Lucky Dog

by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel

  But now he had crumbs in his whiskers, and the pie tin was on the floor. And there wasn’t any more pie in it.

  It was Bad to go to another dog’s house and eat things. And though there was no dog living in this house, Henry knew he had done something Bad. Now Granny Lee might scold him in the Loud Voice.

  Granny Lee had told Henry to be Good when she put him in the car that morning. She told him again to be Good when the car hummed and purred for a very long time while Henry watched things whiz by the window. She told him to be Good when they stopped at a big green house and the man, woman, and small girl came out of the house. Granny Lee kept her hand on Henry’s collar when she hugged the little girl, who seemed to want to touch Henry but wouldn’t.

  Be Good, Henry.

  And now he had been Bad. No one had told Henry that, but he knew it just the same.

  He would take the pie tin and bury it. But to bury something, Henry needed to find a Digging Place. The Digging Place would be in the yard. Yards were on the other side of doors to Go Out. But where was the door to Go Out in this house?

  The red wood square in the kitchen smelled like a place to Go Out. Henry picked up the pie tin and carried it there. At Granny Lee’s house when he sat by the door to Go Out, she would come and open it. But Granny Lee did not come. She was in the big room, talking to the man and woman. He could hear her voice saying his name.

  “I’ve had Henry for six months now, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend. He’s such a good dog. I do wish you’d adopt one for Alice — it would be so good for her, and she can’t be frightened of ALL dogs!”

  Henry heard the words Good Dog, and his tail drooped. Good Dogs did not Go Out to bury pie tins with no pie in them.

  He turned around. The small girl had come into the kitchen. She watched Henry. Henry watched her.

  He wagged his tail and took a step toward the girl, but she jumped back. She was afraid of him. Henry knew that when a human smelled scared, especially a small human, it was best to go away and do something else. He turned back to the door and scratched it. Then he looked at the girl again. She looked at Henry, and she looked at the pie tin in his mouth, and she looked at the door to Go Out. Very carefully, she inched toward the door. She never took her eyes off Henry, and he never took his eyes off her. The girl opened the door a crack, then scurried away.

  Henry nudged the door open with his paw. Moments later, he was standing in a yard. But this yard was made of sidewalk stuff. There was no Digging Place. Henry could not bury the pie tin here.

  As he stood wondering what to do, Henry heard his name. Granny Lee was calling him from inside. Henry felt so Bad at that moment, he could only think of one other thing to do, which was something else Bad. He jumped the small gate, landing on the sidewalk with the pie tin still clutched between his teeth, and began to run.

  Henry did not stop running until he found a street where no cars were moving. He stood trying to pant without putting the tin down. Nothing looked familiar. Nothing smelled familiar. He could not hear Granny Lee calling his name anymore.

  But then he heard something else — a high, sharp bark in the distance. He put his ears up and listened hard, then he ran toward the sound. He saw a low building surrounded by lots of good Digging Places, and the air was full of the irresistible smell of dogs. Lots of them. Holding his tail a little higher, Henry ran toward the building.

  Now Henry’s eyes could see what his nose had already told him. Next to the building was a wonderful yard with a fence around it — an Outside for playing. And it was filled with puppies of all shapes and sizes. Henry could remember being in an Outside like this once before. A large man had taken him from a street like the one he was on now — a street with no familiar smells, no Soft Places or Kibble. That had been a cold time, when his stomach was always empty and nobody rubbed his head. But the man took him to a place with many other dogs, and one day Granny Lee was there. She had rubbed his head and looked into his eyes and called him her Heart Dog, and after that every day was Home.

  Henry trotted up to the fence, where a puppy was making a nice hole in the earth, big enough to fit a nose inside. Henry barked, and the puppy’s head flew up. She stared at Henry, her face, nose, and mouth covered with delicious-smelling dirt. She wagged her tail hard, and put her ears up. Henry wagged his tail hard too, and stretched his head toward the fence to get more of the good smell of puppy mixed with dirt.

  Between all the sniffing, Henry heard the sound of a human voice.

  “Daisy, no digging! Come here, girl! What have you — hey, who’s this?”

  The girl walking across the yard toward the fence was neither small nor large. As she approached the fence, Henry lifted his nose and sniffed curiously. This human was not afraid — she smelled of kindness and Squeaky Toys. Henry liked her, and he put his ears up and wagged his tail enthusiastically. The kind girl laughed.

  “He’s a beagle just like you, Daisy! And isn’t he a handsome boy! You wait right there, buddy, I’m going to come around and get you, okay? You wait.”

  Henry knew how to Wait; in fact he was sometimes very good at Wait, but not all the time. But Henry very much wanted to get closer to the kind girl. He could often guess when a human might be particularly good at rubbing ears or scratching tummies. This girl, Henry knew, would be good at both.

  Moments later a door in the building opened, and the girl came out carrying a leash.

  “Good boy!”

  Henry wagged his tail even harder than before and sat as still as he possibly could, happy to hear the word Good.

  “Nice boy. That’s right — I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The kind girl was right next to Henry now. She rubbed his head with one hand and clipped a leash to his collar with the other. Henry made a little whimper of happiness because it felt so good to have his head rubbed.

  “Come on inside, buddy, and we’ll get you sorted out. You look lost!”

  Henry wanted to roll over and show the girl his tummy, but Inside was fine, too. Maybe there would be a Squeaky Toy, or a Bone, or a Soft Place to sleep.

  Inside smelled very clean, with traces of many different dogs, and some Not Dogs, too. Henry trotted next to the kind girl, then waited patiently while she opened a door that led Outside for playing.

  “How do you get along with other dogs, buddy? I bet you’re very friendly. Do you like to play?”

  Henry barked when he heard Play, and was delighted to see the digging puppy race over to meet him. They touched noses and sniffed and wagged tails. The puppy pounced and whirled in a circle, and Henry pounced, too. The kind girl laughed and unclipped the leash.

  “You like Daisy, don’t you, buddy? Good boy — I bet you looked just like her when you were a pup!”

  Henry and Daisy pounced and scrambled on the grass. Another, larger human had joined the girl Outside, but Henry did not take much notice of the man. He was too interested in playing with Daisy.

  “Yeah, Rob, he was right outside the fence, saying hello to Daisy. The phone number on his tag isn’t local — it might be an Annapolis area code. Maybe he’s got a microchip. I’d say he’s definitely lost, though.”

  Daisy butted Henry with her nose and then wriggled onto her back like she wanted to have her head rubbed and her tummy scratched. Daisy was a good pup, but she needed her own human, so she could be a Heart Dog.

  That made Henry think of Granny Lee. His human. And how she had found him in a place like this once before and after that everything was Home. Henry stopped midpounce and looked through the fence to the grassy place where he had first sniffed Daisy. Standing there now was the small girl from the green house.

  Henry froze. His tail stopped wagging. His ears drooped slightly. He remembered that before the nice girl called him Good and rubbed his head and brought him to this Outside playing place, he had done something. Something Bad. And there was the pie tin lying right in the grass where Henry had left it, and the small girl had picked it up.

  “H
i! Hey, you don’t happen to be looking for a lost dog, do you? We just found a beagle! If you hang on a second, I’ll come around and let you in so you can get a better look at him!”

  It had felt so wonderful to be Good. Henry did not want to be Bad again, but his whiskers still smelled very faintly of pie, and Granny Lee would know it because she always knew things even when Henry thought he had done a thing nobody could ever know. Ignoring Daisy’s yaps, Henry ran to a bush in the corner of the yard and squeezed underneath it. He would stay here, where no one could see him, and though he would still not be Good, he wouldn’t be Bad either.

  “Where did he go? You said your name was Alice, right? I’m Abby, and I work here at the rescue center. I promise he’s in this yard somewhere, Alice. Don’t worry.”

  Henry stayed crouched low under the bush, but he pushed his head out far enough so his nose and his eyes could find out what was happening.

  There was the small girl, Alice. She was standing very close to the door to Inside, and though the other dogs kept right on playing and left her alone, Henry knew she was extra afraid.

  Unlike the other dogs, Daisy did not ignore Alice. She trotted right over to her and sat down and stared at her very hard. Henry knew Daisy was hoping with all her heart this little human might want to rub her head or scratch her tummy, or tell her she was Good. And suddenly Henry forgot about wanting to be Good and not wanting to be Bad, and all the pictures and smells in his head were replaced by his first Home memory when Granny Lee had found him in a place like this, and Henry had looked at her very hard. The way Daisy was looking at Alice. And Henry knew instantly that Alice was supposed to be Daisy’s human, and after this, every day should be Home for Daisy, too. Most dogs know right away when they find their human. But sometimes humans are a little slower to recognize their Heart Dog.

  Alice was shaking her head and backing closer to the door Inside. If Henry came out of his hiding place, Alice would see him and tell the kind girl — Abby — about the pie. But Henry had to make Alice see that she was Daisy’s human. There was only this chance, just now, while Daisy was still close enough to touch Alice. Henry knew that once Alice put her hand on Daisy’s soft head and looked into her liquid brown eyes, her fear would be gone and her heart would fill with love. The way Granny Lee’s heart had filled when she put her hand on Henry’s head.

  “Oh, there he is! Is that him, Alice? Is that your granny’s beagle?”

  “Yes — that’s him, but can we go inside, please, and call Granny from there?”

  Henry knew he had to pounce at just the right moment. He took a few running steps, launched himself into the air, and landed just where Daisy was still wagging her tail hopefully in the grass. As Henry collided with the puppy, the impact sent her tumbling head over paws in a hedgehog roll, right onto Alice’s feet.

  “Daisy!” Abby cried, and Alice made a small sound like “Oh!” and put her hand out to push the puppy off her feet.

  Then Alice froze, and Henry froze, and Abby froze, and for a moment every dog in the yard froze, too.

  Alice’s hand was lightly touching the top of Daisy’s head. After a moment, Alice bent down slightly. And Henry could see that Alice was looking right into Daisy’s big brown eyes. And just like that, the way the air changes when a new bag of kibble is ripped open, everything changed. Alice did not smell Afraid anymore. Alice smelled the way all humans did when their Heart Dog has found them.

  Abby led Henry inside to an office. He sat quietly, and after some time he heard a familiar voice in the hallway. The door to the office opened, and there was Granny Lee. Henry flung himself at her, wagging his tail and licking her hand and jumping up just a little. Granny Lee did not scold him at all.

  “Oh, Henry, thank goodness! Thank you so much, Abby — I can’t tell you how relieved I am to have Henry back!”

  “Well, you have your granddaughter to thank for that. She told me she saw him jump the fence in her yard and she followed him all the way here, then told us how to call her house to find you. She’s outside — she’s absolutely fallen in love with one of our puppies.”

  “Alice? Playing with a puppy? That doesn’t sound like my granddaughter!”

  Tail high, Henry followed Granny Lee and Abby back Outside. And though Granny Lee smelled very Surprised at what she saw there, Henry was not.

  When Granny Lee finally clipped Henry’s leash on to take him to her car, Alice had Daisy held tightly in her arms. When Henry jumped into the backseat, Alice climbed in carefully next to him, still holding Daisy tight. Alice held Daisy that way all the way back to the green house, and Henry knew there would be many things to do there. Bowls would be chosen and Soft Places to sleep would be made and heads would be rubbed and tummies scratched and from now on every day for Daisy would be Home.

  And very likely, nobody would ever think to mention the pie again.

  Elizabeth Cody Kimmel lives with her family in New York’s Hudson Valley. She is the author of many books for children, including Legend of the Ghost Dog, Balto and the Great Race, the Suddenly Supernatural series, and Paranorman. She spends her spare time reading, hiking, singing in the choir, and trying to communicate telepathically with her beagle.

  I turned off Grove Road, ran up the walkway, and dashed into the shelter’s reception area, twelve minutes later than usual. I waved to Aunt Nora, who was sitting behind the front counter, like always. She was the reason I got to run around the place. It was practically my second home. She threw me a smile. “What kind of market does a dog hate?” she asked me.

  “A flea market,” I said, rolling my eyes. Aunt Nora frowned. “You told me the same joke last week,” I explained.

  “I need new material,” she said with a small nod. “And you’re late.”

  “I know. We have a new crossing guard at school. He’s slooooow.” Anytime a car came within a mile of the street we had to wait. And wait. I’m all for safe street crossing, but he would have to chill. There’s safe, and then there’s paranoid.

  I pushed my way through the doors that led into the back kennel.

  In my rush, I nearly ran over Mr. Cole, who runs the Pawley Rescue Center. He’s always reading papers and walking, so he doesn’t always pay attention to where he’s going. I sidestepped just in time to avoid a serious crash.

  Now he could use a crossing guard.

  “No running, Quentin!” he warned me.

  “Sorry!” I said, slowing down just a little. “Excuse me!”

  “Good afternoon, Quentin,” said Dr. Mehta, the head veterinarian. She was holding a hamster. You wouldn’t think a hamster would end up at a rescue center, but I guess everyone needs a place to stay sometimes, even little guys. “He’s waiting for you. You’re late.”

  “New crossing guard,” I explained, hurrying to the back.

  Rob Matthews had been working at the shelter as long as my aunt Nora. He was already holding Farfel when I got to the back. He handed her to me. “Hey, man. You’re late.”

  I nodded. I’d really have to set that new crossing guard straight.

  I held Farfel and her face lit up like a thousand holiday lights. I bet mine did, too. I’ve been stopping by the shelter to play with her every day since she came in, just over a month earlier. She had been only a few weeks old when she was abandoned in front of the shelter one night. She was so small and so quiet! She was super shy around everyone except me. When I came in, she’d start yapping and bouncing.

  She was practically mine, even though she lived at the shelter.

  Farfel jumped up and threw a flurry of excited licks all over my face. “Calm down, girl,” I said, giggling.

  I carried her to the back play area. It was a small, carpeted room just for puppies like Farfel so they could run around without any worries about getting injured. I scratched her white furry chest and then rubbed her sleek black back. Farfel was a Bernese mountain dog, so she was black and white, with some rust-colored markings above her eyes and to the side of her mouth. Bernese mountain
dogs grow to be pretty big, but Farfel was only fifteen pounds. She wouldn’t hit her full weight and height until she was two or three. Still, she would probably be close to eighty pounds before she was a year old.

  “I have a surprise for you,” I said. I pulled out the new rubber bone from my backpack. I bought it from the pet store the other night with birthday money. My birthday was in two days, but Grandma sent her check early.

  I really wanted to drop off the bone before school but that would have meant skipping class and Mom would have killed me. I was already on thin ice, too — our teacher had handed our history tests back. I got a C. Mom would be disappointed. She got straight As in school. She was practically a genius.

  “I’m going to the game tomorrow!” I told Farfel, although she knew that already. I had only mentioned it about a zillion times. Mom promised to get us tickets to see the Washington Wizards. They play only about an hour away, but I’d never been to a professional basketball game before. It was going to be the best birthday ever.

  Going to the game was the only present I wanted. Well, not really. But it was the only present I wrote on my birthday list. Two years before I had asked for a dog and instead Mom bought me sweaters. Then the past year I had asked for a dog and Mom bought me pants. There was nothing worse than getting clothes for a gift. Mom was going to buy me clothes anyway — it wasn’t like she would let me go to school naked. So getting clothes for my birthday was practically the same as getting nothing.

  I wasn’t making that mistake again. I didn’t need any more clothes. So this time I wasn’t asking for something that pooped or made a mess. That’s what Mom said is the only thing dogs were good for. You know, sometimes Mom didn’t know so much for being a genius and all.

  Besides, going to a basketball game would be great. Not dog-great, but still pretty awesome.

  When I got home, Mom was working, like usual. When she heard me walk in, she came out of her office and smiled. Her smile always made me smile. “How was school?” she asked.