She wouldn’t be able to leave.
It’s the Greatest Idea Ever!
But I have to hurry. She could be back any second.
I’m about to race into the Eating Place when the flaw in my plan hits me like a door in my face.
Her things are on the Wicked Floor.
I’ve faced this situation before. And I did not win.
But the stakes have never been higher. There must be a way!
I dart back and forth in the hallway. How can I force the Wicked Floor to surrender Hattie’s things?
I’m exhausting myself from racing and pacing. But I’m a professional. It’s my life’s work to protect my humans from danger. I can’t let a Wicked Floor keep me from doing my job.
I swipe a paw across its evil surface. It’s smooth and slick as ever, but a dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do.
I plant both paws onto the floor’s gleaming wickedness. Instantly, my brown paw slides away. The white one buckles awkwardly under my chest. I crumple—splat!—across the doorway. “Ouch!” I yelp. “Eee-yowww! Eee-yowww!”
My hind claws dig into the carpeting. I ease myself back out into the safety of the hall. I try to lick the soreness out of my paw. Too bad I can’t lick away what’s really hurting. Hattie is running away without me. I stop mid-lick to growl at the Wicked Floor. “I’ll get you,” I bark. “Somehow.”
Hattie bursts back into the Eating Place as determined as ever. Although judging by the nauseating smell, she lost a battle with the choky spray. She rushes over and collects her bag and rolled-up blanket. She turns and heads out. I hear the back door slide open. She does not say good-bye. She does not even look back.
I race around the corner to the door and peer through the screen.
Hattie climbs up the giant tree. And then . . . she is gone.
Without Hattie, nothing matters. Nothing will ever matter again. I slink down, gazing helplessly out the door. When Food Lady and Fetch Man come back inside, they practically trip over my lifeless body. My muscles wouldn’t move if I bribed them.
Which is apparently what my humans are trying to do. “Fenn-waay,” Food Lady coos, sweet as cream. She strides into the Eating Place, gesturing at my supper dish. Like I could’ve possibly forgotten it’s there.
Fetch Man waves a piece of kibble under my nose. I cannot even bear to sniff it. He presses his hand against my side. As I let out a deep sigh, he smells relieved.
They head into the Lounging Place. I hear the familiar click! and sounds from the Flashing Screen.
Later, Fetch Man comes back and opens the sliding door. “Fenway,” he says, more authoritatively this time. When I don’t bother getting up, he carries me outside and waits until I water one of the bushes.
Through the darkness, we both steal glances at the giant tree. But there’s no sign of her. Just a nasty squirrel skittering along the side fence.
Fetch Man shrugs and brings me back inside. When he closes the door, I press my nose into the screen. As if I’ll suddenly see her climbing down the tree and running back to me. I can’t suppress a whimper.
“Fenway,” Fetch Man says with a sigh. He pulls me away from the door and deposits me in the hallway. Out comes The Gate. The lights go dark. And I am alone.
I’m lying in the hallway for a Very Long Time. Eventually, my eyelids get heavy. I close them for just a second. And then . . .
I’m out in the Dog Park. With the biggest hot dog I’ve ever seen. It’s the size of our car. And it’s glistening with hot-dog-y goodness. Just waiting for me to race over and take a bite.
Wowee! How did I get so lucky? I can’t wait to sink my teeth into it.
I go to chomp one end, but suddenly, the whole hot dog disappears. Hey, where did it go? It’s completely vanished.
I’m searching for it everywhere when over at the fence I see a flicker of pure horror.
Squirrels! Lined up on the fence. More squirrels than I’ve ever seen. They’re enormous. Gigantic. It’s the Scariest Sight Ever!
One very fat, very nasty squirrel leads the pack. His belly is huge and bulging. His teeth are long and fanglike, dripping with squirrely saliva. I can’t look at him without shuddering. He is the definition of evil.
“Chipper, chatter, squawk!” the Evil Squirrel screeches. He scurries down into the Dog Park, and the rest of the pack follows. They’re invading!
A Dog Park is for dogs. I open my mouth to frighten them away, but no sound comes out. What happened to my bark? I’m speechless!
Pretty soon, the Dog Park is completely packed with gigantic squirrels. But they’re not teasing or taunting or daring me to chase them. They don’t even notice me. What’s up with that?
Clearly, they have a plan. The Evil Squirrel scampers over to the giant tree. The others race after him. They shoot up the trunk and into the leafy leaves. They’re headed for the squirrel house.
A shiver runs from my snout to my tail. Hattie is up there. The Evil Squirrel bares his fangs. The others raise their claws. They are about to enter the house. Hattie’s in danger!
A squirrel-y face pops out of the little window, her eyes wide with fear. I know those eyes. It’s Hattie!
She’s turned into a squirrel!
I wince in horror, every hair on my coat shuddering with disgust. My sweet, lovely Hattie, my favorite short human of all, has become one of my mortal enemies!
I gaze out across the Dog Park. Hattie’s eyes are full of terror. She’s trapped. She’s afraid. She needs me.
Squirrel or no squirrel, she’s still Hattie. I’ll never stop loving her.
Especially now that she’s in trouble. Those gigantic squirrels have her surrounded. There’s only one thing to do—I have to save her!
There must be a way. If only I could bark! At least I can run. Or can I? My legs won’t move. Come on, paws. Let’s go!
They will not budge. They must be attached to the ground. It’s worse than being trapped. I’m officially useless.
I can’t just stand here. Time is running out. The pack of gigantic squirrels is perched on the branch. Which is bending and bending and bending.
I hear a loud rushing, whooshing sound. And then . . .
. . . CRRRRR-ACK!
Or is it click?
Whatever it is, it’s followed by a pounding, splattering sound, like sheets of rain. And BOOM-KABOOM!
I shiver. It’s all so terrifying. I can hardly stand to listen. But then I hear different sounds . . . tip, tap, tap.
My eyes pop open, but . . . suddenly everything is dark. I can’t bark, I can’t move, and now I can’t see!
And hey—the grass feels exactly like cushy carpeting.
It is cushy carpeting! I’m no longer out in the Dog Park. I’m back in the house. In the hallway outside the Eating Place.
Is this real? Or is it a dream?
In any case, there’s no time for questions. The tip, tap, tapping is getting closer. It’s inside the sliding door.
And it’s moving. Into the Eating Place.
Good thing there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.
Rain pelts against the window. A light flashes outside. For an instant, I can almost make out a large lumpy, bumpy creature.
Inside the Eating Place.
It smells like damp tree bark. And wet leaves.
This can only mean one thing—it’s that Evil Squirrel!
He’s come inside to stop me from saving Hattie. Like he actually could! Short human or squirrel, she’s still my beloved Hattie. And nothing can stop me from saving her!
BOOM-KABOOM!
I leap up. Hey, I can move! “Out of my way, Squirrel!” I bark. “I have a job to do.” Hey, I can bark!
But the Evil Squirrel is not intimidated. His shadowy shape keeps slinking through the Eating Place, determined to stop me.
Not if I stop him first. I’ll charge right in and show him who’s boss. But when my paws cross the threshold, I realize there’s another Very Big Problem.
The Wicked Floor!
How could things get any worse? Hattie’s in trouble. An Evil Squirrel is trying to keep me from saving her. And the Wicked Floor is in my way.
I can’t let it stop me. I won’t!
Hey, wait a minute! What am I thinking? I can go the other way!
“I’m coming, Hattie!” I bark. In a flash, I’m halfway down the hallway. I’m almost there! But then I meet another obstacle—The Gate. It’s blocking my way to the door!
I can’t get through, but I can’t give up. There’s too much at stake. Before I can talk myself out of it, I race back toward the Eating Place. There’s only one thing to do.
I muster every ounce of courage I have. I dig in my claws and crawl inside the doorway, fighting to keep my balance. “I’m warning you for the last time, Squirrel,” I bark. “Go away or face the consequences!”
The Evil Squirrel turns toward me and freezes. He gives a slight “shhhh.” Is he scared? Or about to make his move?
There’s no time to take chances. I must strike first. I take a couple of stumbling steps. I’m scrambling. I’m slipping. I’m going down.
But no—I must save Hattie! I keep racing ahead. Nothing can get in my way. I’m hurtling toward the Evil Squirrel. My paws slip and slip, but I pull myself up. “Hold on, Hattie!” I bark.
When I get close, I bear down on my front paws. I lunge at the Evil Squirrel. “Prepare for certain doom!”
Obviously frightened, he gasps.
My cue to pounce! I paw the Evil Squirrel’s lumpy, bumpy fur. Which does not feel very furry.
He holds out an arm . . . That’s his defense?
I throw myself at him again, nipping, pulling, tugging. Until he is scared right out of his skin.
Literally! As the Evil Squirrel shrieks in horror, the lumpy, bumpy covering slides off his body. Which smells awfully familiar, like mint and vanilla. And a bit like that choky spray . . .
Hattie?
Is my nose deceiving me? I back off. I cock my head and glance up into the wonderful dark eyes that I’d know anywhere.
It IS Hattie!
“Fenway,” she says. “Sit!”
My gaze locks to hers as if pulled by an invisible leash. I sink onto my bum, my tail thumping the cool, slick floor.
“Good boy! Good boy!” Hattie squeals. She drops to her knees, squeezing me and patting my head.
I slobber her nose and her eyes and her chin. Hooray! Hooray! My Hattie came back, and she’s not a squirrel anymore. And best of all, she’s loving me again.
Hattie rubs my belly, laughing and showering me with kisses. It’s a deliciously happy moment that I hope will never end. She missed me so much, she can hardly do enough to show it. And wowee, the love and appreciation sure feel great.
“I missed you, too,” I bark. I’m nuzzling Hattie’s wet hair—where’s her cap and bushy tail?—when my ears perk.
Whooshing, howling noises are coming from outside. Suddenly, I remember the gigantic squirrels.
I race over to the sliding door. I peer out, but there’s only blackness and pounding rain. In the few flashes of light, all I see is an empty Dog Park. And the giant tree’s leaves rippling and blowing in the wind.
Those evil squirrels are gone!
Clearly, they were petrified. “And don’t even think about coming back,” I bark in triumph.
When I rush back into the Eating Place, it’s bathed in bright light. Food Lady’s rubbing her eyes, and Fetch Man’s wearing his glasses. They look like they just woke up.
“Hattie,” Food Lady says in a voice that sounds glad but mostly relieved. Honestly, you’d think discovering that Hattie has returned would be cause for a full-blown celebration.
Fetch Man says, “Fenway!” He sounds surprised. Did he forget about me?
Hattie speaks very quickly. She must be explaining to Food Lady and Fetch Man what happened—that she turned into a squirrel and a pack of rival squirrels invaded her house, but a fierce and loyal dog frightened the squirrels away.
And in case they couldn’t figure out who the hero is, Hattie gestures dramatically toward the middle of the floor where I’m standing. With a huge smile on her face.
Gosh, I almost feel embarrassed.
Food Lady’s eyes bulge. Her hands fly up to her mouth.
Fetch Man squats down, grabbing his knees. His face is beaming. “Good boy!” he says, more surprised than ever.
“Good job!” Food Lady rushes over and gives me a tight squeeze. Fetch Man joins in.
Hey, it’s all in a day’s work, I want to say. No squirrel has a chance against me. But then again, I could get used to the lovefest.
And then, right when I thought things couldn’t get any better, a spectacular sight comes into view—my supper dish. It’s filled with food! Did I forget to eat it?
Food Lady must be reading my mind, because she lets me go at that very moment. I shoot over and start wolfing it down like it’s the First Meal of My Life. And mmmmm, is it ever tasty.
Apparently, my humans are just as ecstatic about the food as they were about my heroics. Hattie jumps up excitedly. Fetch Man puts his arm on Food Lady’s shoulder. They are all standing over me, mesmerized. Like they’ve never seen a dog eat before. And frankly, it’s more than a little distracting.
Hattie strokes my back. She smells happy and proud. It’s the Best Smell Ever.
I gaze at my empty bowl, wondering how the food disappeared so fast. And that’s when I see something else that makes my tongue start panting . . .
The Wicked Floor!
My bowl is sitting right on it. And so am I.
This can only mean one thing—I have trounced my nemesis. I am the winner!
For such a Long, Long Time, the Wicked Floor ruled the Eating Place. But not anymore. Its reign is officially over.
I flop down and rest my face on its cool surface. I rub my nose on it. Take that, you Wicked Floor! You may be Terrifying and Evil and Slippery, but you’re no match for me.
When the morning light is blazing, I climb over the cozy blankets to nuzzle Hattie.
“FEN-way,” she growls, though she smells anything but growly. I lick her face until her eyes flutter open. She’s here. My Hattie’s here. And we’re curled up in her bed. Together. The way it’s supposed to be.
After another Walk to Nowhere and returning without bread or milk or doughnuts, me and Hattie go outside to play in the Dog Park. “Fenway,” she says, pulling her hand out of her pocket.
Whoa, she’s got my attention. I leap and leap, poking my nose toward her fist. Mmmmm. It smells delicious!
She puffs out her chest and gazes into my eyes. Her expression is full of love. And power.
A persuasive combination. I’m listening.
She opens her mouth. “Sit.”
Hey, I know that word. A beautiful memory pops into my mind. I sink onto my bum as Hattie’s face breaks into that huge grin I know so well.
She holds out her arm and takes a step back. “Stay,” she commands.
Ha! I know that word, too. I sit still and wait for it.
And the treat drops into my mouth. Chomp! Wowee, it’s completely amazing!
Just like the hug Hattie gives me. “Good boy, Fenway!” she cries, kissing my head over and over. She smells as thrilled as I feel. Who knew it was so easy to make a short human this happy?
The rest of the day, we play ball and chase. We eat treats that Food Lady makes. And later, after we all enjoy a tasty supper in the Eating Place, Fetch Man and Food Lady head to the garage door. Hattie grabs my leash. We’re going for a ride in the car! This awesome day keeps on getting better.
As soon as the car stops,
my tail starts going nuts. We’re at the Treat Place!
I lead Hattie inside, full of happy anticipation. Friends. Treats. Hattie. What more could a dog want?
When we pass Lance, he gives me a nod. “Dude!” he says.
Rocky is trying to drag his humans back out the door. “Cheer up,” I tell him. “Treats are coming.”
Sadie cocks her head in my direction. “Fenway, where do you get your energy?”
Hattie smells cautiously optimistic. Like she wants to be in charge, but she’s not going to push. And her backpack is bulging with treats. I can hardly wait for the fun.
When the One Human enters, the others focus on her immediately. And the dogs are focused on their own humans. Because of the treats.
And after the One Human finishes speaking, the only sound in the room is a chorus of thumping tails. We are so ready. Cue the treats.
Hattie puffs herself up, strong and tall. She holds out a fist. She points to the floor. “Sit,” she commands.
I know this! I know this! I plop onto my bum and wait for it. The treat drops into my open mouth. Chomp! Mmmmm! How easy was that?
Hattie’s whole face grins. She smells as pumped as I feel.
“Stay,” Hattie says, her voice even more confident than before. She takes a step back.
Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Her hand tosses the treat and—chomp! Mmmmm!—oh yeah, that’s tasty. Hattie’s smile is so radiant, it makes me feel warm.
We do the exact same thing over and over. Each time, Hattie’s voice is stronger and more confident than ever. And my tummy is happier and happier, just like My Hattie. Food Lady and Fetch Man stand over us, watching. Their faces are beaming with pride.
And that’s not the only good news. We have loads more fun when the One Human comes over and shows me and Hattie how to play lots of other games. Hattie tells me “Down,” and I lie down, “Leave it,” and I ignore a toy, and, best of all, “Come,” and I rush into her sweet arms. She’s happy, I’m happy, and the treats just keep on coming. It’s an awesome slice of paradise until . . .
Fenway and Hattie Page 9