Dog Show Disaster

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Dog Show Disaster Page 14

by Missy Robertson


  Mr. Langley pointed two index fingers back at me. “Highly unlikely, Miss Carroway. Especially when the booth is named “The Lewis-Beetle Cure.”

  Miss Lewis would win—no doubt. My brother Cody even promised to travel home from college to throw a few pies.

  “Bring all your money,” I had told him over the phone.

  “Open the envelope, Allie!” Hunter jumped up and down behind me.

  “Yeah, the suspense is killing us.” Kendall reached over and tried to take the envelope, but I pulled it back.

  “Really, people? Suspense? Are you kidding me?”

  The only suspense for me was wondering if my landslide victory margin would be greater than when I was elected SPM.

  I opened the envelope, and pulled out a single piece of paper.

  The word at the top was in all caps:

  UNANIMOUS.

  And then there were two names:

  Miss Lewis

  Allie Carroway

  I turned back toward my cousins. “Unanimous? I certainly didn’t think it would be unanimous! Did you two vote for me?”

  Hunter shrugged. “It was for Mini-Mellon, Allie.”

  Kendall backed up, eyes wide. “You wanted to be in the tank, right?”

  And then both of my cousins took off running, with their dogs, toward the big white tent in the center of the carnival.

  “Oh, you are sooooo dead when I catch you!” I yelled.

  I turned, and Miss Lewis had her hand out, ready to shake mine.

  “Good work, Carroway. This will be a year-end project to remember.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Bark Fest

  The carnival and all the dog show activities cranked away with record crowds from 10:00 a.m. until 1:30 p.m. People ate tons of food from the various food booths, bought all of Lola’s crafts, lined up to play in the game booths—even the silly Carroway ones—and they just about cleared out everything from Mamaw’s bake sale. Mr. Doonsberry and his Lunker Law boat were set up at the north end of the carnival grounds, and a line of people wrapped all the way around to get autographs and selfies with Mr. Doonsberry, and to take pictures of themselves in the boat. Ruby ran the dog show all morning like a champ. It was fun to see the excitement on the faces of kids walking their dogs around the grounds with different color award ribbons hanging from their necks.

  The “Spectacular Dog Trick Competition” was about to begin.

  Ruby’s cute voice rang out on the loudspeaker. “All those who registered for the dog trick competition, please proceed to the east side of the white tent for check-in. All others please find a seat in the grandstand. The contest will start in thirty minutes!”

  I reached down to pet my little fur ball. “Sorry I didn’t have time to teach you anything, Hazel Mae. But maybe you can help me out later . . .”

  “Allie! Have you seen Parker?” Hunter ran up to me, all out of breath.

  I looked out in the distance, and no—I didn’t see Parker. I did see his big horse-dog, and a bobbing head behind it that was probably Parker.

  I pointed over Hunter’s shoulder.

  “I think he’s coming.”

  Hunter turned, yelled, “Goliath is here!” and then ran to meet his trick partners.

  My mom came up behind me and put her arm around my shoulders. “Well, Allie, it looks like this year-end project turned out okay after all. I’m glad you didn’t let your enemies get the best of you.”

  That reminded me. I hadn’t see Madison all day.

  Of all people, I would expect her to be here, soaking up all the attention.

  Mom and I walked over to the tent, and sat in a reserved seat in the front row of the grandstand. As soon as the Dog Trick Spectacular was over, I was scheduled to pull the name of the winner of who would be appearing with us on the Lunker Law meets Carried Away with the Carroways episode. We would also be introducing Mr. Felix, who would accept a big cardboard check with the estimated amount raised for the animal shelter.

  But first, it was an hour of hilarity watching the dogs of West Monroe perform.

  First, we had the Frisbee flyers—with Uncle Saul leading the way. Dogs of all shapes and sizes chased the Frisbees, and they were so cute—especially this one little white bulldog who got tired and lay down in the middle of the crowd—his feet sprawled out behind him. His owner—one of our school football players—had to come and drag him off.

  Since most of the dogs could jump but couldn’t catch, Ruby’s dog, Max, won that contest—hands down. His prize was a golden Frisbee (not real gold, of course).

  Next came the “real” competition, and the dogs did not disappoint. Quite a few performed routines with rolls and jumps, walking on hind legs and barking on command. Lola’s dog, Monet, held a paintbrush in her mouth and crafted a masterpiece. I don’t have any idea what the picture was supposed to be—but if you placed it in an art gallery tomorrow, people would flock to it and call it a classic.

  Rachel Long’s Chiweenies performed a comedy act—at least that’s what it turned out to be. She had dressed them up like hot dogs—with bun costumes—and they ran around with empty ketchup and mustard dispensers in their mouths, jumping up on people’s laps—but mostly barking.

  Ellie and Kendall even entered the competition. Kendall played the guitar, and Ellie sat up on a stool—with daisies clipped up above her ears—and barked a short song.

  I think it was the beginning of the Parker love song, and when their act was finished, I formed a little heart with my fingers. Kendall saw me, blushed, and put a hand over her face.

  The final trick of the show was next. The elephant and the mouse.

  Parker, Hunter, and T-Rex walked in, crouched behind Chief. Then they popped out from behind him, and Hunter began his announcement.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, some of you may have heard from your students that my dog T-Rex here had some trouble performing the famous Carroway Catapult. Well, that is no longer. All he needed was the right partner. So, now—for your enjoyment—sit back and be amazed as Chief and T-Rex perform—The David and Goliath!

  Suspenseful music began playing in the background as Parker dragged out a mini-trampoline and Hunter grabbed a hula-hoop. Then Hunter placed T-Rex on Chief’s back!

  Oh, no.

  I put my hands over my eyes, but parted them a bit so I could see. Chief began to run around the circle in the middle of the tent. He slowed a few times when T-Rex looked like he was going to fall off.

  The crowd laughed.

  As soon as T-Rex regained his footing, Chief started running faster. The third time around the circle, Chief had really picked up speed—which surprised me.

  This trick could really end with T-Rex on the moon.

  Chief ran around the circle again, but this time changed his direction at the end and pointed toward the mini-tramp.

  Mom reached over and squeezed my hand, her eyes wide.

  Chief finally made it within three feet of the trampoline, and jumped.

  The crowd gasped.

  Will that thing hold him?

  It did, and when he bounced on it, T-Rex flew off his back—not quite to the moon—but at least eight feet up and five feet over. His little legs flipped around in the air. At that point, Parker raised the hoop up, and T-Rex dropped right through!

  And Hunter—with a huge smile on his face—caught Doggy-Short-Legs, much to the delight of the crowd.

  It was a “Standing O” moment—with thunderous applause that lasted several minutes—which made it pretty obvious who would win first prize at the Ouachita Middle School Spectacular Dog Trick Competition.

  CHAPTER 30

  Dunks & Pies

  During the prize ceremony, I checked my phone for two things: the amount donated through Madison’s FriendClips page, and the amount being pledged on the Carried Away with the Carroways live feed.

  We were almost to fifty-thousand dollars! Goosebumps broke out all over my head, shoulders, and arms.

  Thank you,
God.

  Mr. Langley was giving a speech, but I had trouble being still for that. I just wanted to turn a few cartwheels to get rid of some energy.

  Mom nudged me with her elbow. “I think it’s your turn to get up there.”

  Mr. Langley must have called for me, because the crowd was silent, and he and Miss Lewis were standing up there waiting for something.

  I jumped up and ran to the front. Miss Lewis handed me a microphone.

  “Seems we still have to work on your punctuality, Carroway.”

  I faced the crowd, and the goosebumps came back. I had dreamed of this day for two years. And yes, most of the last two months had been a nightmare, but this . . . this is what it was all about.

  I called for Mr. Felix to join us, and as he did, Jared Strickland and Paige Wright brought up the big check. It was for $50,000.

  I did my best to speak, even though I had a big lump in my throat.

  “Thank you, Ouachita Middle School, for your time, your support, and your generosity. I love living in this community, and one of my favorite places to visit is our local animal shelter. It’s already the best one around, but with the funds that have been raised through your efforts, it will now be even better!”

  Everyone in the crowd clapped as Jared and Paige handed Mr. Felix the check. Mr. Felix beamed, shook everyone’s hand, put his hand to his heart, and bowed to the crowd. Then he dragged the check off, and Jared, Paige, and Mr. Langley followed. That left me and Miss Lewis to conduct the drawing, and to announce the “victims” that would soon be pied and dunked—as if anyone wondered.

  Miss Lewis walked off to the side and pushed in a barrel on wheels that had the names of everyone who had donated at least two-hundred dollars in goods or services. The thing was full. I had to give Madison credit for that.

  But, where was she?

  “Okay, people—can you give me a drumroll?” The audience slapped their hands on their laps, and Miss Lewis turned the barrel round and round. Finally, she stopped it, and opened the little door so I could shove my hand in.

  I pulled out a folded slip of paper, and my hands shook a little.

  “The winner of our drawing will make a cameo appearance on a special show that combines both Lunker Law and Carried Away with the Carroways. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  The crowd clapped some more.

  “And the winner is . . .”

  I opened the paper and stared at the name.

  Seriously.

  I could hardly make my mouth say it.

  “Saul Carroway.”

  Uncle Saul jumped up from the back of the grandstand.

  “Yes!” he pumped his fists up and down and yelled, “I love Lunker Law! That guy’s hilarious!”

  All my aunts and uncles in the front row shook their heads. Uncle Wayne stood up and held his palms to the sky.

  “But, Uncle Saul, you’re already going to be on this show!”

  “I am?”

  “Saul,” Aunt Kassie said. “You’re on all the shows.”

  Uncle Saul scratched his head. “I guess you’re right.”

  It was another awkward moment, but I was starting to get used to them.

  “Well,” Miss Lewis said, “Since he did donate, and we picked his name—he’s the winner. Perhaps we should let him choose someone he’d like to invite on the show.”

  I was going to ask the crowd what they thought, but then I figured, hey—I’m the Student Project Manager—so maybe I should act like it.

  “Saul, is there an OMS student you’d like to be on the show?”

  Saul came down to stand by me. “Yes, there is. I’d like to pick that kid over there—Joey Sanger. We stood in the Lunker Law line for an hour together, and I’m telling ya—he’s a true fan!”

  Joey—my friend since kindergarten who had done nothing but talk about the Lunker Law boat for the last two months—came down from the grandstand, weaving side-to-side—looking like he was going to faint.

  “I-I’m gonna be on TV?”

  “Yes,” I said, “you are.”

  He grinned ear-to-ear.

  “I’m glad I voted for you, Allie.”

  Yeah, I bet you voted for me. Both times!

  The rest of the ceremony was anti-climactic after the Uncle Saul mix-up. As soon as I announced that it would be me in the Dimple-Dunk 5000 and Miss Lewis in the Lewis-Beetle Pie Booth, people tore out of the tent and began to line up to take their shots.

  The lines were even longer than the one for the Lunker Law boat!

  “Maybe we’ll pay off Bethany’s medical bills and cover her college tuition,” Miss Lewis said.

  “Game on,” I said.

  I think we used up all the whipped cream in West Monroe that day. Miss Lewis tried not to smile when her former students wound up and threw pies at her. She heckled them mercilessly when they missed.

  “That’s one out of four, you slacker! If I remember right, you scored 25% on all your tests too! I dare you to try again!” And they shelled out another ten bucks and jumped back in line.

  She threatened the current students. “Hit me with that pie, and expect tons of homework next week!” It didn’t stop anybody. They shelled out their parents’ bucks and jumped back in line.

  “Where are people getting all this money?” I yelled. I heard Miss Lewis start to answer, but them some wise guy hit the alligator target and sent me ker-splashing into the Dimple-Dunk 5000. I held my breath and swam around, giving people evil stares from the other side of the window.

  So this was what fish in aquariums felt like.

  At one point, I yelled over to Mom to bring Hazel Mae in the Dunker with me.

  “She loves to swim,” I said.

  As soon as I had her with me, people started missing the target. I think they were distracted by her cute little face, and her fake sneezing.

  It didn’t matter to me. We collected ten dollars for Mini-Mellon whether they hit the target or not.

  At the one-hour mark, I checked out my fingers. They were wrinkled up like raisins.

  “We’re at $5,000 already!” Mr. Langley hollered over from the table where the huge money bottle was filling up. “People are putting in more than we’re asking!”

  “Hey—I didn’t spend the last ten years making my students mad for nothin’,” Miss Lewis said.

  The next one up in her line was my brother Cody. He’d rolled in from college that afternoon.

  “Hey, bro! How come you’re not in my line?”

  Cody balanced a pie in his hand and closed one eye to aim at Miss Lewis.

  “I can always pick on you. But right now, it’s payback time!”

  Miss Lewis laughed. “Payback? For what? Straightening you up?”

  Cody chucked the pie, and it hit Miss Lewis right on the nose.

  “Yeah! That’s for straightening me up! And the next one will be for forcing me to work hard.”

  “I bet you can’t even afford another pie,” Miss Lewis yelled.

  “Stay tuned, I’m coming back around a few more times.”

  Cody threw in thirty bucks and ran to the back of the line.

  “This is too easy, Carroway.” Miss Lewis licked some cream off her upper lip. “And I’m going to have baby soft skin when this is over.”

  Right as she said that, someone hit my target, and I ker-splashed again—this time with Hazel Mae. She barked and sneezed and doggy-paddled around the top of the water while I tried to grab on to the ladder to take me back up to my perch. I laughed so hard, I almost peed in the Dimple-Dunk 5000, which would have made it the Dimple-Dunk 5001.

  The next hour zipped by, and people were still in line.

  “I didn’t know we had so many ‘fans’,” I said.

  Mr. Langley came over and shook his head. “We have to cut this off at some point.”

  But Miss Lewis and I just looked at each other and grinned.

  “No way,” I said.

  “We’ll cut it off when they’re out of money,” Miss Lewis
added.

  And that took two more hours.

  CHAPTER 31

  A Dog-Shaped Hole

  The next morning at church, my fingers were still raisin-like. But it was worth it—even if they stayed like that forever—because we raised a little over $10,000 for the Mini-Mellon fund. Right after church, we visited the Mellons to give them the good news.

  “Well, the tenth-anniversary year-end project didn’t happen quite how I planned.” Mrs. Mellon sat in the lounge of the hospital, squeezing a little teddy bear. “But in a way, this is so much better.”

  “I can’t believe all the support we got from everyone in the community,” I said. “And the steering committee really stepped up—even after that whole petition thing.”

  “I knew they’d come around,” Mrs. Mellon brushed a little tear from her cheek. “Deep down, I think everyone knows what a caring person you are, Allie.”

  Not everyone.

  But I was still working on that.

  “Okay, let her know you’re here, Hazel Mae.”

  I grabbed Hazel Mae’s paw and pushed it on the doorbell.

  A few seconds later, Madison Doonsberry opened her front door.

  She was wearing casual clothes. Tan shorts, and a light blue tank top. Her hair was gathered up in a high ponytail—and no bracelets on this Sunday afternoon.

  “Oh. Hello, Hazel Mae,” Madison said. “Are you wanting to use the backyard?”

  I stifled a laugh.

  “Not today,” I said.

  “Then how can I help you?”

  Lord, I hope this works.

  “Well, we wanted to get your opinion on something.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You want my opinion?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Mr. Felix is trying to find homes for a few of his dogs so he can make room in the shelter while they’re remodeling. He wasn’t sure what to do with one particular dog, so I asked if I could bring it over here to see what you thought.”

  Madison rolled her eyes, and stepped out from the door.

 

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