Dog Walker

by Karen Spafford-Fitz

  Just then, my cell phone rings. I decide to ignore it.

  “I’ve got a lot of things on, Mom.” “Why does this worry me?”

  Dad comes into the kitchen. He’s holding two slips of paper. “Here are a couple of phone messages, Turk.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Mom gives me a funny look. “You’re not up to something, are you?”

  “Of course not. At least not what you’re probably thinking.”

  “And what are we probably thinking?”

  “That I’m up to something shady.”

  “Or stupid. Or immoral,” Mom adds.

  I smile. “I have a new business.”

  Mom still looks suspicious.

  Dad clears his throat. “What kind of business?”

  “Dog walking. Like how I walked Gretzky last week. Only with my friends too.”

  I tell Mom and Dad about the ads I’ve posted around town and about hiring some guys to help out. For obvious reasons, I leave out the part about meeting girls. When I’m done, they look pretty impressed.

  “Sounds like you’ve hit on a good business venture,” Dad says. “Honest money for honest work. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “I had to do something. Remember that small matter about my allowance getting cut off?” I check their faces for signs of guilt. Nothing.

  “Just one question, Turk,” Mom says. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

  Mom must have read another parenting article. I can almost see the headline: Getting Your Teen to Open Up to You.

  “Well, er...I wanted to get my business running before I said anything. And,” I put on my most innocent face, “I had this crazy idea you might think my business was something shady, stupid or immoral.”

  I can’t tell for sure, but I think Mom and Dad almost look ashamed.

  Yes!

  Dad clears his throat again. “If there’s anything we can do to help, let us know.”

  Actually, there is something. Do any of your friends have dogs that need to be walked? I could add them to my customer list. Maybe even walk Gretzky again.”

  Dad nods. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Dad must have flexed his vice president muscles at work. Along with the people who saw my ads, a bunch of Dad’s employees are now on my list. My business has taken off faster than I thought it would. And everyone is happy.

  Mom and Dad are happy that I’m working. I’m happy that the cash is rolling in. And my friends are happy that they’re connecting with way more girls than usual.

  “Turk, I got a phone number from this girl I met at the market on Saturday,” Justin says. “She loves Axel the black lab. We’re seeing a movie together on the weekend.”

  “Man! You gotta send me out with Pepper again,” Kyle says. “Lisa from the Hub Mall says he’s just adorable.”

  “Please tell me that Bogart needs a walk this weekend,” Jonathan begs. “I’ve gotta cross paths again with Jessica. She loved Bogart!”

  Even though the guys are totally enthused about the business, I’m learning quickly that there are some dogs they just don’t want to walk. Especially Rowdy.

  Rowdy belongs to Mrs. Nielsen, a lady who does shift work. According to Mrs. Nielsen, her two-year-old yellow lab was rowdy when she first got him, and he still is. Man, she’s not kidding about that!

  All of the guys complained that he scared away the girls. He’s just too rowdy. He jumps up on anyone who comes near. So guess who ends up walking Rowdy? Me. Definitely not what I had in mind.

  The bigger surprise though—thanks to Rowdy—is that my own love life takes a turn for the better.

  It starts the first time I take Rowdy for a walk. It’s Saturday afternoon and Rowdy is bouncing from one side of me to the other.

  “Sorry about that,” I say to an alarmed- looking woman. Rowdy has just lunged hard toward her. For about the tenth time, he’s almost pulled my arms out of their sockets.

  “He’s really friendly,” I say as she steps away from us. “Too friendly, really.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

  Right now, Rowdy and I are cruising across the university campus toward the physed building. We’re almost at that big yellow gym called the Butterdome when a voice calls from behind me.

  “Turk?”

  I look up and nearly trip over Rowdy.

  “Carly?”

  As usual, Carly looks like she’s been running. Her hair is in a ponytail, and she’s breathing a bit hard. As she gets closer, I read her T-shirt. It says something about a race in Banff. Even with a sweaty T-shirt and a red face, Carly looks terrific.

  Why haven’t I noticed that before? Rowdy interrupts my thoughts by pulling hard on his leash. I hang on as Rowdy tries to lunge toward the dog that Carly is holding beside her.

  “Sorry about that,” I say.

  “It’s okay,” Carly says. “Buddy usually likes other dogs.”

  “Buddy?”

  “Yeah.” Carly smiles down at her dog and pats his head. “Buddy isn’t the most original name for a dog. But it made sense when I got him.”

  “Oh. Uh, why’s that?”

  “I got Buddy just after Dad moved away four years ago. Mom was a wreck. My brother, Matt, was too wrapped up in his girlfriend and his football team to notice. So I got Buddy. I needed one right then. A buddy, I mean.”

  I should say something. But as usual, my voice doesn’t work well in front of a good-looking girl. And it’s hitting me good and hard that that’s exactly what Carly is.

  “Er, what kind of dog is Buddy?” I finally choke out.

  “I’m not sure. I got Buddy from the Humane Society. He was abandoned when he was a puppy. The Humane Society people think he’s part German shepherd and part lab. Maybe part husky too.”

  Carly shrugs her shoulders, then turns to Rowdy. “Who’s this?”

  “Rowdy. Guess how he got his name?”

  Carly laughs as Rowdy tries to start a wrestling match with Buddy.

  “Rowdy belongs to a lady in our neighborhood. She works these crazy shifts and can’t always walk him. Rowdy has tons of energy, so she hired me to walk him.”

  I can’t resist trying to impress Carly. “Rowdy’s part of my dog-walking business. I’ve hired my friends to walk most of the dogs. But I walk Rowdy myself.”

  Rowdy bounces even higher when he hears his name.

  “A dog-walking business. Cool.” Carly smiles and I nearly melt.

  Think of something to say, Turk!

  “We’d better keep going,” Carly says. “Buddy and I just finished a run and we’re on our way home. See you Monday.”

  She takes off down the sidewalk with Buddy beside her.

  “Yeah, see you,” I mutter.

  That’s when it hits me. I should have offered to walk her and Buddy home! Next time, I’ll be ready!

  chapter seven

  As it turns out, I don’t have to wait until Monday to talk to Carly again.

  “It’s for you—as usual,” Mom says, handing me the phone the next morning.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Turk. It’s Carly.”

  A hot red blush covers my face. I turn away so Mom won’t notice.

  “Turk, I got this idea after I saw you.”

  Yeah, I got a few ideas myself!

  “Er...what idea is that?” I ask.

  “I’ve been training for a race. It’s Saturday morning in Calgary. Mom and I are leaving Friday at noon and we need someone to walk Buddy Friday night.”

  “What about your brother?”

  I could kick myself the minute the words spill out of my big stupid mouth.

  “Matt says he’s too busy studying for an exam. Can you walk Buddy Friday night? Mom will pay you.”

  Of course I’d agree to anything Carly wants.

  “Sure thing, Carly.” I write down her address. “Will your brother be home then?”

  “Yeah. He’ll have Buddy ready for you.” “Okay.” I scribble into my calendar. “I’ve scheduled Bu
ddy in for Friday night at seven o’clock.”

  “Thanks, Turk. And one more thing. You said that your friends walk most of your customers’ dogs, right?”

  “Right. Leo and Kyle and some of the guys.”

  Carly’s quiet for a moment. “I need to ask a favor. Those guys—I know they’re all right. But could you please walk Buddy yourself? So I know he’s in good hands. Can you do that for me?”

  Anything!

  “No problem. Buddy and me—we’ll have fun walking together Friday night. I’ll take good care of him.”

  “I know you will, Turk. Thanks again.”

  I hang up the phone and pump my fist into the air. “Yes!”

  “What’s that all about?”

  I jump. I forgot that Mom was still here.

  “Oh nothing. Just business, you know. Another happy customer.”

  I smile, and then bounce out of the kitchen.

  I catch up with Leo and the guys at lunchtime on Monday.

  “Did you schedule me in for prime time this week, Turk? Friday night? Saturday night maybe?” Justin asks.

  “Yeah, what about me? Any calls about the basset hound?” Brad pushes his glasses back up on his nose. “The girls were all over Basil last week.”

  “Hey, I get the basset hound this time,” Kyle elbows him. “I already told Turk I wanted him.”

  “Basil’s no better than Cyril. You know— the great Dane?” Jonathan says. “Girls from far and wide wanted to pat Cyril last weekend.”

  “I could do without Tex this week,” Kyle says. “Unless his owner has given him a bath. Tex doesn’t have much appeal.”

  “Yeah, nobody came close to Tex last week either,” Justin says. “What’s the point?”

  “What do you mean, ‘what’s the point’?” I glare at Justin.

  Justin’s face turns redder than his hair. “You know,” he says. “Tex doesn’t stir up interest. It’s not his fault or anything.”

  Kyle jumps in. “He just doesn’t pull in the girls like the cuter dogs do.”

  “Yeah. Remember why we’re doing this, Turk,” Jonathan says.

  “Maybe you should remind me.”

  “Hello! To meet girls!” Justin says.

  “Yeah, Turk. What are you getting so uptight about?”

  I don’t answer. Instead, I shove a schedule into everyone’s hand.

  “What’s with him?” Kyle mutters.

  I don’t really know myself. All I know is that Carly’s words about Buddy keep running through my head. How Buddy helped see her through a bad time and how special he is. Maybe the other dog owners feel that way about their dogs too. The dogs we’ve just spent part of our lunch rating for how well they attract girls.

  I don’t say anything for the rest of the lunch period. When the bell rings, everyone stands up to leave. Except me.

  Leo’s partway out the cafeteria door when he sees that I’m still sitting at the table.

  “You coming, Turk?”

  “Yeah. I guess.” It feels like I weigh a ton as I pull myself up from the table. I follow my friends down the hall.

  chapter eight

  I’m at my locker on Wednesday when the week takes a turn for the better.

  “Have you been walking Rowdy much lately?” Carly asks.

  “Yeah, a bit. I’m walking him tomorrow night again.”

  Then I remember what I wished I’d said on Saturday.

  “Carly?”

  “Yeah?”

  I swallow hard. “I’m picking Rowdy up at seven o’clock tomorrow night. If you and Buddy were maybe going for a walk, Rowdy and I could swing by your place first. We could grab a Coke or something.”

  Carly gives me this sweet smile, straight into my face, and I almost keel over. “That’d be great, Turk. I train at the university after school. But I’ll still have time to shower and eat dinner before you come over.”

  Then Carly stops, red-faced, as though she just realized she’s been babbling. The truth is I could listen to her babble all day.

  Suddenly I realize that someone else is listening too.

  “A date. How sweet.”

  I glance over my shoulder at Chuck. He has a bodybuilding magazine propped open in his locker. He’s admiring himself in the mirror as he copies the poses in the magazine. Chuck turns to Carly. “So you said yes to the Turk Man?”

  “We’re walking our dogs together. Okay?”

  “How sweet. Walking your puppies together. Puppy love...”

  “Listen, you jerk. I happen to have a dog-walking business. It’s my job, okay?” I glance sideways at Carly. I love the way she’s looking at me while I’m laying into Chuck. “So don’t sweat it that Carly and I are—”

  Then I stop. I’ve said enough. Or maybe too much. I shut up before I say anything else about the business.

  Time to change the subject—fast!

  “Don’t you have laundry to do, Chuck? Or maybe some food to stuff into your face?”

  “Oh yeah! Time for some more protein!” Chuck pulls out a half-empty box of energy bars from under a pile of dirty sweat socks.

  “Yuck!” Carly cringes as we take off for first class.

  Then I start wishing that I hadn’t mentioned my business to Chuck. But with Carly walking beside me down the hall, I have better things to think about. There’s no harm done anyway. Chuck was probably so busy flexing in front of his mirror that he’s forgotten about my dog-walking business already.

  So then my thoughts start going more like this: Right on, Turk! You actually asked her. And, she said yes!

  After school I check in with the guys at Leo’s locker.

  “Everyone’s still okay with the schedule for the week?”

  “No, there’s a problem. Justin went home sick this morning,” Leo says. “Isn’t he supposed to walk Axel tonight?”

  “Yeah. At seven-thirty. Who can cover him?”

  “I can take Axel, but not until eight o’clock.”

  “Sounds good,” I say. “I’ll phone Axel’s owner and change his time to eight o’clock.”

  I check the schedule once more. “Justin’s on for Friday night too. He’ll probably be better by then. If not, who’s free?”

  No one speaks up.

  “You might be on, boss,” Kyle says.

  I remember that I’m walking Buddy on Friday night. As if I’d forget that!

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Brad asks.

  “I’m walking another dog Friday night.”

  “Is it Rowdy?” Leo asks.

  “No. I only walk Rowdy on Thursday and Sunday this week.”

  “Quit holding out, Turk. Who’s the dog?” Kyle asks.

  “Probably some knockout girl-magnet dog that Turk’s been keeping to himself,” Jonathan laughs.

  “Yeah, like a golden retriever puppy,” Brad says.

  “Or a cute little dalmatian that the girls will fall all over.”

  “You’re all wrong,” I say. “It’s a German shepherd, crossed with black lab, crossed with husky. We think.”

  “Oh.” They look at me blankly.

  Kyle speaks up first. “Doesn’t sound like a top-scorer. Why are you walking that dog?”

  I glare at him before I answer. “He belongs to Carly.”

  No one says anything at first. But then it starts.

  “I get it now,” Leo says.

  “I thought you had your eye on her,” Jonathan says.

  “Good going, Turk!”

  “So it’s Carly, eh?” Kyle elbows me.

  “Hey,” Leo interrupts, “I’ve got some other news you’re all gonna want to hear. We’re invited to a party Saturday night.”

  “Whose party?” Jonathan asks. “Meghan’s.” Leo smiles broadly. “Did you say Meghan? As in your beautiful popular cousin?”

  “That’s the one. My aunt and uncle are throwing Meghan a huge party for her birthday. They told me to invite my friends.”

  Talk about excitement! The comments fly as the gu
ys jostle each other down the hallway.

  As Leo closes his locker, he says, “What’s up, Turk? Aren’t you excited about the party?”

  “I guess. But this business is getting to me. It’s not as much fun as it used to be.”

  “Hmm. It must be tough being the boss. Everyone fighting over the same dogs—the ones that draw the most girls.”

  “It’s not just that,” I say. “It’s how they talk about some of the dogs—like they’re total rejects.”

  “You mean like we used to be? Before we started meeting girls and getting invited to parties—like on Saturday night?”

  I can tell Leo is really pumped about Meghan’s party. He couldn’t wait to swing the conversation back around to it. And really, it’s not like we get invited to parties every day.

  “You’re right, Leo. It’ll be great!”

  Leo nods. “Yeah. Why don’t you invite Carly?”

  A big grin takes over my face. “You know, Leo? I just might do that!”

  Things are definitely looking up.

  chapter nine

  Thursday night takes forever to roll around. But finally, I’m heading out the front door to meet Carly for our walk.

  Mom glances over. “You look nice.” “

  Thanks.”

  She looks at me suspiciously. “Aren’t you walking Rowdy tonight?”

  “Yeah. I’m on my way to pick him up now.” Then I add, “I’m picking up a friend, too. She has a dog. We’re going to walk the dogs together.”

  “Ohhh,” Mom says. “Kind of like...a date?”

  I can see the headline from Mom’s parenting magazine: Communicating with Your Teen About Dating.

  “Does this friend have a name?”

  “Yeah, she does.” I close the close behind me.

  Even through the closed door, I can hear Mom’s voice. “Turk! Turk!”

  I laugh as I race down the driveway.

  By the time I’ve picked up Rowdy and walked to Carly’s house, Carly is waiting outside with Buddy.

  “Hey, Carly.”

  “Hi, Turk. How’s it going, Rowdy?”

  At the sound of his name, Rowdy lunges even harder toward them. Then Buddy dodges between Carly and Rowdy.

  “I think someone’s jealous,” Carly says, nodding at Buddy.

  Carly and I laugh as we untangle Buddy’s and Rowdy’s leashes.