by Linda Johns
My mom’s friend, Lisa, came over to us. “Maggie!” she cried. “I heard you were house-sitting for Piper. And I heard you, Miss Hannah, are the talk of the neighborhood.”
“What?” Mom asked, sounding a bit alarmed.
“I saw the signs advertising a dog-walking business, and one of my neighbors just handed me your card. She said she met you with Benito, up at Market Time.” After that I tuned them out as they gossiped about former coworkers. I went back to sketching.
“I’ll have Hannah call you to set up a time when she can meet your dog,” Mom said, nudging me with her toes.
“Right,” I said, snapping to attention. “I’m very attentive and responsible.”
Lisa and Mom said good-bye, and then Mom turned back to me. “Benito—is that the boy we met with the shaggy dog?” she asked. “I wish we knew a little more about him.”
“Maybe we can go talk to him now,” I said, but when we looked across to the other side of the counter, Ben was gone. So was the guy I assumed was his dad. Mack was just getting up, fishing some money out of his wallet to leave on the counter. He put his hat on and headed out, holding the restaurant door open to allow a group of older girls to come in.
“Oh, you guys! I found the most adorable teacup puppy on the Internet! He only weighs two pounds, and I think I’m going to get him!” one of the girls said.
“You must tell us the site where you found your dog,” another girl said.
“I can’t decide if I want a brown or a black dog,” a third girl said.
“Black goes with everything,” one replied.
“Brown is the new black.” They all laughed. My kappa-maki suddenly felt heavy in my stomach. I couldn’t believe that real people thought of their dogs as accessories. I thought that was just something you read about in magazines or see on TV.
We headed back to the apartment to get Elvis then took him for a walk together. We walked up the hill a couple of blocks. “Whoa! Where did that come from?” I asked, staring at a huge mansion up the street. It was such a surprise to see that big of a house in a neighborhood where it was mostly apartment buildings and businesses. The yard must have taken up at least half a city block. An iron fence ran around the perimeter of the property.
“I forgot about this place. I don’t remember who owns it, but supposedly an eccentric old man and an army of cats live there.”
A dog barked, and we heard a screen door close somewhere in the back of the house.
“I wonder how the army of cats likes that dog,” I said.
CHAPTER 14
“I HAVE A surprise for you in the car,” Mom said after my Frisbee game Saturday morning. I felt a total sense of déjà vu, like I was living last Saturday all over again.
My team, the Chavez Bulldogs, had just beaten Jefferson Middle School, the school close to Fremont where Ben goes. I didn’t really expect Ben to be on their team, but I was kind of hoping he was.
“Is the surprise a drooling dog with droopy ears?” I asked.
“That’s just a bonus,” she said, unlocking the car trunk. She pulled a maple bar and a frosty blue Gatorade out of a grocery bag and handed them to me. “Great job, honey. I’m proud of you.” She gave me a hug.
“And you’re the best mom ever,” I said, immediately taking a bite of the maple bar. I felt it was my responsibility to consume the pastry as quickly as possible before I got in the car and had to protect it from Elvis.
There wasn’t enough time for me to change my clothes before my volunteer shift at the animal shelter. I pulled a hooded sweatshirt over my head and changed from my cleats to regular sneakers.
“Hi, Meredith,” I said as we practically collided in the doorway at the Elliott Bay Animal Shelter. She kept going, walking hurriedly to a blue car in the parking lot. I think the tires even screeched as she drove off, but that could have been in my head. She seemed to be in such a hurry that I imagined the tires screeching and gravel spurting out from under the tires.
“Hannah, can I see you?” Leonard asked as I was signing in. I followed him back to a small office. “I need to let you know that Izzie’s gone.”
I don’t know what my face looked like, but it must have been pretty traumatized.
“No, no, no! I didn’t mean it that way,” Leonard rushed to say. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I just meant that Izzie has a new home.”
“But that’s a great thing! That’s the best thing that could happen!”
“Of course it is. I just thought you’d be sad not to be able to see her today,” he said.
I was sad, and I knew Leonard could tell that I was fighting back tears. Geesh! I wanted to kick myself for being so selfish. Our whole goal was to find good homes for animals.
“Did she—” I started.
“Yes,” he said reassuringly. “She definitely went to a good home. A nice family adopted her. It was a good match all the way around.”
“Thanks for telling me,” I said. Leonard got up and started to head down the hall. “Wait!” I called after him. I opened my sketchbook and looked at the drawings of Izzie. I quickly reviewed them, and almost had to kick myself again for being selfish. I wanted to keep the best one for myself, but I forced myself to tear it from the book. “Here,” I said, handing it to Leonard. “Do you think it would be possible to give Izzie’s new family this picture of her?”
Leonard studied the drawing. “I’m sure they’ll be honored and thrilled to have this,” he said.
I met some great dogs during the next three hours, but I realized I was holding something back, as if I was afraid of getting too attached to one of them.
When my shift was over, I practically collided with Meredith in the doorway—again. Another déjà vu.
“We meet again,” I said. I thought I was rather funny, but Meredith just barreled past me. Whatever.
At least Elvis was happy to see me. Once we got back to the apartment building after our walk, we took the elevator to the fourth floor. The doors were just starting to open when Elvis bolted, galloping down the hallway.
“Elvis!” I cried, running after him. I stopped when I saw what had him so excited. He was licking a little white curly-haired dog. A bichon frise.
“Boris?” I asked.
“Yes! It’s Boris! I just got him back,” Ted said.
“That’s great! I’m so happy for you. When did you get him back?” I asked.
“Only about an hour ago.” Ted picked Boris up. “I was just taking him for a little walk. I’m never letting him out of my sight again. Unless, of course, it’s with a responsible dog walker like you.”
“Will he let me pick him up?” I asked.
“Of course. He’s as gentle and compliant as they get.”
I picked up the white ball of fluff named Boris and cuddled him. He was absolutely adorable. He even smelled cute.
“He smells like you just gave him a lavender bath,” I said, rubbing my nose in his neck.
“He is rather spotless, now that you mention it. He doesn’t seem to be affected by what happened, either. He’s calm and happy.”
“Where was he? How did you get him back?” I asked.
Suddenly Ted, who’d been chatty and relaxed just a moment ago, was in an ultra rush. He scooped Boris out of my arms. “Oh, that doesn’t matter,” he said hurriedly. “The important thing is that he’s back. Gotta go!” he called, heading toward the elevator.
Was I imagining it, or was he avoiding my question?
CHAPTER 15
MOM HELPED ME work out dog details over the weekend. She finished prescreening all my clients—the human clients—and took me to meet each dog and its owner. Archie and Elvis were the only ones getting a walk every weekday. But I had plenty of other dogs on all the other days; some were just once a week, some twice, and others three times a week.
“I hope you can still fit me into your busy afterschool schedule,” Lily said on Wednesday morning, looking down at the calendar Mom had helped me set up. “Let’s see, I can squeeze yo
u in right after school, but I’ve got Archie, Sadie, and Otis this afternoon, too. Not to mention Elvis.”
“Wow. How many canine clients do you have now?” Lily said, trying to make sense of the rather complicated schedule I had. Each day had the names of the dogs who needed walks, and each dog had an entry with the owner’s name, address, phone number, and what kind of exercise the dog needed. “Is Elvis going to be able to keep up with you?”
“It’s a myth that bassets are lazy and fat. They actually have incredible endurance. Elvis could walk twenty miles a day if he had his way. He has no problem keeping up. In fact, you might have a problem keeping up with him.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “I’ll meet you at your locker,” she said, fishing a Metro bus ticket out of her pocket and then stuffing it back in again.
After school and two bus rides, Lily and I dropped our things in Piper’s apartment and took Elvis down the hall to pick up Sadie, a cocker spaniel. Next stop was Archie’s.
“We need to pick up one more after this. You can take two dogs and I’ll take two dogs,” I said.
We went and got Otis, a gray miniature schnauzer from the same building where Archie lived. We took the dogs to the path by the canal first, so they could sniff and do their business. Then Lily wanted to walk around the shops, so we headed back.
The dogs took a communal drink at the dog bowl in front of Joe’s and The Perfect Pet.
“Is that store ever open?” asked Lily, nodding toward the “Closed” sign in the window of The Perfect Pet.
“Of course it’s open. Sometimes, that is,” I read the sign with its hours. “It just doesn’t appear to be open when it says it will be.”
“Let’s take all the dogs home and then see what kind of snack food your mom bought,” Lily said.
I was about to tell her that my mom’s idea of junk food these days wasn’t exactly in line with the needs of two hungry girls, but I didn’t get a chance to say anything.
“She’s gone!” a woman screamed. “She … just … disappeared.”
CHAPTER 16
ABOUT A HALF-dozen people gathered around the woman outside a store called London’s. I had to stand back a bit because I had a dog—or two—with me. Unfortunately, the woman who screamed didn’t have a dog with her. That was the problem.
“I just went back to my car to get my glasses out of the glove compartment. I left Daphne right here because she seemed so content,” the woman said, practically hyperventilating. “When I came back, she was gone. I called for her a few times, but someone must have taken her. Her leash is gone, too.”
Elvis barked, which startled everyone. He pulled at the leash, wanting to go down Thirty-fourth Street. He somehow signaled Archie and the other two to start pulling as well. I held my ground.
“Excuse me,” I said through the crowd. “What kind of dog is Daphne? We can help you look for her.”
“She’s a pom-poo—you know, a Pomeranian-poodle mix.”
I could sort of imagine what a dog like that might look like, but not exactly. “Do you have a picture?” I asked.
“Of course,” the woman said. She pulled a photo out of her wallet. Mack, the old guy in the bowler hat, took it from her. He looked intently at the photo, nodding. He passed the photo to the next person, and it finally made its way to Lily and me. A little brown speck of a dog was pictured with a shopping-mall Santa. “Daphne is about eight pounds. She’s tan with dark brown markings. She has a brown spot around one eye and a brown tip on one ear. She’s absolutely adorable. Oh, what am I going to do? I need to stay here in case she comes back, but I need to look for her, too.”
“Oh, Jennifer, this is so horrible. Just like when Boris disappeared,” a man said.
“Boris made it back safely, though,” Lily said.
“We can help you look right now,” I offered.
The woman looked at me skeptically. I told her I’d made the flyer for Ted and that I’d be happy to do the same for her. She gave me another skeptical look.
“I know Ted offered a big reward,” she said. “Even though she means the world to me, I’m not sure I can do that.”
“I don’t think reward money will be necessary,” Mack said.
“But it couldn’t hurt,” Lily added.
The woman wrote down her name and phone number for me, and I handed her my card.
There was a chorus in the background of people calling for Daphne.
“Daaaa-phneee! Daaaa-phneee!”
“Heeeere, Daphne! Come here, girl!”
“What if she’s trapped somewhere?” Lily whispered. “We’d probably hear her bark or whimper,” I said.
I had a feeling I’d be making another flyer that night.
CHAPTER 17
TWO MISSING DOGS in less than two weeks. A coincidence? I don’t think so. There were too many things in common. Both were little dogs. Portable dogs. Each weighed less than ten pounds. Someone could pick either one up and tuck it under a coat or into a bag and just walk away. Someone could even run away because the dogs were so small.
Each time the owner had been just steps away from the scene of the crime. Conceivably, the dog owners could have come back at any time, interrupting the crime. Unless the dognapper knew the owners’ habits so well that the dognapper could anticipate how long the owner would be gone.
I wanted to know more about pom-poos. After Lily and I ate all the soy nuts and pears in the house, she headed home and I headed for my laptop.
Pom-poos are sometimes called pomapoos or pooranians. This mixed breed was half toy poodle and half Pomeranian. Crossing dogs with poodles seemed to be getting more and more popular. Last summer I’d taken care of a wonderful Labrador/poodle mix—a labradoodle—named Mango. In the small dog world, people were going poo crazy. There were yorkie-poos (Yorkie and poodle), shih-poos (shih tzu and poodle), schnoodles (miniature schnauzer and poodle), cock-apoo (cocker spaniel and poodle), and many other dogs with a “poo” tacked onto their mix. I was momentarily distracted by a Web site that advertised “Designer Dogs,” where people were offering chugs (chihuhua and pug mix) and pugles (pug and beagle mix).
Designer dogs? I flashed back to the college-aged girls I’d overheard at the sushi restaurant. They’d been talking about choosing a dog based on what color would look best with their outfits. “Brown is the new black,” one had said. They’d also said they were shopping for dogs on the Internet, as if the dogs were shoes you’d order from an online store.
Designer dogs also made me think of celebrities carrying small dogs around as if the dog were a fashion accessory. It turns out that there are dog fashions just like there are clothing fashions. When I was little, dalmatians were all the rage because of a movie (I think you can guess which one) featuring the white dogs with black spots. A few years later, pugs were superpopular based on a movie with a pug named Frank. Chihuahuas and teacup dogs all became popular because of movies, TV, or celebrities.
Now there was a booming business of shifty people selling little dogs on the Internet. You could buy a dog without ever meeting it. The dog would then be put on a plane and sent to you. I could see that there was some serious money in dealing little puppies. But would people pay as much for a full-grown dog? Pugnapping seemed to be a popular endeavor for crooked canine thieves. If you have a pug, you can’t even leave him or her in your front yard to romp freely because someone could reach over the fence, pass the pug to a partner in a pickup, then speed away.
Boris and Daphne were even more portable than pugs. They had a high price on their heads if sold. And, of course, there was the substantial reward money Ted had offered for Boris’s safe return.
It was getting late, especially for a school night. Mom was still downtown working at Wired Café. A beep told me I had a new e-mail. It was from Ben. I had given him my e-mail address so he could let me know about any potential clients he might have for me.
Did you hear that another dog is missing?
My grandpa says it’s a littl
e white Pomeranian named Daphne. You should make another flyer. If you want, that is. Scooter says “hi.”
See you later.
Ben.
I had had a feeling I would be making another flyer, but so far Daphne’s owner hadn’t called me. I checked my cell phone to make sure it was on. But guess what? It wasn’t.
I had fourteen new messages. Only one of them was from Jennifer.
CHAPTER 18
“EVERYBODY THINKS I have something to do with it!” I whined to mom when she finally got home.
“I doubt that’s true. Why don’t you let me listen to the messages?”
I handed my cell phone over to her. She took notes as she listened to each message.
“Well—” she started to say.
“They think, since we’re new in the neighborhood, that I’m using my dog-walking business as a cover to get close to the dogs,” I said.
“I’m not sure that’s true …” Mom said.
“Then why did all my Thursday and Friday clients cancel?”
“They didn’t all cancel. You still have Archie. And Elvis, of course.”
“But the others? They don’t think they can trust me,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was mad or sad. Both, I decided. I was definitely mad that people would jump to conclusions, and I was sad that those conclusions implicated me as having something to do with the two missing dogs.
Okay, so no one came right out and said: “We’ve seen you around the neighborhood with dogs that aren’t yours. You seemed to appear right about the time that the dognappings started. You obviously have something to do with it, and we absolutely cannot trust you with our pets.”
“Hannah, listen to me,” Mom interrupted the tirade in my head. “People are just saying they’re worried about their dogs. They sounded genuinely concerned for you, as well. If someone is really dognapping these dogs, they certainly don’t want a young girl to be in the middle of it. After listening to those messages, I don’t want you in the middle of it, either. You could get hurt.”