by Marilyn Kaye
I did a search—what dogs can eat—and found the answer quickly.
“Yes! If it’s cooked and plain. It looks like we should start with just a little to make sure it agrees with her.”
“Excellent!” Mom said, and disappeared. I hurried after her and caught up as she opened the refrigerator door in the kitchen.
“Mom, let me!”
She stopped and looked at me in surprise.
“I found her, Mom. She’s my responsibility.”
Her brow furrowed, as if she was puzzled. Then she nodded and stepped aside, and I located the bowl of quinoa in the fridge. I found a small, shallow dish, filled it, and set it down on the floor. The dog immediately left the water she was lapping up and attacked the quinoa.
“There were no dogs reported missing on the website,” I announced.
“Well, let’s keep checking. And maybe I’ll take pictures of her. I could make flyers to post.”
“I can take the pictures, Mom. And make the flyers.”
She smiled. “Oh. Okay, honey. Feel free to use my printer.”
“Thanks.”
“You know, Rachel, I’m thinking that she must be from around here somewhere. She’s too clean to have traveled far or for too long. I can post the flyers around the neighborhood tomorrow.”
“Or I could,” I said. “But we can keep her tonight, can’t we? If no one reports her missing on the website, of course.”
“Well… we should first check with the animal shelter too, to make sure no one’s called them.”
That was something I was more than happy to let Mom do. She took a picture of the dog and disappeared into her office with her phone. When she came out a few minutes later, she said, “All right. I contacted them and I sent along a photo. They haven’t gotten any calls, but they’re on alert. And they’re grateful we’re willing to take her in for the moment.”
“We should give her a name,” I said.
“I’m sure she already has one, Rachel.”
“Well, just a temporary name. Something we can call her while she’s here. Like, I don’t know, Sweetie or Sugar.”
“We’ll have to go out and get her some real dog food,” Mom said. “And we can walk her together tonight.”
I looked at her with interest. “You like her!”
She smiled. “I had a dog when I was young. A French poodle.”
“What was her name?”
“Fifi.”
The dog stopped eating for a minute and looked up at her. Then she resumed eating.
“Well, let’s call her that,” I said. “Fifi.”
The dog looked up again and scampered toward me.
“Mom! She knows her name!”
My mother laughed. “I’m not so sure about that. Maybe she’s just finished eating and she wants to play.”
Fifi followed me out the back door and began exploring the yard. She sniffed around the hedge and burrowed a little in the garden. I chased after her.
“Don’t dig up Mami’s bulbs,” I warned her. Honestly, it was almost as if she understood what I was saying! She turned away, spotted a squirrel, and chased it till it ran up the tree. She barked at it, and I was pleased to hear that it was a pretty soft bark. The neighbors wouldn’t be complaining about noise.
Then she snatched up a twig and brought it to me. I smiled. “Yeah, we’ve played this game before, haven’t we?” I threw the twig, and she ran after it and returned it. I continued to toss and she fetched, over and over again.
Mami came home, and she and Mom joined us outside.
“Oh, que lindo cachorrito,” Mami crooned. She was right—this was a very cute little puppy.
“Her name’s Fifi,” I told her.
“Fifi!” Mami repeated, and Fifi ran directly to her.
Mom looked at her watch. “We should go buy her food right now before the store closes,” she said.
We piled into the car—Mami took the driver’s seat and Mom sat next to her, while Fifi and I got in the back. Along the way to Main Street, Fifi pressed her face against the window and wagged her tail nonstop.
I knew where we were headed, though I’d never been inside the shop. After Mami found a parking spot, Mom got out and held my door so I could slide out with Fifi. I cradled her in my arms as we all made our way toward the storefront.
It was warm and bright inside Pet Palace, and the man behind the counter greeted us with a smile. “That’s one fine-looking dog!”
He held out a tiny dog treat, which Fifi accepted happily.
“Can you tell what breed she is?” Mom asked.
He gazed at Fifi thoughtfully. “There’s definitely some terrier in her. Maybe a little spaniel. How old is she?”
“We don’t know,” I said. “I just found her.”
He examined her more closely. “I’d guess around two. Are you taking her to the shelter?”
“No,” Mom said. “We’ll take care of her till we find her owner. Does she look familiar to you at all?”
He shook his head. “No, but I’m not the only shop in town. There’s another, at the Mall.”
“We’ll check with that one too,” Mom said. “For now, we need some supplies.”
She went off with the man, while Mami and Fifi and I browsed. I spotted a selection of leads and collars in different colors.
“We should get one of these,” I said to Mami, showing her the leads. “We’ll need to walk her, and I don’t want her running away from us.”
“Good point,” Mami said, and I chose one in yellow with a matching collar.
“Look,” I said as we rejoined Mom and the man at the counter. “We can have her name engraved on this collar!”
Mom smiled, but she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey. We don’t know what her real name is, and you don’t want to get too attached to her.”
Mami agreed. “Someone must be missing her very much.”
Maybe, I thought, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel too sorry for whoever that person was. After all, that person wasn’t missing her enough to post her loss immediately on the community message board.
We checked out and headed home. After dinner, I looked at the community board again, and there was nothing about a missing dog. As darkness fell across the neighborhood, Mami and I walked Fifi around the block.
“Do you like dogs, Mami?” I asked, as Fifi stopped to sniff a tree.
“Oh, yes. In fact, when I was a child, I wanted a dog so much!”
“Your parents wouldn’t let you have one?”
Mami smiled a little sadly. “They couldn’t, because of my father. Once, when they visited friends who had a dog, just for a dinner, he became violently sick and had to go to an emergency room. That’s when they found out he’d developed a severe allergy to dogs.”
“So you’re okay with Fifi staying with us for a while?”
“More than okay, my darling. I’m happy to host her!”
Back home, I put the pillow bed we’d bought for Fifi in my room, and she settled down on it. I did my homework and then got out my diary to record the events of the day. Normally, my most interesting accounts were the visions the sisterhood saw in the spyglass. Now, finally, I had something different and maybe even more exciting to write about.
When I finished recording the tale of finding Fifi, I added something else.
No one asked me how I got home from Ellie’s, and I didn’t tell them I walked alone. Maybe I should feel bad about my lie of omission.
I hesitated, gripping my pen tightly. Then I wrote, But I don’t.
I put the diary away and went out to the living room to say good night to my mothers.
“Did you check the community board again?” Mom asked.
“I did, after dinner.”
“Maybe check again,” Mom suggested.
I didn’t want to, and maybe I wouldn’t have if she hadn’t asked. But she did ask, I said yes, and I can’t tell a real lie. To my relief, there were still no reports of mi
ssing dogs. I brushed my teeth, put on my pajamas, and got into bed.
“Good night, Fifi,” I said softly.
Her ears perked up. She hopped off her pillow, jumped onto my bed, and curled up beside me. And it felt so right. Like she belonged there, with me. To me.
THE NEXT MORNING, I HAD TO ADMIT THAT there was a benefit to having a mother who insisted on walking me to school. Otherwise, I would have been late and I would have ended up getting detention like Ellie.
I’d had my breakfast, I was dressed and ready to leave, but I got a little distracted taking photos of Fifi on my cell phone. She was treating it like a game—every time I aimed the phone in her direction, she took off before I could get a decent shot.
“Rachel!” Mom yelled. “We should have left five minutes ago!”
I stuffed my phone in my pocket, blew a kiss at Fifi, grabbed my backpack, and ran out.
“Now, we should be looking for posters,” Mom said as we walked.
“Posters?”
“Or flyers, notices. Fifi’s owner might have put up signs about her. So keep your eyes open.”
“Oh, sure,” I said without much enthusiasm.
“Here, let’s check these out,” she said as we passed a bulletin board outside a drugstore. I crossed my fingers as we looked the notices over. There was nothing about a lost dog.
“Have you made up flyers?” Mom asked me when we resumed walking.
I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Um, no, not yet.”
“Well, for now, when you’re talking to people at school, be sure to tell them about the dog,” she said. “She might belong to one of them.”
“But you like having Fifi around, don’t you, Mom?”
She smiled. “Well, yes, of course, it’s a pleasure. But I’m also thinking about some person here in Lakeside who might be missing her. Someone who might be very sad right now.”
I hadn’t felt much sympathy for that someone last night in Pet Palace, but this morning, as much as I hated to admit it, I knew Mom was right. “Okay, I will,” I said. But considering the fact that the only classmates I ever spoke to were the other members of the sisterhood, I felt pretty safe promising to do that.
“Can I invite my friends over after school to see Fifi?” I asked.
“Of course you can!” Mom was obviously very pleased with the idea. Since she couldn’t know about the secret spyglass, she never understood why we always met at Ellie’s.
I saw Alyssa and Kiara in front of the school entrance when we got there. I said a quick goodbye to Mom and ran to join them. But I couldn’t even get the words “Guess what” out of my mouth before Ellie appeared, looking positively devastated.
“I’m grounded!” she wailed. “For the rest of the week! Including the weekend!”
“Because of detention?” Alyssa asked.
“Yeah. Mom kept asking why I dawdled, and of course I couldn’t tell her the real reason.”
Kiara frowned. “So, no spyglass this week?”
“I’m not sure,” Ellie said. “I had to promise I wouldn’t go out, but they didn’t say anything about having people come over.”
Alyssa looked thoughtful. “You know, if you don’t ask, and they’re not home when we come, it would just be a lie of omission.…”
I felt sorry for Ellie, but I was getting a little impatient with her detention drama. I had something important to tell them too. I reached into my backpack for my phone. “Listen, you guys, wait till you see—”
But before I could get another word out, the warning bell rang and we were suddenly caught up in the mass of students streaming into the building. I’d have to wait to tell them about Fifi when we met before third period. Except that two hours later, when I arrived at English class, the three of them were standing with a bunch of other kids at Ms. Gonzalez’s desk, where she was handing out brochures about books available for students to buy at a discount.
I admit I was feeling pretty frustrated by lunchtime, which was the next opportunity I had to share my news. At our table, while I waited impatiently for the others to show up with their lunches, I carefully slid my phone out of my pocket. We weren’t actually supposed to have our phones out in school at all, but my friends needed to see this to believe it. I tapped on Photos and allowed myself a small smile at the sight of Fifi. By the time the sisterhood arrived, I was more excited than ever to tell them about her.
“You’re not going to believe what happened in my science class this morning,” Alyssa was saying as they sat down.
“WAIT!” I exclaimed. Was this the first time I’d ever interrupted any of them? It must have been, because three pairs of eyes opened wide.
I lowered my voice. “I need to tell you something important that can’t wait. It’s about the spyglass.”
At that, Alyssa immediately shoved her lunch tray aside and leaned forward. Kiara and Ellie did too, and I lowered my voice even further. “Remember that vision we saw in the spyglass yesterday? Me, walking a dog?”
They nodded. Carefully, I extended my phone toward them so they could see the photo. “Look.”
Now three mouths fell open. “It’s the same dog!” Ellie exclaimed.
“Shh!” Alyssa hissed.
Unfortunately, it was too late. Ellie’s voice had caught the attention of the lunchroom monitor, who was now making her way to our table.
“No cell phones in the cafeteria!” she snapped as she reached out to take it away from me. Luckily, some eighth grader chose that very moment to have some fun by throwing one of the rolls that always appeared on the trays with the cafeteria lunches. I’d never eaten one, but my friends had complained about how hard they were, like rocks. And sure enough, the monitor let out a yelp when it hit her on the arm. I was pretty sure it was an accident, but the look on her face told me she felt otherwise. She spun around and went after the culprit.
I quickly tossed my phone back in my backpack and hoped this new criminal act would make her forget mine.
“Let’s return to the subject of the dog,” Kiara said.
“She followed me home yesterday,” I reported. “She wasn’t wearing a lead or a collar, so I brought her in the house. She’s so cute! I’m calling her Fifi.”
“Wow. Are your mothers going to let you keep her?” Ellie asked.
“That depends on if whoever she belongs to shows up. I checked the online community board, but no one’s reported a missing dog. So she’s with me for now. Want to come over this afternoon and see her?”
“Yes!” Alyssa said, and Kiara echoed that.
“But I’ve got detention!” Ellie complained.
“I know,” I said sympathetically, “and if you’re grounded, you can’t come any other day this week. But don’t worry, you’ll come see her next week.” If I still have her, I added silently. But I immediately pushed that possibility out of my head.
Ellie and Alyssa had come to my house once, over a month ago. Kiara had never been there. I thought again about how pleased Mom and Mami would both be that I’d invited them. They knew that Ellie’s family lived in this old, interesting Victorian house her parents had renovated. Kiara and her father were in that elegant apartment building, and Alyssa’s father had designed the cool modern home they had. I was afraid my parents might think I was ashamed of our small house, which was absolutely not true.
All I considered was our kitchen—there would be no chips or soda to offer Alyssa and Kiara. But this was a Tuesday—perfect! Mami only had a half day at the high school on Tuesdays, and when Mom let her know I was bringing friends home, she’d whip up something amazing for an afternoon snack. Her fabulous oatmeal cookies studded with dried cranberries instead of the usual raisins? Or maybe whole-grain chips with homemade guacamole. Or a pile of fresh-cut veggies and her amazing hummus?
I was still considering the possibilities during last period when, just a few minutes before the final bell, the intercom alert sound came on and we heard Mr. Lowell’s booming voice.
“This is a special ann
ouncement for all seventh graders. We have three nominations for your grade representative. Submissions are closed now, and voting will take place one week from today. Your nominees are Paige Nakamura… David Tolliver… and Rachel Levin-Lopez.”
Was I still daydreaming or was something wrong with my ears? A couple of classmates turned and glanced at me with surprise on their faces. Even Mr. Clark, my science teacher, was looking at me with a puzzled expression. Then I knew I’d heard correctly. My name. As a nominee for seventh-grade representative.
The bell rang, Mr. Clark dismissed us, and everyone left their desks and headed to the door. I supposed I was in what they call a state of shock. My brain told me to get up, but my legs wouldn’t move. Finally, my limbs responded, and I rose. As I passed his desk, Mr. Clark smiled at me and said, “Congratulations, Rachel.”
Congratulations? Like this was something I wanted?
There were no words to describe what I was feeling. Stunned? Upset? It was beyond all that. This had to be a mistake. Or maybe it was a joke. Someone was teasing me. But who would do something like that? There was a kid in my English class who sometimes teased me about being teacher’s pet. And Paige, of course—but why would she nominate me? Because she knew she could beat me? But that didn’t make any sense.
And sure enough, when I went to my locker for my coat, Paige herself passed me in the hallway—and looked at me in such surprise that I knew it couldn’t have been her who nominated me.
Alyssa was waiting for me outside, and I immediately saw the shock on her face. Normally, at school, she walks around with a set expression, neither smiling nor frowning or reacting to anything at all. She always tries to look like nothing affects her one way or another. But now her mouth was open, and I had never seen her eyebrows up as high as when she saw me coming.
“What was that all about?” she asked me.
“I—I don’t know!”
Then Kiara appeared. She took in our expressions, which must have registered as very unusual, because she immediately asked, “What’s happened?”
“Didn’t you hear that announcement?” Alyssa demanded. “About Rachel?”
“Of course I did,” Kiara replied.
“And you’re not shocked?”