ASPCA PAW Pals

by Brenda Scott Royce

  Meg offered to chip in, too. “Please, Uncle Andy. Arnie can help kids overcome reading challenges. He’ll be a different kind of therapy dog, kind of like how Chance helps me live with epilepsy.” Smiling up at him, she said, “Onegaishimasu.” One of a handful of Japanese words she learned while living with her family in Tokyo, it meant please.

  By the time Mr. Midori used his trimmer to shape the hair on the poodle’s tail into a perfect puffball, he’d heard enough. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it,” he said. “Free of charge. But only if the Paw Pals help.”

  Grooming Days

  Amanda’s father was the first to call the kids the “Paw Pals,” but he wouldn’t be the last. Mr. Hook, a teacher who’d gone to Meg and Amanda’s library presentation with Chance, passed them in the halls later that week and said, “Look, it’s the Paw Pals!” During his volunteer shift at the shelter on Saturday, Drew told Chad about Project PAW. When he was leaving for the day, Chad said to Drew, “Say hi to your Paw Pals for me.” Before long, the name stuck. Amanda decided to make T-shirts with the words PAW PALS on the front and the logo she’d designed with Chance’s picture on the back. She hoped to raise the money to get them printed before their next presentation.

  It was too bad they couldn’t make them in time for today, Amanda thought as she and Meg rode to the shelter in the Wash and Wag mobile grooming van. Amanda was wearing a royal blue jumpsuit with a matching headband and white sandals. Meg, meanwhile, wore cutoffs and an oversized white shirt with both sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Once again Amanda found herself wondering how her DNA and Meg’s could be one-eighth the same.

  When Mr. Midori pulled the van around to the shelter’s back entrance, Drew and Blanca were already waiting to meet them. Drew went inside the shelter and returned moments later with Chad, who was carrying Arnie in his arms.

  “Oh, my,” Mr. Midori said when he finally got a good look at the mop-haired mess of a dog. “So, this is Arnie?” He took out his smartphone and clicked on the camera app. “I think I’ll take before-and-after shots for the salon photo album.”

  Amanda walked around to the side of the van and slid open the panel door. The interior of the van gleamed in the morning sun. The equipment was similar to what they had at the salon, but adapted to the smaller space.

  Chad handed the dog off to Mr. Midori. “I’ll be inside if you need anything. Thanks for doing this.”

  “You’re welcome.” Mr. Midori lifted Arnie into the van and carried him straight to the large stainless steel tub. “This is going to be a big job,” he said to the kids as they got to work.

  While Mr. Midori handled most of the actual grooming, the kids helped with shampooing, blow-drying, and combing. Amanda, who was the most familiar with the tools of her father’s trade, handed him the supplies he needed. Blanca and Meg massaged medicated lotion onto Arnie’s cracked toe pads. Drew’s self-appointed task seemed to be cracking jokes and fetching snacks—both for the dog and his handlers.

  The dog that emerged from the van forty minutes later looked nothing like the one who had entered it. Mr. Midori had cut off most of Arnie’s matted hair. He kept it long around the face, preserving the schnauzer’s trademark beard, which was now nearly white and neatly trimmed. He also clipped the dog’s toenails, cleaned his ears, and took a few inches off his bushy eyebrows.

  The shelter staff and volunteers on duty that day were all stunned by Arnie’s transformation. “Wow,” Chad said when Amanda handed him the other end of Arnie’s leash. “Dude has eyes, after all!”

  As they walked down the hallway to the dog wing, the schnauzer looked all around him as though seeing his surroundings for the first time.

  Mrs. Noland met them near Arnie’s kennel. “He’s adorable,” she said with a smile. “I can’t believe you did all that in such a short amount of time.”

  “With so many helpers the work went pretty quickly,” Mr. Midori told her. “I’m not due back at the salon for a couple hours, so maybe I could groom some more dogs.” Before his daughter could get carried away again, he added, “Just a few.”

  “That’s very generous,” said Mrs. Noland.

  Amanda kissed her father on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad!”

  As Mr. Midori returned to his van to prepare for the next dog, Mrs. Noland turned to Drew. “Why don’t you pick out the animals you think are most in need of a makeover. Maybe it will help them get adopted.”

  “Sure,” Drew said. “I have a couple ideas.”

  Just then a familiar screech echoed down the halls. “Hello! Helllooooo!”

  Mrs. Noland sighed. “I’ve left Maxine alone too long. She gets lonely, you know.” She turned and started down the hall.

  Amanda trailed after her, gesturing for the rest of the Paw Pals to follow. “Can we come with you?” she called after the shelter director. “We want to talk to you about Arnie.”

  Amanda wished she’d brought her prospectus—or even some of the photos of canine reading buddies that she’d printed from the Internet. Lacking such visual aids, she did her best to summarize the Paw Pals’ goal to find a dog who could be a reading buddy for the library.

  Sitting behind her desk, Mrs. Noland listened attentively. Maxine the macaw seemed to be listening, too. The big bird bobbed and nodded throughout Amanda’s speech. When Amanda finished, Maxine called out, “More!”

  “I’ve heard about animal reading buddies,” the shelter director said at last. “And I like the idea of helping Mr. Henderson find one that could make appearances at the library. But there’s a lot to consider. First of all, whoever ends up adopting Arnie might not want to participate in the program. Does Mr. Henderson want a dog?”

  Amanda shrugged. She hadn’t thought to ask him that question. But Blanca spoke up. “I talked to him at the poetry reading. He said he loves dogs but lives alone and works long hours at the library. He was concerned that he wouldn’t have time to train it.”

  “No, that doesn’t sound like an ideal arrangement,” Mrs. Noland concurred. She pushed her chair back and stood. “Why don’t you work with Arnie while he’s still here. There are some books and magazines in the waiting room. You can take turns reading to him, and see how he reacts. Then we’ll take it from there.”

  For the next few hours, the Paw Pals took turns reading to Arnie and helping Mr. Midori. They had selected one cat—a calico, and two dogs—both mutts, for make-overs. All three were vastly improved by their visits to the grooming van.

  When Amanda and Blanca arrived at the meet-and-greet room, they found Drew shaking his head in frustration. “He used to lay around like a sweet, shaggy mop,” he said, pointing at the schnauzer. “Now he won’t stop running around. I think it’s the haircut. Now that he can see what’s in front of him, he wants to go exploring.”

  Amanda gestured at the sports magazine in Drew’s hands. “Maybe he just doesn’t like what you’re reading.”

  “Who doesn’t like baseball?” the boy asked. “Besides, Meg read him one of those rhyming books for little kids. He wouldn’t sit still for that, either.”

  “He might enjoy poetry,” Blanca said. “I love poetry.”

  “Good luck finding a book of poetry around here,” Drew said.

  “I have plenty of poems memorized.” Blanca sat cross-legged on the floor and began reciting one of her favorites, a poem about a lonely lion who finally finds a friend.

  As Drew and Amanda watched, Arnie circled Blanca and then settled down beside her. Maybe Blanca was right and the dog preferred poetry. Then Arnie put his paws over his ears and let out a mournful howl.

  Amanda was crestfallen. It seemed her friends were right. She remembered the qualities of a good reading buddy that she’d listed in her prospectus: calm, patient, and attentive. The “new and improved” Arnie was none of those things.

  The dog had abandoned Blanca’s side and was now chewing on a wooden chair leg. As Drew tried to offer Arnie a chew toy to replace the chair, Amanda shook her head sadly. “This dog is not cut out for librar
y life.”

  Finding a Family

  “Attention!” Amanda lifted a banana from her tray and tapped it on the table in front of her. “I’m calling this meeting to order.” She was sitting across from Meg and Blanca at their usual table. Both looked up from their lunch trays expectantly.

  Drew rolled his eyes. “This is a cafeteria, not a conference room.” He pointed to the fruit in Amanda’s hand. “And that’s a banana, not a gavel.”

  Since the third and fourth graders had the same lunch period, Drew sometimes sat with them in the cafeteria—when he wasn’t hanging out with his soccer buddies or the members of his comic book club. Today Amanda had insisted he eat with the Paw Pals so they could discuss important business.

  “That’s a good idea.” Amanda set down the banana and picked up a pencil. She made a note on the pad in front of her: “Order a gavel.”

  “Are we going to start looking for another library dog?” Meg asked. “Is that what this meeting is about?”

  Amanda shook her head. She removed a piece of paper from her folder and placed it on the center of the table. On it she’d printed two pictures of Arnie that she’d downloaded from her father’s smartphone. Underneath the images were the words BEFORE and AFTER. The other kids gasped. Though they’d witnessed the dog’s transformation in person, seeing the photos side by side still made a big impression.

  Seeing that the photos had the effect she’d intended, Amanda began her prepared speech. “I think we gave up on Arnie too soon. I’ve been thinking about him—and Chance.”

  Meg perked up at the sound of her dog’s name. “What about Chance?”

  “Chance needed training to be a seizure dog, right?”

  Meg nodded, remembering all the sessions she and Chance attended at the university—and the hundreds of hours they practiced outside of class. “I still run through his lessons with him, to make sure he doesn’t forget.”

  “I think Arnie can learn to do his job, just like Chance did.” She looked around the table at her friends. “We can help him.”

  “Maybe he needs a test run,” Meg suggested. “We could bring him to the library and see how he does.”

  “I’ll ask Mr. Henderson.” Blanca grinned, dimples forming in her cheeks. “My mom’s taking me to the library today after school. We volunteered to help organize Cornelius Bryson’s books.”

  Drew wrinkled his nose. “Who’s Cornelius Bryson?”

  “He’s the poet who donated his rare book collection to the library. There are stacks and stacks of boxes! Mr. Henderson said he could really use help unpacking and sorting through all the books.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Drew offered. “I don’t know much about poetry, but I’m good at unpacking boxes.” He reached for the before-and-after photos of Arnie. “Can we bring these pictures to show Mr. Henderson?”

  “Good idea,” Meg said. “While you two are at the library, Amanda and I can visit the shelter and talk to Mrs. Noland.”

  “Agreed.” Amanda made a final notation on her pad, then set down her pencil. She picked up the banana and banged it on the tabletop. “Meeting adjourned.”

  “Lunch period doesn’t end for ten more minutes,” Drew pointed out.

  “I know.” Amanda winked as she began peeling the banana. “But I really want to eat this gavel.”

  Maxine was chattering away when Amanda and Meg arrived at the animal shelter. A family of five was in the front office with Mrs. Noland. The parents were filling out paperwork, and their three children were talking to the macaw. Amanda could tell by the way the bird bobbed her head and fluffed her feathers that she was enjoying the attention. She hoped the family had decided to adopt Maxine.

  But when she asked the shelter director, the answer was not what she expected.

  “This is the McCarty family,” Mrs. Noland said. “They want to adopt Arnie.”

  Mr. McCarty and the children took Arnie on a walk in the neighborhood around the shelter while Mrs. McCarty finished the adoption paperwork with the shelter staff. Mrs. Noland told the cousins that it was looking like Arnie would be going to a new home that day. “The McCartys have a large property outside of town, with lots of room for a dog to run around. They’ve got chickens and horses, not to mention the three kids, to keep him busy. Arnie really seemed to like the children. I think it’ll be a good fit.”

  “That’s great, but what about our plan for him to be a library dog?” Amanda asked. “Should I talk to the McCartys about Project PAW? I can print them a copy of my prospectus, and—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Mrs. Noland interrupted gently. “I told them about the reading buddy program, and they said they can’t participate. They live too far from town, and they’re very busy with their family farm.” She reminded the girls that they’d known this was a possibility, and they could still try to find another dog—and another family—to take part in the project.

  The director’s words made sense, but Amanda still felt terrible. She didn’t want to start over with a new dog. She had her heart set on Arnie. One glance at Meg’s face told Amanda that her cousin felt the same way. They might not have many of the same genes, but in some ways—like their love of animals—they were exactly alike.

  “Can we say good-bye to Arnie?” Meg asked in a shaky voice. “In case we never see him again?”

  Mrs. Noland gave the girls a sympathetic smile. “Of course.”

  “You and your friends really made a difference in Arnie’s life,” she told them when they reached his kennel. “Since his makeover, we’ve had several inquiries about him. There was a waiting list to adopt him! That’s something you can all be proud of.”

  Amanda nodded. She was glad their actions had helped Arnie find a loving home, and hoped the other animals they groomed would also get adopted soon. Yet as she walked home with Meg, she couldn’t help but feel that their first official assignment had been a failure.

  A Fitting Tribute

  “The Cornelius Bryson Reading Room,” Amanda read the gold-plated sign above the entrance to the room where she and Meg had given their presentation a few weeks earlier. Since that time, upon a recommendation from Mr. Henderson, the library’s board of directors had voted to rename the room in honor of the beloved local poet. With the help of volunteers, Bryson’s sizable book collection had been organized and catalogued. Some of the rarer volumes had been placed in a display case in the reading room, while the rest were shelved throughout the rest of the library. The poetry section alone had tripled in size.

  “Looks great, doesn’t it?” Blanca said, staring up at the sign. “I was sad when he died, but I’m glad he left his books to the library so that people can enjoy them.”

  The Paw Pals had come to the library for the dedication ceremony. It seemed to Amanda like half the town was there. Inside the reading room, people milled about, admiring the display and the portrait of Cornelius Bryson that had been framed on the wall. Mrs. Montez, who’d arrived early to help set up for the event, was sitting in the front row, along with Meg’s parents.

  “Dude had a lot of books,” Drew said, exhaling at the memory of all the boxes he’d helped to unload.

  “What kinds of books?” Amanda asked. She still wasn’t crazy about poetry but loved reading novels and short stories.

  “Mostly the heavy kind.”

  A few minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, Mr. Henderson entered the room and began greeting guests. When he spotted Amanda and her friends, he said, “Hello, Paw Pals. Thanks for coming today. Any progress finding a reading buddy?”

  Frowning, Amanda filled him in on recent events. “It’s a lot harder than we thought,” she concluded. “It’s not enough to find the right dog, we also need to find the right owner.”

  “That’s because they need to be a team,” Meg added. “Like me and Chance.”

  The librarian let out a wistful sigh. “Gee, I wish I could have a dog, but like I told Blanca, I don’t know that I have the time to train a dog or give it
the attention it would need. I have a tiny apartment and spend most of my time here at the library.” After glancing at his watch, he thanked the kids for their efforts and made his way to the podium.

  Mr. Henderson welcomed the guests and named all the volunteers who’d helped with the effort to rename and reorganize the reading room—including Drew, Blanca, and Mrs. Montez. Then he turned over the podium to Dr. Lois Hammond, a university professor who’d been a close friend of the poet’s.

  “Before I talk about my friend Cornelius, I thought I’d read some of his work,” the professor said, opening a leather-bound book and setting it on the podium. “He wrote so many wonderful poems, but this is my favorite. It’s called, ‘One Wordy Bird.’ ” Dr. Hammond pushed her glasses higher on her nose and began to read.

  Amanda had expected to zone out during the poetry portion of the ceremony, but a few phrases—“feathers fair of blue and gold” and “jibber-jabber uncontrolled”—caught her attention. By the end of the first verse, she was convinced that the bird in the poem was the same one the Paw Pals had befriended at the shelter: Maxine!

  She glanced over at her friends. She could tell by their shocked expressions and excited whispers that they’d come to the same conclusion. Of course, she realized now, the macaw had come to live at the shelter right around the time the library received the donation of books. Both had occurred shortly after the newspaper had announced the poet’s death.

  Amanda wanted to hear the rest of the poem, but she had an idea and could no longer sit still. She whispered something into Meg’s ear, then slipped out of her seat and tiptoed from the room.

  Amanda was waiting in front of the library when her father pulled up in the Wash and Wag mobile grooming van. Since meeting Arnie, Mr. Midori had decided to donate a few hours each weekend to grooming animals at the shelter. She’d called him from the library, reaching him just as he was packing up the van.