checking out Tigerlily’s photo on the ARF website.

  On Friday, Alexis agreed to go visit her with me after we baked Mona’s cupcakes. Mia and Katie were going home instead of coming with us because we were having a sleepover Saturday at my house, so they wanted to get their homework done.

  We got to ARF around four thirty, and they brought Tigerlily out to us in the glassed-in play area, known as the cat aquarium. She was pretty spunky, actually, chasing after a feather toy we found and playing with another cat. After a while, though, she crashed and snuggled into my lap for a nap. It was so cute.

  “You should totally get her,” said Alexis. Then something caught her eye outside the half-open door to the room. “Hey!” she said. “I think I just saw Diego go by.”

  “What?!” I whipped my head around, disturbing Tigerlily. “I haven’t seen him all week. I wonder if he was even at school.” I’d been hoping to run into him just one more time to confirm that he didn’t like me. But then I hadn’t seen him. Nor had he been posting anything about ARF at all. Tigerlily settled back to sleep as I soothed her with a pat.

  “Will you pretty please go see for me if it’s really him?” I asked Alexis.

  “Chicken,” she teased.

  But then we saw him bolt past the door—Diego, for sure—and three people were rushing along behind him.

  Alexis and I looked at each other.

  “Is something going on out there?” I asked. “Seriously, you go check and I’ll put back Tigerlily.”

  I gave the kitty some extra hugs and kisses and promised to try to come adopt her soon, but I wasn’t sure that would happen. I was working on it. Slowly. I secured her in the cat aquarium and went out into the hall to see what was up.

  Out in the hall there was a ruckus, and as I approached the front desk, there was a whole bunch of adults milling around frantically. Some were heading outside, and some were making phone calls, and Diego was there, running his fingers nervously through his hair. His back was to us, and I was embarrassed to call out his name. I nudged Alexis and gestured to her to approach him.

  She shrugged and did. “Diego?” she said.

  He spun around, but when he saw that it was Alexis, his face relaxed. “Oh, hey, Alexis.” Then he noticed me, and he kind of turned away quickly.

  My heart sank. It was official. He didn’t like me.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  I couldn’t hear his reply, but I was beginning to get the gist of it from the people around me. Diego had been moving the dogs from the outside play area, back to their crates; but when he got upstairs, one was missing. Now, everyone was searching the neighborhood frantically and calling animal control and everything they could think of to find the poor little guy. His name was Bingo.

  Diego dashed off, and Alexis came back over to me, her eyes wide.

  “I know, I heard. And he obviously hates me, by the way. Ugh. What is wrong with—”

  “Shush! Stop the self-criticism. I was going to tell you that Diego is covered, and I mean covered, in a rash of some sort. I bet that’s why he was all bundled up in the park the other day. And why he doesn’t want to see you. He probably loves you and is embarrassed!” Alexis smiled smugly. “Knew it!”

  My jaw was hanging open. I couldn’t think of what to say. I liked this possible version of events better than the Diego-not-liking-me version, but it was hard to process after days of thinking he didn’t like me. “Huh” was all I could manage. I shook my head to clear it.

  We saw Mrs. Barnett striding briskly down the hall, her mouth set in a grim line.

  “Mrs. Barnett, can we help?” asked Alexis.

  She looked surprised to see us there. “Oh. Thanks! Sure. Actually, you know what? I have a hunch that Bingo is somewhere in this building. Would you girls be willing to have a look around?”

  Alexis and I readily agreed and set out.

  We went from room to room—from vet checkup rooms, to shower rooms, to playrooms, to an operating room. . . .

  “This place is huge!” I said.

  “No wonder they need to raise so much money,” said Alexis, in awe. “Their overhead and payroll must be staggering!”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes at Alexis—also known as Ms. Business Lady.

  By the time we had searched the place from top to bottom, running into a few other searchers along the way, we were confident that the dog was not in the building. We all regrouped at the front desk, and everyone quieted down while Mrs. Barnett stood in front to give an overview of the search and lay out the next steps. I watched Diego from the corner of my eye. He stood slightly apart from the group—besides the rash, he probably felt like an idiot for losing the dog. My heart went out to him.

  But suddenly, as we were all standing there, the elevator doors opened with a loud ding.

  I didn’t turn to look, but some people did, and then there was an outcry.

  “Bingo!” someone yelled.

  I turned, and there in the elevator was the dog we’d all been looking for!

  Diego ran to him and wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck. The dog promptly licked Diego all over, and Diego laughed. It seemed that Diego had brought the dogs up in the elevator and gotten out on the second floor, but Bingo had stayed behind. When the doors closed, and with no one using the elevator for a while, the dog must have just lain d
own and taken a nap. The big mystery was why the doors had opened now. We’d never know.

  “Maybe Bingo got hungry and decided the game of hide-and-seek was over!” someone said, and we laughed.

  Diego was embarrassed but relieved. I had to speak with him; with everyone around, it felt less awkward.

  I walked over. “Hey, Diego. I’m glad it all worked out,” I said.

  He seemed to instinctively duck his head, but then thought better of it, and he turned to face me. “Thanks. Me too,” he said.

  I could see now what Alexis had meant about the rash. It was all over his face and neck. I tried to keep my face neutral, but it did look pretty bad, though sort of like it was on its way to getting better.

  Diego sighed and then gestured to his face. “By the way . . .”

  Just then one of the vets interrupted him, and Diego looked at me helplessly, but with a smile, as he was drawn into yet another conversation about Bingo, the Dog that Got Away. I smiled back and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Okay, so he didn’t hate me. That much I could tell. Phew. It was hard to say if he liked me at all, under the circumstances, but I’d settle for just not being disliked right now.

  “Should we head home?” Alexis asked.

  I nodded. “I feel so bad about leaving Tigerlily here, though.”

  “Talk to your parents tonight!” Alexis said in exasperation. “Maybe they’ll let you come get her tomorrow!”

  “Hmm. Probably not tomorrow, with Rocky staying through the weekend,” I said. “But I will.”

  Just as we had retrieved our jackets and were getting ready to walk out the door, Mrs. Barnett stopped us. “Girls! Thanks for your help with the search today.” She smiled and shook her head in wonder. “I always think I’ve seen it all, and then something like this happens!”

  We laughed.

  “Listen, we’re going to do another park event next weekend, and we’d love you to bake for us. We were also thinking it might be fun to have some doggy cupcakes. Is that something you could figure out how to do, also?”