Follow That Furball

by Nancy Krulik

  That’s strange. The two-legs aren’t even looking where they’re throwing. They’ve turned around to show me their tails. Except two-legs don’t have tails.

  Ping! Another flat metal rock hits me. “That’s not nice,” I bark at the two-legs.

  Splash! A two-leg in a white hat leaps into the giant water bowl. He runs through the water straight toward me.

  The two-leg reaches for me.

  Oh no! Is this two-leg a dogcatcher?

  I swim out of the way. Water splashes right in his face.

  “You won’t catch me!” I bark as I paddle away from him.

  The two-leg tries to grab me again. Splat! He falls face-first into the water. When he stands up, water drips from under his hat. Gooey green gunk hangs from his nose.

  The crowd of two-legs outside the water bowl begins to laugh.

  But the wet two-leg isn’t laughing. He’s growling—at me!

  I paddle away from him.

  The two-leg runs toward me. Whoops. He slips and goes under the water again.

  The crowd laughs.

  Paddle. Paddle. Paddle.

  Run. Run. Slip.

  The two-leg falls backward, and lands right where his tail would be—if two-legs had tails. He sits up and spits a big arc of water out of his mouth.

  I reach the side of the bowl and leap out. Now I’m back on the street. But I’m stuck in a big crowd of two-legs.

  “Sparky! What are you doing?”

  I know that voice! It’s Bernardo. He’s standing in the middle of the crowd of two-legs.

  “I’m trying to get my bone back from a mean old cat,” I tell him. “But I can’t get past all these people.”

  “Shake your fur,” Bernardo tells me.

  “Huh?” I ask him. “Why?”

  “Just do it,” Bernardo says. “Trust me.”

  So I shake. Shakity, shake, shake. I shake like I never shook before.

  Icy cold water flies from my fur. The two-legs in the crowd leap out of the way.

  That’s more like it! Now I have room to run! Bernardo is one smart dog.

  I take off down the block, away from the icy cold water bowl. Suddenly I hear paw steps behind me. I turn my head to see who it is. Wow! Bernardo is following me. Boy, am I glad. I definitely need a friend right now.

  Bernardo and I run, run, run. And we don’t stop running until we are alone.

  “I could sure use that cold water bowl now,” I say, panting. “All that running made me thirsty.”

  “What cold water bowl?” Bernardo asks me.

  “The water bowl I jumped out of before I saw you,” I say. “That water was so cold, the two-legs in it couldn’t move. I wonder how long they were standing in there.”

  Bernardo starts to laugh. I don’t know why. I didn’t say anything funny.

  “That wasn’t a water bowl,” he explains. “It was a fountain. The Trevi Fountain. And those weren’t real two-legs in the water. Those were stone statues.”

  “Are you sick?” I ask him.

  “No, why?” Bernardo asks me.

  “You sneezed,” I reply.

  “No I didn’t,” he tells me.

  “Sure you did,” I insist. “Stat-choo.”

  “No, statue,” Bernardo corrects me. “That is the name for the two-legs made of stone. And there were stone horse statues in that fountain, too.”

  I hadn’t seen the stone horse statues. I had been too busy paddling away from the dogcatcher.

  “Oh. Now I understand,” I tell Bernardo. “But what about the other two-legs? The ones throwing flat rocks. Those were real, right?”

  “Sure,” Bernardo agrees. “Only they weren’t throwing rocks into the fountain. They were throwing coins. Two-legs believe if they throw a coin into Trevi Fountain, they will return to Rome someday.”

  Wow. Rome sure is confusing. They have fake two-legs and real two-legs. And the fake two-legs never move, while the real two-legs leave and then want to come back again. I don’t understand two-legs very well.

  “That must be one special bone,” Bernardo says. “I’ve never seen a dog swim in the Trevi Fountain.”

  Gulp. What do I do now? I really need Bernardo’s help if I’m going to find that fat gray cat. But if I tell him about my bone, he might want to take it for himself.

  Still, I have no idea where that cat is. And I don’t know anyone else in Rome who could help me . . .

  “It is special,” I tell him. “My bone is magic. And it’s the only thing that can take me home.”

  Bernardo gives me a funny look. “I’ve never heard of a bone like that before.”

  “Me neither,” I admit. “But it’s true. My bone takes me all over. Which is kind of fun. And scary. But the good thing is, no matter where it’s taken me, my bone has always brought me home again.”

  Bernardo doesn’t answer. I can’t tell if he believes me or not. Finally he smiles. “I don’t know about magic,” he says. “But I do know that bones are for dogs. And cats are mean. They’ve teased me, too. Stealing meatballs right out from under me and chewing them right in my face. Those cats get away with way too much here. I’m going to help you, Sparky. The cats aren’t going to win this time!”

  CHAPTER 5

  “MEEEEOOOOWWWWW!”

  Before I can even say thank you, I hear a cat calling to me. I look up into a nearby tree.

  “Look, Bernardo! There he is! All the way at the top,” I say.

  It’s the fat gray cat. “Meow!”

  Then I hear another cat sound. This one is coming from a tree across the street. I look up into that tree. There he is! All the way at the top. A fat gray cat. Who looks just like the other fat gray cat.

  Uh-oh. There are two fat gray cats.

  “I know those cats,” Bernardo growls angrily. “That one overhead is Paolo. And the one across the street is Marco. Those two are always causing trouble together.”

  Now I know the cats’ names. But I don’t know which of them stole my bone. The cats are way up in the trees, and I can’t tell which cat has my bone.

  “Cats are such meanies,” I growl.

  “You can say that again,” Bernardo tells me.

  “Cats are such meanies,” I growl again.

  “Meow!” Paolo leaps off his tree branch and runs up the street to my right.

  “Meow!” Marco leaps off his branch and runs down the street to my left.

  I have to follow that cat. But which cat?

  Sniff, sniff, sniff. To my left, I smell meat—chicken, beef, and sausage all rolled into one. Is that my bone? Or is it the food on the tables along the street where the two-legs are eating?

  Sniff, sniff, sniff. Now I smell meat coming from my right—chicken, beef, and sausage all rolled into one. Could that be my bone?

  “Meow!” Marco hollers.

  “Meow!” Paolo hollers.

  I HATE CATS!

  I can’t just stand here sniffing. I have to choose a cat to follow.

  “There’s the bone!” Bernardo shouts suddenly. “Marco has it!”

  I look over and see Marco with something in his mouth. It’s long and white and smells delicious. My magic bone!

  “I’m going to get you!” I bark to Marco. “AND I’M TAKING BACK MY BONE!” Marco’s paws zoom through the streets of Rome. And I head off after him.

  “Sparky! Watch out!” Bernardo shouts.

  Whoosh! Just then, a metal machine with two round paws whizzes past me. Whoosh! Whoosh! And another. I leap backward just in time. Phew. That was close.

  “Thanks,” I say to Bernardo. I’m glad he warned me.

  But I’m also sad. Because Marco got across the street before the metal machines whizzed by. Now he’s way ahead of me.

  “MEAN METAL MACHINES!” I bark. “WHY DID YOU RUIN
EVERYTHING?”

  The metal machines don’t answer me.

  They can’t. They’re not here anymore. They’re long gone. Just like that cat.

  Suddenly, my eyes spot something across the street. There are two stone buildings on either side of a road. And behind those two buildings there are trees.

  My ears perk up. They hear something across the street.

  “Meow! Meow!”

  “Let’s try the park,” Bernardo tells me. “Marco and Paolo have a lot of friends there. They might go just to show off your bone.”

  That makes me really mad! “Come on, Bernardo!” I shout to my friend. “We have to hurry!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Cats! Cats! Cats! Everywhere I look, I see cats. White cats. Black cats. Striped cats. Speckled cats. Everything but gray cats. I don’t see Marco or Paolo anywhere. Not walking in the grass. Or climbing in the trees. Or sitting by the water. Or watching two-legs ride by on slow-moving metal machines with two round paws.

  “Hiss!” Suddenly, a black-and-white cat bares her claws at Bernardo and me.

  “Scat, cats!” I bark. But the cats don’t scat. They want Bernardo and me to scat.

  Uh-uh. No way. Not happening. Dogs don’t scat!

  Just then, I hear some strange noises coming from beyond the trees. It doesn’t sound like cats. It doesn’t sound like any animal I know.

  Still, it doesn’t sound scary. Or angry. It actually sounds kind of happy.

  “Do you think Paolo and Marco could be over there?” I ask Bernardo.

  Bernardo thinks for a minute. “By the carousel?” he suggests. “Maybe. We can look.”

  I don’t know what a carousel is. But I know I’m going there.

  Good-bye, angry cats. We’re outta here.

  (But just so you cats know, we’re not scatting. We’re exploring. I want to make that clear.)

  Wiggle, waggle, wow.

  “Horses!” I bark excitedly to Bernardo as I run toward the happy noises. “Josh and I see horses sometimes when we go to the park.”

  “Those aren’t exactly horses . . . ,”

  Bernardo tells me.

  I don’t know what he’s talking about. They sure look like horses. They’re big, and they have a strip of fur on their heads like horses do. And they have horse-shaped paws. And there are two-legs riding on top of them. Well, little two-legs. But two-legs just the same.

  Only unlike the horses in the park near my house, these horses aren’t running anywhere. They’re just circling around and around, winding up back where they started. Wiggle, waggle, weird.

  I walk over to where the horses are. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Strange. These horses don’t smell like any horses Josh and I have seen.

  I rub my back up against one of them. They don’t feel like any four-legs I’ve ever met. They don’t have fur. These horses feel hard, like trees.

  Rome is one strange place.

  “There they are!” Bernardo shouts out suddenly. “Over there behind the giant pumpkin.”

  “Behind the what?” I call back. But before he can answer, someone answers for him.

  “Mee-hee-hee-ow!”

  Wiggle, waggle, wait a minute! What’s that I see perched on the back of that big horse? Cats. Big, fat gray cats. And one of them has my bone!

  My tail starts wagging. My heart starts thumping. Then my paws start running.

  “GIVE ME BACK MY BONE!” I bark as I leap toward the cats.

  “Meow!” Marco and Paolo pounce onto the top of a teeny, tiny machine with four round paws that is going around and around.

  I’m right behind them. “GIVE ME BACK MY BONE!” I bark to the cats. “GIVE ME . . .”

  Bonk! Ow! I just banged into a big, hard horse with my head.

  “Mee-hee-hee-ow!” Marco and Paolo are laughing at me.

  “It’s not funny!” I whimper. “That horse hurt.”

  One of the little two-legs on top of a horse starts to cry.

  “You have to be careful on a carousel,” Bernardo barks to me.

  It’s nice to have a friend who cares about me. Because those cats sure don’t care. They leap off the back of the mini metal machine and land on a seat inside a giant cup.

  Two little two-legs sitting in the cup start crying. A crowd of angry two-legs gathers around us.

  “Look what you did,” I bark at Marco and Paolo.

  Paolo shakes my bone in the air. What a show-off!

  I race over and start barking at him. “Give that to me!”

  “Give that bone back!” Bernardo barks.

  Just then, a large two-leg races over. He starts shouting—at Bernardo and me! He wants us to go away.

  “You shouldn’t yell at us,” I bark back. “It was those nasty, bone-stealing cats. We wouldn’t even be here if they hadn’t stolen my bone. You should be yelling at them.”

  Of course the two-leg has no idea what I’m barking about. And that’s when I realize the two-leg can’t yell at those nasty, bone-stealing cats. They’re not here anymore. They’ve jumped off the carousel. And right now they’re running back through the trees—with my bone.

  I can’t waste any more time standing here barking at the big two-leg. I have to fetch my bone!

  CHAPTER 7

  Grumble. Rumble.

  That’s my tummy talking. I may not speak cat or two-leg. But I do speak tummy. And mine is telling me it’s really, really hungry.

  Sniff, sniff, sniff. Mmm . . . Right now, Rome smells like meatballs, sausage, fish, and bread. Sniff, sniff, sniff. And cheese, too!

  The smell is coming from the tables where some two-legs are eating. I sure hope they are the sharing kind of two-legs. Because, boy, am I hungry.

  I look up at one of the tables. There’s a two-leg eating some stringy white stuff. On the chair next to her is a terrier. He’s eating some yummy meatballs.

  A dog! Sitting right there at the table with a two-leg and eating from a two-leg bowl! Wow! These two-legs must be the kind who actually share with dogs!

  “Lunchtime, Bernardo!” I bark.

  Bernardo shakes his head and moves away. He must not be hungry. Okay. That means more food for me!

  Wiggle, waggle, wow! Another two-leg has just picked up a big piece of sausage. He’s bending over and handing it down to . . .

  A cat!

  Oh no. “Give it to me! To me!” I bark excitedly. “Dogs love sausage!”

  Plop. Just then a meatball drops onto the ground. It rolls toward me. Wiggle, waggle, yum! Meatballs are the best. They’re meat and a ball. What could be better?

  This is my chance. I run over to grab the meatball. “Mine! Mine!” I bark.

  “Meow!” A white cat pounces on my meatball.

  “Hey! Give that back!” I bark at her. “I saw it first.”

  The cat doesn’t even look at me. She just takes a bite of the meatball.

  A two-leg walks over to the cat and me. He starts yelling something in two-leg. I can’t understand what he’s saying, but I can tell that he’s angry.

  I bet he’s telling that cat to scat. He knows I saw that meatball first.

  Only the cat isn’t scatting. And the two-leg isn’t looking at her. He’s looking at me. And motioning for me to scat.

  “But I saw that meatball first!” I bark at the two-leg. “And I’m really hungry.”

  “Meow.” The white cat looks at me and smiles. Her tummy is full. With my meatball.

  “Come on, Sparky,” Bernardo says. “Let’s get out of here.”

  My tummy is empty. And my ears hurt from the two-leg shouting. There’s no reason for me to stick around here anymore. So my paws start to run after Bernardo. And run. Away from the two-leg. Away from the table. Away from that cat.

  We finally stop running when we reach a teeny, tiny stre
et that’s dark and especially quiet. There aren’t any cats. At least none that I can see.

  “I don’t get it, Bernardo,” I tell him. “How come that one dog got to sit at the table and eat with the two-legs, but no one would even throw me a meatball?”

  “Some dogs in Rome are lucky,” Bernardo tells me. “Their two-legs bring them to eat with them at the cafés. Those dogs get to eat pieces of meatball and strings of fresh pasta. But for the rest of us . . .”

  Bernardo doesn’t finish his sentence. But I know what he means. The cats who live on the streets of Rome get fed by two-legs. But the dogs who live on the streets just get yelled at.

  I bury my head in my paws. I want to go home. I want to see Frankie and Samson. And Josh. Especially Josh. I miss him most of all. I wouldn’t mind eating nothing but kibble forever and ever if I could just go home.

  “I want my bone!” I whimper. “I want to go home!” I back into a corner and lie down.

  But Bernardo isn’t backing into any corner. He stands up and starts walking straight ahead. “Come on, Sparky,” he barks to me.

  I pick my head up off the ground. “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “We’re going to a place with lots and lots of cats.”

  I don’t like the sound of that. But I don’t want to stay here by myself. It’s too dark and scary. Not that cats aren’t scary, too. They are.

  Be brave, I bark to myself as I run off after Bernardo. Brave-ity, brave, brave.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Come on, heart, stop thumpety, thump, thumping,” I tell my scared heart. “Tail, stop hiding between my legs. There’s no reason to be afraid.”

  Just then a cat jumps out from behind a big stone wall. It’s not Marco or Paolo. But it’s a cat with claws. Sharp claws.

  I don’t like cat claws. And there are a lot of them here.

  Okay, maybe there’s a reason to be scared. But that won’t stop me. I’m getting my bone back!