Amelia Bedelia Unleashed

by Herman Parish

  “Okay,” said Eric. “One step at a time. Here we go.”

  “Come, Pierre,” said Charlie, limping as he led Pierre out of the crate.

  Diana and Eric walked next to Pierre on one side, and Amelia Bedelia and Charlie walked next to Pierre on the other side.

  “Fun! It’s a Pierre sandwich!” said Amelia Bedelia.

  Once they had finally crossed the crowded room, Charlie pointed to the spot reserved for them, and Pierre lay down with his perfect-poodle side up.

  “Amazing,” said Eric with a laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d never guess that Pierre had a wild side.”

  “Pierre is the best,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  “Charlie,” asked Diana, “are you going to be the handler for Pierre?”

  “I usually am,” said Charlie. “But my foot still really hurts. I’m sure it will be okay in a minute, but . . . would you be his handler?”

  “Well,” said Diana, “how about Amelia Bedelia? Pierre knows and trusts her.”

  “Great!” said Charlie. “That sounds good to me.”

  “That sounds crazy to me,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I’ve never shown a dog in my life!”

  “You’ll be terrific,” said Diana. “It’s simple. Just do whatever the judges tell you and Pierre to do.”

  Just then the announcer called for Pierre’s group. Charlie touched up Pierre’s perfect-poodle side with a brush. He touched up Pierre’s wonderful wild side with a comb and some spit. Amelia Bedelia looked more nervous than Pierre.

  “Would you like me to comb your hair too?” asked Charlie.

  Amelia Bedelia looked at the spitty comb. “No, thank you!” she said, giggling.

  “We’ll be cheering in the stands,” said Eric.

  “Good luck,” Diana said. “Have fun!”

  Before she knew what had happened, Amelia Bedelia was in line with the other dogs and handlers. She realized that she knew most of them. Sherlock was there. So were the jogger and her Jack Russell terrier, and the Maltese and her owner. Even Gladys was there, cradling Baby in her arms.

  “Congratulations!” Gladys said. “You finally got your dog!”

  “Not yet,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I’m here helping a friend.”

  “Good luck,” said Gladys as she put Baby down. “May the best dog win.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” said the announcer, “we proudly present our final group of the evening.”

  Pierre looked up at Amelia Bedelia. She looked down at him. He wagged his tail twice. Then the lights dimmed in the arena, the spotlight came on, the curtain parted, and Amelia Bedelia and Pierre bounded out to face the judges.

  First off, the judges had all the dogs run in a line in the same direction to examine how well they moved. This showed off Pierre’s perfect-poodle side beautifully. The judges looked pleased. The crowd roared its approval. I can do this, thought Amelia Bedelia. I am doing this.

  Announcers named Bob and Melanie described the action for the fans. Their voices filled the arena.

  Bob: “Melanie, this last group of dogs is what we’ve all been waiting for—they’re the cream of the crop!”

  Melanie: “That’s right, Bob. Any dog here could easily take home the trophy.”

  Bob: “Look at the bloodhound. I’d hate to have him on my trail.”

  Melanie: “That tiny Maltese is a gem! I wish my hair looked that good, Bob.”

  Bob: “We all do, Melanie. What a cutie!”

  Melanie: “Sherlock is being followed by the Jack Russell terrier, another favorite with the crowd.”

  Bob: “Listen to that applause. That’s a little dog with tons of personality.”

  Melanie: “Here comes another star—Pierre, the French standard poodle. I remember him from last year.”

  Bob: “There’s nothing standard about Pierre. He towers over that tiny Yorkshire terrier.”

  Melanie: “That Yorkie is Baby. Adorable.”

  Bob: “Now the judges are having them reverse direction, showing off the other side of these champions to this very enthusiastic crowd.”

  The audience began to applaud again. But gradually, the applause petered out. The crowd buzzed. Something was different. Something was wrong.

  Up in the stands, Charlie’s mom appeared to be the most perplexed of all. She looked at Amelia Bedelia’s parents. “Where’s Pierre?” she asked.

  “I can see Amelia Bedelia,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father, “but I still can’t see Pierre. I must need new glasses.”

  “I see Amelia Bedelia too,” said her mom. “But I can’t see Pierre, either. I must finally need glasses.”

  “No, you don’t,” said Charlie’s mom. She was looking through binoculars. “Your eyes are fine. Pierre has been replaced by a big black dog!”

  Melanie: “Bob, the judges are confused.”

  Bob: “So am I, Melanie.”

  Melanie: “Now the judges are conferring . . . scratching their heads . . . shaking their heads. They’re counting. Looks like one is missing.”

  Bob: “A judge is missing?”

  Melanie: “No, Bob, a dog. A dog is missing.”

  Bob: “Good grief! It appears Pierre the poodle has vanished! He’s been replaced by a large black dog.”

  Melanie: “Let’s see what the judges do, Bob.”

  This is what the judges did. They directed Amelia Bedelia to walk back and forth, to and fro. The crowd gasped, then fell totally silent. Amelia Bedelia smiled and patted Pierre on the head.

  At first Amelia Bedelia’s parents didn’t know what to think. When their daughter turned the poodle one way, he was white and fluffy. When she turned him the other way, he was black and curly.

  “Oh,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father. “I get it. One side is a standard poodle, and the other side is a poodle that has been stepped in.”

  Amelia Bedelia’s mother laughed harder than she had ever laughed in her life.

  “At last,” her father said, “you laughed at one of my jokes.”

  “Pierre, my man, you rock!” yelled Eric. He jumped up and began to clap and chant Pierre’s name: “P-Air! P-Air! P-Air!”

  “P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air!” shouted Amelia Bedelia’s parents.

  “P-Air! P-Air!” shouted Charlie’s mother.

  “P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air!” chanted the crowd.

  Amelia Bedelia could see Charlie peeking out from behind the curtain. She beckoned him to come and join her, and when he did Pierre jumped up and licked his face. Then Pierre wagged his tail and wouldn’t stop wagging. The crowd cheered, chanting even louder.

  “P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air! P-Air!”

  Finally the cheers of the crowd died down enough for the judges to hear themselves talk. And talk they did. Their tongues were wagging faster than Pierre’s tail. At last the judges reached a decision.

  The head judge spoke into a microphone, and his voice boomed across the arena. “In the history of this dog show, we have never had a situation so unusual or a dog as unusual as Pierre.”

  The crowd cheered.

  “As remarkable as Pierre’s appearance is, it is against the rules of the show to change the natural color of a dog’s coat, even half of it. That is why we have disqualified Pierre the poodle.”

  The crowd booed.

  “However, it is our decision that such an unusual presentation deserves some unusual recognition. Therefore, we are giving Pierre a special award for Most Original Grooming.”

  The crowd applauded loudly as the judges shook hands with Charlie and Amelia Bedelia. When Pierre offered them his paw, each judge shook it and bowed. The crowd roared its approval.

  Baby won Best in Show. Amelia Bedelia felt fine about that, since she thought Baby was the cutest dog in the world and had thought that since the first time she laid eyes on him.

  Baby may have been awarded the trophy, but there was no doubt who the true star was. Pierre was mobbed after the show. Amelia Bedelia and Charlie to
ok turns having their pictures taken with Pierre and his fans. And since Pierre had two sides, everyone wanted two pictures. Cameras and phones flashed and clicked and snapped until you’d have thought a movie star had moved to town.

  “You know, Charlie,” said Amelia Bedelia’s dad after everyone had been introduced officially. “They say every dog has his day.”

  “I’ve heard that,” said Charlie.

  “Well,” continued her dad, “even though Pierre didn’t win Best in Show, this day and night belongs to Pierre.”

  “And you too, Charlie,” said Amelia Bedelia. “You’re both the best!”

  “Thanks, Amelia Bedelia,” said Charlie. “I think I owe it all to you!”

  Everyone was too excited to go home, so they stopped by Pete’s Diner for his two-for-one treats and had a little party. Pete let Pierre park under the table again because it was such a special night. He even brought him a bowl filled with water.

  Amelia Bedelia’s parents were true to their word. On Sunday afternoon, they all got in the car to go get a dog.

  “Are we going to the pet store by the mall?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  “No,” said her dad, “I thought we’d stop by the animal shelter for a dog. They’re by the pound.”

  “By the pound?” said Amelia Bedelia. “Is that how you buy a dog, like potatoes or butter or something?”

  “Of course not,” said her mother. “The town pound is where they keep lost or abandoned animals. The adopt-a-pet shelter tries to find them homes.”

  “That makes more sense,” said Amelia Bedelia. “If you bought a Great Dane by the pound, you’d have to be a millionaire.”

  “They don’t sell these dogs at all,” said her father. “They give them away.”

  “For free?” said Amelia Bedelia. “That’s a better deal than two-for-one ice cream specials at Pete’s Diner.”

  “Actually,” said her dad, “they’re not quite free. You have to pay for their shots and a dog license.”

  “Daddy, you’re always teasing me,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Dogs don’t need license plates. No dog can run fast enough to get a speeding ticket.”

  As they pulled up to the shelter, Amelia Bedelia realized something. After all the different kinds of dogs she had seen and walked and cared for, she still had not decided what kind of dog would be best for her. She could hear the dogs barking inside the shelter. She wondered if one was calling to her.

  Amelia Bedelia and her parents met the director of the shelter—a lady named Wiggins. She was only too happy to help them.

  “I’m retired now,” she said. “But I was a vet.”

  “Were you in the army or navy or air force?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  Dr. Wiggins laughed. “None of the above. I was a veterinarian for thirty years.”

  “Sweetie,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mom, “we’re going to wait here while you choose. This is your dog. You ought to decide for yourself which one is right for you.”

  “How will I know?” said Amelia Bedelia as tears began to well up in her eyes. “What if I make the wrong choice?”

  “Don’t worry, honey,” said Dr. Wiggins. “You can trust yourself. You’ll feel which one is right for you. I’ll help. Now let’s go meet some dogs.”

  As soon as they entered the kennel, the noise became deafening. Dogs of all shapes and sizes and colors wanted Amelia Bedelia’s attention. Dogs were barking, yipping, and yapping. They were turning around and around to show themselves off. They were wagging their tails so eagerly Amelia Bedelia thought their tails might fly off their rear ends all at once.

  As she walked down the long row of cages, Amelia Bedelia stopped to meet every single dog. All of the dogs acted like they would love to go home with Amelia Bedelia . . . all except one.

  This dog was just sitting there, alert but not bouncy, interested but not excited. It was adorable! It tilted its head to one side to look at Amelia Bedelia.

  Amelia Bedelia tilted her head and looked right back at it.

  “I’ve seen a lot of dogs lately. But I have never seen one like that,” said Amelia Bedelia, pointing at the dog. “What kind is it?”

  “That dog is a mixture,” Dr. Wiggins said.

  “A mixture of what?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  “She’s a mixture of her mother and her father,” said Dr. Wiggins.

  “Gosh,” said Amelia Bedelia. “That sounds like me.”

  “You and everyone else in the world,” said Dr. Wiggins. “We are all mutts, when you come right down to it.”

  “She’s just a mutt?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  “Just a mutt?” asked Dr. Wiggins. “Why, a mutt can be the most wonderful dog in the world. With a mutt like this one, chances are you’ll get the best of everything—the courage of a terrier, the friendliness of a spaniel, the brains of a poodle, the affection of a retriever, the loyalty of a hound. All rolled into one.”

  “Wow,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I never thought of it like that.”

  Dr. Wiggins opened the cage door.

  Amelia Bedelia kneeled down to get a closer look, and the first thing that dog did was to lick her cheek, just once. Amelia Bedelia sat back and blinked her eyes, like Sleeping Beauty being awakened by a kiss.

  “This is the one,” said Amelia Bedelia. “This is the dog for me.”

  “Good choice,” said Dr. Wiggins. “She’s a sweetheart.”

  “How adorable!” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother when Amelia Bedelia and Dr. Wiggins returned to the office with the dog. “You two look like you were made for each other.”

  “What’s her name?” asked Amelia Bedelia’s father.

  “Finally,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  “It did take a while,” said her mom.

  “And it’s been quite a saga,” said her dad. “But you got a dog at last. What are you going to call her?”

  “Finally,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I am going to call her Finally Bedelia, because I finally got what I wanted: a dog.”

  After they had officially adopted Finally, everyone headed back to the car.

  Amelia Bedelia’s father opened the back door. Finally jumped onto the backseat like she had done it a million times before, and they headed for home.

  “Just so you know,” said her dad, glancing in the rearview mirror. “We’re still working on that baby brother for you.”

  “Or baby sister,” said her mother.

  “Take your time,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I’ve got my own baby now.”

  Amelia Bedelia rolled her window down. Finally came over to sit on Amelia Bedelia’s lap. She poked her head out the window. Amelia Bedelia couldn’t wait to introduce her to Charlie, Diana, and Eric. She was sure Finally would be Pierre’s best friend.

  Amelia Bedelia stuck her head out the window too. The breeze blew Finally’s ears back, tickling Amelia Bedelia’s face. Her hair mixed with Finally’s furry ears until you couldn’t tell where Amelia Bedelia ended and Finally began.

  About the Author and Illustrator

  HERMAN PARISH was in the fourth grade when his aunt, Peggy Parish, wrote the first book about Amelia Bedelia. The author lives in Princeton, New Jersey.

  LYNNE AVRIL has illustrated all the stories about young Amelia Bedelia. The artist lives in Phoenix, Arizona, and she loves to visit Paris, France.

  www.ameliabedeliabooks.com

  For exclusive information on your favorite authors and artists, visit www.AuthorTracker.com.

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  Note to Reader

  Dear Amelia Bedelia fan,

  Usually, this is where you would be able to read the first chapter of Amelia Bedelia’s next book, Amelia Bedelia Road Trip! But after all her adventures with dogs, we ran out of pages. And the truth is, I haven’t written the first chapter yet. However, I have written the last chapter. If you read the ending of a story, though, it’s usually not as much fun to read the rest of it, so I’m not going to share the last chapter . . . yet.

  At this point, Amelia Be
delia would ask a question: How can you write the end of a story before you write the beginning?

  Good question. Have you ever tried to write a story that way? You should try it! For Road Trip! I knew where Amelia Bedelia would be at the end of the story—she and her parents would wind up back at home. But they wouldn’t feel the same as they had when they started. They would have had all kinds of funny, weird, interesting encounters with people they met in the places they went.

  That’s the part I’m working on right now. I hope you’ll have as much fun reading about Amelia Bedelia’s adventures on the road as I’m having writing about them!

  Keep reading and writing,

  Herman Parish

  Two Ways to Say It

  Copyright

  Gouache and black pencil were used to prepare the black-and-white art.

  Amelia Bedelia is a registered trademark of Peppermint Partners, LLC.

  Amelia Bedelia Unleashed. Text copyright © 2013 by Herman S. Parish III. Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Lynne Avril. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.