Miss Klute Is a Hoot!

by Dan Gutman

  “Okay, whose turn is it to start reading today?” asked Mr. Macky.

  “Mine!” everybody shouted.

  We all wanted to be the first to read, because Miss Klute usually cuddles up to the first reader and stays there.

  “I want to read to Miss Klute first!” shouted Andrea.

  “You started last time!” Neil said. “It’s my turn!”

  “I was absent last time,” said Michael. “I didn’t get to read to Miss Klute at all.”

  “That’s not our problem,” said Ryan.

  “Miss Klute told me she wants me to read to her first,” I said, even though that totally wasn’t true.

  “She did not!” said Alexia. “She can’t even talk.”

  “Well, she was thinking it.”

  Everybody was yelling, shouting, and arguing. I thought there was going to be a riot in there!

  “It’s Emily’s birthday,” Andrea finally said. “She should get to read to Miss Klute first.”

  “That’s a good point, Andrea,” Mr. Macky said. “I would like Emily to start our reading.”

  Mr. Macky gave Emily The Fuzzy Little Bunny. She looked at the book for a few seconds, and then she closed it. There were tears in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Emily?” asked Mr. Macky.

  “I don’t want to read.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  Mr. Macky finally got Emily to tell him why she didn’t want to read. She said it really softly. . . .

  “Because you’re here,” she whispered.

  “Ohhhhhh!” said Mr. Macky. “Okay, it’s Emily’s birthday, so I’ll leave you kids alone and come back in fifteen minutes to see how you’re making out.”

  “Ewww! Gross!” we all yelled, because Mr. Macky said “making out.”

  “I’ll be in the teachers’ lounge,” he said.

  “Can I come, too?” I asked. “I want another cupcake.”

  “No!”

  Mr. Macky told us to be on our best behavior while he was in the teachers’ lounge. So as soon as he left the room, Alexia, Ryan, and I got up and shook our butts at the class.

  “Woo-hoo,” shouted Ryan. “The grown-ups are gone!”

  “We can do anything we want!” hollered Alexia.

  “This is the greatest day of my life,” I yelled.

  Andrea and Emily were rolling their eyes and making mean faces at us.

  “Miss Klute is a grown-up, you know,” Andrea said. “She’s four years old. That’s thirty-two in dog years.”

  “Yes,” said Emily. “Miss Klute hears every word you’re saying. Maybe she’ll report back to Mr. Macky, and you’ll get in trouble.”

  “What’s she gonna tell him?” I asked. “Bow-wow? Arf, arf? Woof?”

  Miss Klute was staring at us the whole time. It looked like she was really listening to our conversation.

  “I guess we’d better start reading,” Ryan said. “Just in case.”

  Alexia, Ryan, and I went back to the corner and sat on the rug. Emily started to read from The Fuzzy Little Bunny.

  “It was a lovely summer day,” she read, “and the fuzzy little bunny went hip hop hopping down the road. It was Monday, and that meant her mommy was going to cook up a big pot of blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah . . .”

  The Fuzzy Little Bunny was the most boring book in the history of the world! I thought I might die from old age before the story was done. Miss Klute rested her head on Emily’s lap and closed her eyes.

  “She looks bored out of her mind,” said Neil the nude kid.

  “Maybe Miss Klute doesn’t like The Fuzzy Little Bunny,” said Alexia.

  “I can’t blame her,” Ryan said. “That story is lame.”

  “I might fall asleep myself,” said Michael. “I’ve heard this story before. The only thing that happens is that the fuzzy little bunny gets to eat a carrot at the end. Big deal.”

  “What a snoozefest,” I said.

  “I like the story of The Fuzzy Little Bunny,” said Andrea.

  “Me too,” said Emily, who agrees with everything Andrea says.

  That’s when I came up with the greatest idea in the history of the world.

  “It’s my turn to read,” I said, taking the book from Emily.

  I flipped to the next page and started to read. Well, I pretended to read anyway. . . .

  “After that,” I said, “the fuzzy little bunny went to the skate shop and bought a rocket-powered antigravity skateboard, with dual torpedoes on each side. It was awesome. The fuzzy little bunny had always dreamed about jumping a skateboard over the Grand Canyon.”

  “That’s not what it says, Arlo!” said Andrea. “You made all that up.”

  “So what?” I said. “Miss Klute won’t know the difference. She’s a dog. Maybe she’ll like the story better this way.”

  I passed the book over to Ryan, and he began to “read.”

  “So the fuzzy little bunny got on her rocket skateboard and started to jump over the Grand Canyon,” Ryan read. “But little did she know that on the other side of the Grand Canyon a fuzzy little kitten was taking off on a rocket skateboard at the very same time!”

  Hey, this story was getting cool! I looked over at Miss Klute. She was just sitting there listening, like always.

  Ryan passed the book over to Michael, and he began to “read.”

  “So the fuzzy little bunny and the fuzzy little kitten realized they were going to crash into each other over the Grand Canyon!” Michael read. “So they both turned on their laser beams and started shooting at each other! Bam bam bam bam!”

  Wow! I couldn’t wait to find out what happened next! This was the most exciting story in the history of the world!

  Andrea rolled her eyes. Miss Klute just sat there, listening.

  Michael passed the book over to Alexia, and she began to “read.”

  “And then the fuzzy little bunny caught on fire! She was falling into the Grand Canyon! It looked like it was all over for her. Unless . . .”

  “Unless what?” I asked Alexia. “Did the fuzzy little kitten rescue the fuzzy little bunny?”

  Miss Klute just sat there. She didn’t seem to care a bit what happened to the fuzzy little bunny.

  Alexia passed the book over to Neil the nude kid, and he began to “read.”

  “And then aliens came from outer space!” read Neil. “They had four eyeballs, six noses, and laser cannons instead of arms.”

  “Laser cannons are cool!” I shouted.

  Miss Klute just sat there. If aliens shooting laser cannons doesn’t get you excited, I guess nothing gets you excited.

  “What happened next?” we all begged Neil.

  “Yeah, what happened next?” asked Alexia.

  Neil didn’t seem to know what happened next. He thought about it for a minute.

  “And then the earth exploded and everybody died,” he finally said. “The end.”

  Neil closed The Fuzzy Little Bunny. Miss Klute just sat there.

  “You can’t say the earth exploded and everybody died,” Andrea shouted. “It’s a book for children!”*

  “So what?” I shouted back at Andrea. “You can say whatever you want!”

  “Can not!” she shouted back.

  We could have gone on like that for a while, but Mr. Granite and Mr. Macky came back to class.

  “So how are you kids making out with The Fuzzy Little Bunny?” Mr. Granite asked us.

  “Ewwww! Gross!” everybody shouted. “We’re not making out with the fuzzy little bunny!”

  “Did you like the story?” asked Mr. Macky.

  “Oh, yeah!” we all shouted.

  “The Fuzzy Little Bunny is awesome!” said Alexia.

  “What was your favorite part?” asked Mr. Macky.

  Everybody raised their hands except for me, of course. So naturally, Mr. Macky called on me.

  “I liked the pa
rt where they turned on their laser beams and started shooting at each other,” I said.

  “Yeah, that was cool,” agreed Ryan.

  “Hmm,” said Mr. Macky, opening The Fuzzy Little Bunny and leafing through the pages. “I don’t seem to remember that part.”

  Every day, Miss Klute has to do “lunch duty.” That means she walks around the vomitorium looking for scraps that fell on the floor so she can eat them. Miss Klute is like a vacuum cleaner for food! She’ll even eat stuff that Ryan won’t eat. Sometimes kids drop their lunch on purpose just to watch Miss Klute run over and scoop it up.

  “Where do you think Mr. Macky got a therapy dog?” asked Michael.

  “From Rent-A-Therapy Dog,” I told him. “You can rent anything.”

  On Emily’s birthday it was Hot Dog Day in the vomitorium. Me and the gang were eating lunch and minding our own business when Little Miss Perfect and the crybaby birthday girl sat down at our table with their trays. Emily went to get a mustard packet, and in that second or two the most amazing thing in the history of the world happened.

  Miss Klute grabbed the hot dog right off her plate!

  “Hey, where did my hot dog go?” Emily said when she got back to the table.

  Then we saw Miss Klute walking in the other direction with a hot dog sticking out of her mouth. It was hilarious.

  “Miss Klute stole my hot dog!” Emily shouted. “And it’s my birthday! We’ve got to do something!”

  Then she started crying and ran out of the vomitorium.

  Sheesh, get a grip! What a crybaby.

  After we all stopped laughing, I noticed that Andrea had on her worried face.

  “Don’t worry,” I told her. “Emily will get another hot dog.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about,” Andrea said. “I’m concerned about Miss Klute.”

  “What about her?” asked Michael.

  “Whenever we have reading time, she just lies there.”

  “So what?” said Alexia. “Maybe she’s tired.”

  “Why should she be tired?” asked Ryan. “All she does is eat and listen to kids read all day.”

  “She seems so sad,” said Andrea. “She’s got such a hangdog look on her face.”

  “She’s a dog,” I said. “She’s supposed to have a hangdog look on her face.”

  “My mother is a psychologist,” Andrea said. “She told me that Miss Klute has all the classic signs of depression.”

  “What?!” Neil said. “Dogs don’t get depressed.”

  “How do you know?” Andrea replied. “Maybe dogs are just like people, but with paws and fur.”

  “Are you saying that our therapy dog needs therapy?” asked Alexia.

  “She might,” Andrea replied. “I think we should try to cheer her up.”

  Maybe Andrea was right. Miss Klute did look kind of sad most of the time.

  After lunch we decided to skip recess and go to Mr. Macky’s office instead. Miss Klute was sitting on the floor in there, looking sad as usual.

  “What can I do for you kids?” Mr. Macky asked us.

  “Can we be alone with Miss Klute for a few minutes?” asked Andrea.

  “How come?” asked Mr. Macky.

  “We have to tell her something,” I explained. “It’s personal. Please? Please? Please?”

  “Uh, okay, I guess,” Mr. Macky said. “I’ll be in the teachers’ lounge.”

  “Okay, what are we gonna do to cheer Miss Klute up?” Ryan asked after Mr. Macky left.

  “We could tell her jokes,” suggested Alexia. “You know lots of them, A.J. Go ahead, tell her one.”

  “Okay,” I said, getting down on the floor next to Miss Klute’s ear. “Do you know why the skeleton didn’t go to the school dance?”

  “Why?” everybody asked.

  “He had no body to go with,” I said.

  We all looked at Miss Klute. She just sat there, looking sad.

  “Try another joke, A.J.,” said Neil.

  “Okay,” I said. “Do you know which football team travels with the most luggage? The Green Bay Packers! Get it? Luggage? Packers?”

  Miss Klute just sat there, looking sad.

  “She really is depressed,” I said. “Those are my best jokes.”

  “Do you know any dog jokes?” Andrea asked. “Maybe she needs jokes she can relate to.”

  “Okay,” I said. “How are dogs and marine biologists alike?”

  “How?” everybody asked.

  “One wags her tail, and the other tags her whale.”

  Miss Klute just sat there, looking sad.

  “What kind of dog does Dracula have?” I said.

  “What kind?” everybody asked.

  “A bloodhound.”

  Miss Klute just sat there, looking sad.

  “What do you get if you cross a cocker spaniel, a poodle, and a rooster?” I said.

  “What?” everybody asked.

  “A cockerpoodledoo!”

  Miss Klute just sat there, looking sad.

  “Those jokes are horrible, Arlo,” Andrea said. “I think you made her even more depressed than she was before.”

  “Well, if you’re so smart, let’s see you try to cheer her up,” I told Andrea.

  “Maybe she would like it if I danced for her,” suggested Andrea. “I just started taking Irish step-dancing classes after school.”

  Andrea takes classes in everything after school. If they gave a class in nose picking, she would probably take that class so she would get better at it.

  We all rolled our eyes as Andrea danced around Mr. Macky’s office. It was weird. And it didn’t seem to have any effect on Miss Klute. She just sat there staring at Andrea.

  “See? You can’t cheer her up either,” I said.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to be a therapy dog,” said Alexia. “Did you ever think of that? Maybe she wants to be a Seeing Eye dog.”

  “Or a firehouse dog,” said Neil. “That would be cool.”

  “Maybe she wishes she was a cat,” I said.

  “Poor Miss Klute,” Ryan said, wrapping his arms around her. “She’s cooped up in here all day long. Dogs don’t need to know how to read, write, or do math. They don’t want to go to school.”

  “Maybe she just wants to go outside,” I suggested.

  “That’s it!” said Andrea, snapping her fingers. “You’re a genius!”

  “Ooooo!” Ryan said. “Andrea called A.J. a genius. They must be in love!”

  “When are you gonna get married?” asked Michael.

  If those guys weren’t my best friends, I would hate them.

  A few minutes later, Mr. Macky came back from the teachers’ lounge. Emily was with him, eating a hot dog.

  “So how are you making out with Miss Klute?” Mr. Macky asked.

  “Ewwww! Gross!” we all shouted. “We’re not making out with Miss Klute!”

  “Arlo had a great idea,” Andrea said. “Go ahead; ask him, Arlo.”

  “Mr. Macky, can we take Miss Klute outside for recess?” I asked.

  “Gee, I don’t know,” Mr. Macky replied. “Miss Klute is trained to be an indoor therapy dog.”

  “Please please please please please please please please please!” we all begged.

  “I suppose Miss Klute could use a little fresh air,” said Mr. Macky. “Well, okay.”

  “Yay!”

  Like I said, that please please please thing works every time. It really is a magic word.

  Mr. Macky hooked Miss Klute’s leash to her collar and said we could take her outside until recess was over.

  “Which one of you is the most responsible?” he asked.

  “I am!” we all shouted.*

  “It was A.J.’s idea to take Miss Klute outside,” said Michael.

  “Okay,” Mr. Macky said, handing me the leash. “Be careful with her.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  When we got out to the playground, all the other kids came running over.

  “Miss Klute is here
!” everybody shouted. “Hi Miss Klute!”

  It was like she was the queen of the playground. Everybody wanted to pet her and hug her. We walked Miss Klute around and showed her the monkey bars, the swings, and the slide. She looked pretty happy.

  “See?” I said. “She likes being outside!”

  I should get the No Bell Prize for that idea. That’s a prize they give out to people who don’t have bells.

  Miss Klute was pulling at the leash, and I had to run to keep up with her. She was pretty fast for a big dog.

  “Hey, maybe we should play fetch,” I said, stopping to catch my breath.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Arlo,” Andrea said. “Mr. Macky didn’t say it was okay to let Miss Klute run around without holding her leash.”

  “He didn’t say it wasn’t okay either,” I told Andrea. “He just said to be careful with her.”

  Fetch is a simple game. You throw something, and the dog runs to get it. Then she brings it back and you throw it again. It seems like a pretty dumb game, if you ask me. But I guess playing fetch is like chess for dogs.

  There was a tennis ball in the grass. I let go of Miss Klute’s leash and threw the ball toward the soccer field.

  “Go get it, girl!” I shouted.

  Miss Klute took off, running like the wind.

  “Look at her go!” Ryan yelled.

  It was amazing! Miss Klute chased down the ball and caught it in her mouth even before it stopped bouncing. Then she ran back and dropped the ball at my feet.

  “Good girl!” we all said, petting Miss Klute.

  She was panting, and her tongue was hanging out.

  “Do it again, A.J.!” Neil said.

  I threw the ball a little farther this time, and Miss Klute took off after it. Again, she grabbed it in her mouth and brought it back to me. She looked like she wanted me to throw it again, so I did. She dashed off to get it.

  “Miss Klute sure likes to run!” shouted Ryan.

  “She’s having so much fun!” yelled Alexia.

  “I think she just wanted to play,” said Michael.

  “I’ve never seen her so happy!” shouted Andrea.

  That’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened. A squirrel ran out onto the soccer field.