by Daphne Maple
12
After we left the shelter we took a quick trip into town. Our parents had agreed we could have a half hour to buy our Dog Club notebook and start writing at the Rox before Taylor and Sasha had to go home for dinner (and in Sasha’s case, a post-shelter shower).
“Oh, how about this blue one?” Taylor asked, taking an aqua notebook off the shelf at Greenway Stationery.
“I’m not sure there are enough pages in it,” I said. “What about this one?” I pulled out a tan notebook with two hundred pages.
Taylor wrinkled her nose. “It’s ugly,” she said.
“We can decorate it,” I said.
“Yeah, but we’ll still be able to see that tan that looks like the walls in Mrs. Benson’s room,” she said.
I looked at the notebook again and realized she had a point. I put it back on the shelf immediately. “Right, no way we’re getting that one.”
Sasha laughed. “The last thing I need is to be reminded of school in our precious hours away from it.”
Sasha didn’t have trouble with school like I did but it wasn’t as if any of us liked Mrs. Benson. The good news for me was that I’d done a lot better on our last pop quiz. Now if I could just get the essay done I’d be set. But I’d worry about that later.
“None of the other notebooks are big enough,” Taylor said, flipping through them.
“What if we get a binder?” Sasha asked. “That way we can add pages as we need them.”
“Oh, good idea,” I said. I walked over to the binder section and took a red one off the shelf. “How about this one?” I asked.
Sasha and Taylor nodded.
“And it doesn’t remind anyone of school?”
They both laughed and shook their heads.
We grabbed some dog stickers and a pack of paper, then went up to the counter to pay.
“Hey, there, Kim and Sasha,” Mr. Pepper, the owner of the store, said. “It looks like your twosome has become the three musketeers.”
I grinned. “This is Taylor.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mr. Pepper said. “I’ll look forward to seeing you around.”
“Thanks,” Taylor said with a smile.
We paid and I tucked the binder and paper into my backpack.
“Everyone’s so nice here,” Taylor said when we were back on the sidewalk, headed for the Rox.
“It’s true,” I said, feeling proud of Roxbury Park. It really was an awesome place to live. “Maybe that’s why we name everything after our town,” I added with a grin.
Taylor and Sasha laughed as we walked into the Rox. We settled into a booth and my mom came out of the kitchen to bring us a steaming basket of sweet potato fries.
“Mom, this is Taylor,” I said, reaching for some fries.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Taylor said.
I could tell my mom liked Taylor’s Southern manners because her eyes were shining as she smiled at her. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard Kim and Sasha raving about the magnificent Taylor.”
“And I’m even better than they said, right?” Taylor asked, grinning.
“Her modesty is one of her best qualities,” I said.
My mom and Sasha laughed.
“These fries are incredible, Mrs. Feeny,” Taylor said, taking one out of the basket.
“I’m glad you like them,” my mom said. “One of these days you’ll have to come over for a real meal.”
Taylor smiled. “I’d like that,” she said.
I knew I would too. And I could tell by the huge grin spreading across Sasha’s face that she felt the same way.
My mom headed back to the kitchen. I realized we didn’t have much time left so I wiped my fingers on a napkin and pulled out our new Dog Club binder. “Let’s get started.”
We made a page for each of the five dogs, then wrote down some of the things we’d observed over the day.
“Humphrey moves around more when he’s playing with Gus,” Sasha said.
“Yeah, I noticed that too,” I said, writing it down. “We should definitely make sure they spend a lot of time together.”
“We don’t want to let our Humphrey get lazy,” Sasha agreed. “Well, lazier anyway.”
“Daisy got pushed to the side a little when Boxer and Coco were playing fetch,” I said, still writing. “So we should find ways to include her more.”
“Maybe make sure she plays with some other dogs?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “And Hattie was a little more independent today. I saw her following Humphrey around.”
“That’s a cute set of doggy friends,” Sasha said, grinning.
“I think Humphrey liked her too,” I said.
Sasha’s cell phone rang. “It’s my mom,” she said. “I have to go.”
She slid out of the booth while clicking on the phone, waving to us as she left.
“I should get going too,” Taylor said. “My dad is cooking up his famous fried chicken.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
“We’ll have to have you over for dinner the next time he makes it,” Taylor said. “You haven’t lived till you’ve eaten real Southern fried chicken.”
“I’d love that,” I said. It would be really fun to meet Taylor’s family. And introduce her to the rest of mine.
I waved as she headed out. Then I bent down over our notebook, adding every detail I’d noticed during the very first club meeting at the shelter. We’d hit a few rough patches, which made sense for the first day. But I wanted everything from here on out to be perfect.
It rained Wednesday morning but by the time we got to the shelter, club dogs in hand, the sun was shining. As planned Sasha arrived at the shelter first, while Taylor and I took the long way around with our dogs. Tim and Caley came next, with Coco. The three of them settled their dogs in and were ready to help when I showed up with Humphrey and Gus. Taylor came last with Daisy, who moseyed over to Lily and began a happy game of tug-of-war with a brand-new plastic bone.
“I got some new toys,” Alice said as she came out of her office. She was wearing her “Peace, Love, and Dogs” shirt, which was becoming my favorite. “Much needed, I have to say. And I got rid of the ones that were truly falling apart.”
“Great,” I said, looking around and seeing several new balls, chew toys, and pull toys.
“I held on to Boxer’s green Frisbee though,” she said, smiling. “He’d be heartbroken if I got rid of it.”
We all agreed with that.
“It’s so nice out after all that rain,” Sasha said as Alice went to take Popsicle for a walk. “Let’s all go outside.”
“Great idea,” Taylor said. “Running around sounds good after that quiz in English.”
Sasha stuck out her tongue. “Two pop quizzes in a row is not fair,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” I agreed. This quiz had caught me by surprise and I had missed two of the answers. Which wasn’t that bad but I’d really have to stay on top of my reading if I wanted to keep my quiz grades up. Plus there was the essay to worry about. It was due a week from Monday and I still hadn’t figured out how to get started writing it.
We told Tim and Caley our plan for the afternoon. They stayed back to work on some office records for Alice while Sasha, Taylor, the dogs, and I headed outside. I picked up a new tennis ball from the bin on the porch and threw it, laughing as most of the dogs took off after it. Soon we were all racing around in the big yard with the pack of dogs. Boxer and Coco stuck together in their pursuit of the green Frisbee while the others raced after tennis balls that Taylor and I kept throwing as soon as one dog brought one back. Now that Alice had replenished supplies we had a lot of them.
“Ugh,” Taylor said as Lily enthusiastically rubbed a muddy ball on her clean jeans.
“Looks like someone else needs shelter clothes,” I said, laughing.
I grabbed the ball and tossed it into the far corner of the yard, where it landed with a wet smack in a m
ud puddle left over from the rain earlier. Lily had gotten lured into a tug-of-war game with Gus, but Hattie and Clarabelle, who were now fast friends, raced for the muddy ball. A moment later they were back, covered with mud and wriggling with joy.
“What is going on?”
A sharp voice cut across the yard and all of us, dogs and humans alike, froze. A tall woman in spiky heels and a perfectly tailored white dress was standing on the porch, her face twisted as though she had just smelled a dead rat.
I was closest to her so I cleared my throat. “The dogs are playing,” I said, hoping it didn’t sound too obvious. I wasn’t really sure what she meant since it was clear what was going on.
“But why is my Clarabelle, who was just groomed yesterday, completely filthy?” she asked.
Yikes. This must be Mrs. Whitman. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. I followed her gaze and saw that Clarabelle’s snowy cloud-puffs of fur had turned into soggy, muddy messes. And I realized that for Mrs. Whitman, with her classically groomed dog and rules about shoes in the house, this was a very bad thing. I just wished I’d realized it earlier, before we took Clarabelle outside. Now it was too late.
“Hello, Mrs. Whitman,” Sasha called weakly.
“Sasha, I’m surprised your mother would allow you to work in a place like this,” Mrs. Whitman said. “Where is Alice? Isn’t she the one in charge here?”
This was going from bad to worse.
“I’m Kim,” I said, hurrying up the porch step. I reached out my hand but then realized it was covered with mud and snatched it back quickly. “Sasha, Taylor, and I run the club.” I realized I had a streak of mud on my face that was drying in a crusty line. I probably looked completely irresponsible to glamorous Mrs. Whitman.
Sure enough she took a step back to keep her distance. “There has to be more than just a group of children in charge,” she said disdainfully. “And you should know better than to let the dogs run about willy-nilly. I’d like to speak to Alice immediately.”
I gulped and ran inside for Alice. Luckily she had just gotten back and was hanging up Popsicle’s leash. “We have a problem with one of the customers,” I told Alice, feeling awful. I had wanted to show her we could handle the club and instead I was begging for her help on only the second day.
But Alice just nodded, smoothed her hair, and followed me to the back porch.
“Aren’t you the person who is supposed to be overseeing this operation?” Mrs. Whitman snapped.
Clarabelle was still chasing Hattie and had leaves clinging to her fur and a tuft of grass stuck to the top of her head. It would have been funny if it didn’t mean we were in even worse trouble.
“What seems to be the problem?” Alice asked in a calm, firm voice, the one that dogs instantly obeyed.
Sure enough Mrs. Whitman’s tone was more polite as she explained that Clarabelle had just been groomed.
“Perhaps in the future you could communicate with us about such things,” Alice said. “But I think it’s also important that you understand dogs at the club play inside and out. We will never let them get injured or participate in anything unsafe, but they may come home a bit messy.”
“Well, then I’m not sure this is the right place for us,” Mrs. Whitman sniffed.
“Perhaps not,” Alice said diplomatically. “And I’m sorry if the parameters of the club weren’t clearer when you joined. Kim, can you help Mrs. Whitman get Clarabelle ready to leave?”
Alice didn’t sound upset but my cheeks were flaming as I called Clarabelle over, then brought her in and snapped on her leash. Mrs. Whitman snatched it out of my hands and left without a word, careful not to let her dog’s fur touch her outfit. I had sick feeling in my stomach as the door shut behind her.
What if all the other customers hated what we were doing and took their dogs away too?
13
Things were more subdued for the rest of the afternoon, at least as subdued as they can be with a bunch of energetic dogs running around. I tried to lose myself in the fun but I couldn’t stop worrying about what was going to happen when the other owners showed up for their dogs. At this point every dog was pretty muddy.
Mrs. Cronin was first. Alice brought her out to the porch and my throat tightened as I watched her seek out Humphrey, who was playing fetch with Popsicle and Gus. When she saw him, her face lit up.
“He looks so happy,” Mrs. Cronin said, coming up to me and putting an arm around my shoulders. She didn’t seem to care about how muddy I was or that Humphrey’s paws looked like they had been dipped in chocolate. “I love to see him like this.”
I relaxed against her, feeling like I could breathe for the first time since Mrs. Whitman had come.
“Yeah, I think he’s really enjoying himself,” I said.
Sasha came up, her face dotted with sweat. “Want to throw the ball for him?” she asked Mrs. Cronin.
Mrs. Cronin was still dressed for work in her heels and suit but she took the ball without hesitating and tossed it for Humphrey and his new friends. They all took off after it, Humphrey chugging along on his short legs.
Mrs. Cronin burst out laughing at the sight. “Thank you for this,” she said. “I hated thinking of him stuck home alone and now I know he’ll be here, having fun with his doggy friends and getting the exercise he needs. It’s perfect.”
Just then Mrs. Torres came into the yard and Daisy ran up to her, barking. Mrs. Torres rubbed her knuckles along Daisy’s head while greeting her lovingly. When she was done she looked up at Sasha and me with a grin. “I can tell someone had a good time at Dog Club,” she said.
“Yeah, I had trouble keeping up with her,” Taylor said, coming up to us. I noticed a small twig stuck on one of her braids and I pulled it out for her.
I was finally feeling better, now that two owners were so happy with the club. But the thought of what had happened with Clarabelle still needled at me.
“So what did these guys get up to?” Mrs. Cronin asked as Humphrey headed back to Popsicle and Gus.
As Sasha began to fill her in on the day, a new idea came to me, an idea that just might prevent any more situations like the one with Clarabelle.
14
As soon as the final owner had come for Dog Club pickup, Alice called us into her office. We filed in and sat on the sofa but I stayed perched on the edge, eager to spill my new idea.
“There’s something I think we should do,” I blurted out before Alice had even sat down in her desk chair. “So that we don’t have any more unhappy owners like Mrs. Whitman.” As soon as the words were out I realized that since Alice had called the meeting she probably wanted to be the one to start it. But she smiled and nodded at me to continue, so I did.
“Actually, first I want to say I’m really sorry about what happened with Clarabelle, Alice,” I said. I still felt bad whenever I thought about Mrs. Whitman snapping at Alice.
But Alice shook her head. “No need to apologize,” she said. “Sometimes dogs get dirty when they play. We do need to make some changes about how we communicate with the owners, so there aren’t surprises like that. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about. But Kim, it seems like you’ve already thought of something, so let’s hear it.”
I took a deep breath and jumped in. “Okay, so you know how when Mrs. Torres and Mrs. Cronin got here they asked all about what their dogs did at the club?” I was bouncing a little on my seat as I spoke. “I was thinking we could have a section on the website where we post messages about all the stuff the dogs do every day.”
“I love that!” Sasha exclaimed. “Like we could write about how Hattie and Daisy love playing with the new green ball and spent forty minutes playing fetch together.”
“Exactly,” I said, grinning. Sasha always got exactly what I was thinking.
“We could take pictures and post them too,” Taylor added. “So the owners could really see what goes on here at the club.”
I grinned at her. She was pretty good at getting my ideas too.<
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“We could post every day, so the owners would always have an update on what their dogs did each day,” I said. “And any potential clients who want to know more about the club will see it too. That way there aren’t any surprises about what goes on at Dog Club.”
“If an owner who wants her dog to stay neat reads about a day of fetch in the yard after a rainstorm, and sees a picture of Humphrey looking like he rolled in a pigpen, they know exactly what they’re signing up for,” Taylor said with a grin.
I nodded, laughing.
“And the owners whose dogs attend the club can get a good sense of what their dogs have been up to,” Alice added, her eyes shining. “It’s a terrific idea, Kim. And I’d be happy to show you how to post it on the shelter’s website.”
I finally sank back against the sofa, relief coursing through me. Yes, we’d had a setback, but we’d figured out how to move forward!
A few minutes later we said good-bye to Alice, Tim, and Caley, and headed outside. The sun was low in the sky, casting a golden glow over Main Street. We waved to a group of kids from school as they passed us. They had clearly come from a baseball game in the park, and were walking with their gloves and bats slung over their shoulders.
“I love the idea of writing up what the dogs do every day,” Taylor said, pulling her pink hoodie closer around her shoulders as a cool breeze blew by. “And I was thinking we should give it a name.”
“How about the Roxbury Park Dog Update?” I joked and they both laughed.
“I think we need to leave Roxbury Park out of this one,” Taylor said with a grin.
“What about Notes from the Dogs?” Sasha asked.
Taylor frowned. “That sounds like we’re teaching the dogs to write notes to people.”
I laughed. “I think she’s right,” I told Sasha, who pretended to sulk.
“I was thinking we could call it the Dog Club Diary,” Taylor said.
I nodded and so did Sasha, though a bit reluctantly. “It is better than mine,” she sighed theatrically.
Taylor grinned. “You could try to teach the dogs to write if you want,” she said.