by Daphne Maple
“See you guys in homeroom,” Taylor said, turning into the alcove where her locker was.
“See you there,” Kim and I called, and then a moment later Kim stopped at her locker.
I threaded my way through the mass of people, down the hall that was papered with posters announcing different club meetings and sporting events to attend. I kind of wished I had time to join girls’ volleyball—the team was really good—or sign up for the musical. But I was busy enough with dance classes and the shelter. And of course researching different pets to find the one my mom would finally allow.
Because that was my most important activity of all.
3
“Who’s a sweet boy?” I crooned to Gus, a playful chocolate Lab who was jumping around as I let myself into his house. As soon as I was in he ran over to be petted, his whole body wriggling in delight.
I sat on the floor so I could give him a good rub and he butted his head gently against me, panting happily.
There was nothing in the world as wonderful as doggy love!
After a few minutes I got up and grabbed his leash, which was on the hall table, right where his owners always left it for the walk to Dog Club. I snapped it on Gus’s collar and off we went. I almost forgot to lock the front door but I remembered before we were even off the porch, so it didn’t really count.
“Are you looking forward to seeing your friends?” I asked Gus, who bounced along happily next to me. I knew the answer to the question—all the club dogs loved their time at the shelter. Instead of being stuck home alone they had dogs to run with and people to play with. It was the perfect solution for dogs who got lonely.
But it had also been the perfect solution for the shelter. When we first started working there we learned that Alice, the owner, was running out of money. If she didn’t find a new source of income, the shelter would have to close. It was Kim who came up with the brilliant plan of the Dog Club. At first Alice wasn’t sure, but we convinced her, with help from the two other shelter volunteers, Tim and Caley. And now lonely dogs had a place to play and the Roxbury Park Dog Shelter had a way to stay in business.
“Look, your friends are here,” I told Gus, who was already heading toward the dog park. When we first started the club we’d arrived at the shelter with all the club dogs together and it was total mayhem. Now we each went to pick up our assigned dogs and then met up at the dog run. We’d let the dogs play for a few minutes so that when we arrived at the shelter they were a lot calmer. The whole thing was Kim’s idea of course, and like all her ideas involving dogs, it was terrific.
“Hey,” Taylor called as Gus and I walked up. She was already there with Humphrey and Popsicle. Humphrey, a sleepy bassett hound, was the very first club dog, and Popsicle had actually been a shelter dog until Humphrey’s owners had adopted her. She was a sweet little black and white puppy, though as we came up I realized she wasn’t quite as small anymore.
“Popsicle’s getting big,” I said as I let Gus greet his friends.
“And more energetic,” Taylor said, rubbing her arm. “She pulled me all the way here.”
The three dogs were sniffing happily when Kim arrived with Coco, a big brown and black dog with floppy ears and a tendency to run whenever she could. It took a firm hand to manage Coco, which was why Kim picked her up.
“Someone’s ready to play,” Kim said as they came over, Coco jumping up happily at the sight of her friends. “Down,” Kim said firmly, and like magic, Coco settled down and began sniffing instead of leaping.
“Amazing,” Taylor said.
We let the dogs play for a few more minutes, then headed to the shelter.
“I wonder if Sierra is here yet,” Kim said as we opened the door to the shelter. But the dogs that raced to greet us were our usual shelter dogs, along with Daisy, a brown dachshund whose owner dropped her off for the club. Lily, a mix with shaggy tan fur, came first, followed by Boxer, who was, of course, a boxer. Right behind them was Hattie, a large fuzzy puppy who used to be shy but had gotten a lot braver lately. Kim had been helping with that. Oscar gave a mew from his perch on the windowsill. Oscar was actually a cat, with bright green eyes and silky gray fur, but he thought he was a dog and no one told him otherwise. All three dogs ran straight to Kim, but one dog, a little white Cavachon who was nearly blind, came right to me.
“Mr. Smashmouth,” I said joyfully, reaching down to scoop him up. He greeted me with a kiss on my cheek, then snuggled in under my chin, a delicious fluffy bundle in my arms.
“He sure loves you,” Taylor said, grinning at me.
“It’s mutual,” I said. I adored all the shelter and club dogs, but Mr. Smashmouth was special.
“Hi, girls,” Alice said, coming out of her little office. Her hair was in its usual messy ponytail and as always she had on a dog shirt. This one said “It’s a Dog Eat Dog World” and had a cartoon of a dog munching on a hot dog.
As we greeted Alice we let the club dogs off their leashes. Popsicle bounded over to Hattie and Daisy while Gus and Coco began a spirited game of chase with Boxer. Humphrey lay down on the floor, in typical lazy bassett fashion, as though the walk here had exhausted him. I knew he’d be up and playing soon.
“Sasha, I think you forgot something,” Kim said gently.
I looked at her blankly.
“Your shelter clothes,” she said.
Yikes! Mr. Smashmouth had rushed up to me so fast I hadn’t had time to change. Lucky for me Cavachons don’t shed much, but I’d have to pick off any stray fur before I went home. I grabbed my backpack and headed for the bathroom next to the food storage area. The dogs always looked up hopefully when any of us went in that direction, but then continued playing if we just went into the bathroom instead of to the food.
Aside from the food storage, bathroom, and Alice’s office, which was tucked in the back, the shelter was one big room, with cages on one side, where the dogs slept, and a wide-open space for playing. Next to the cages were shelves where the toys were kept, though by this time of day half the toys were strewn about the room or out in the big backyard. Back when we’d first started at the shelter most of the toys were pretty chewed up. But thanks to the Dog Club there were brand-new balls, braided ropes for tugging, and lots of chew toys.
I changed into my faded jeans and my favorite T-shirt ever—the one that said Roxbury Park Dog Club. Alice had made them for us when we first started the club and we all tried to wear them to the shelter. I folded my school clothes, tucked them into my backpack, and then went back out, almost tripping over Mr. Smashmouth, who was waiting for me.
“You are the sweetest,” I told him, bending down to scoop him up again. He snuggled in my arms with a contented sigh as I walked to put my backpack in Alice’s office, as far away from dog fur as possible.
When I came back out Kim and Taylor were throwing tennis balls and all the dogs except Mr. Smashmouth were chasing after them. The front door opened and in walked Caley and Tim.
“Hey,” Tim said, his shaggy black hair falling in his face as he bent down to greet Boxer and Lily, who broke away from fetch to greet him.
“Afternoon, all,” Caley said, smiling at us. “I’m glad it’s a club day. Things are slow when you guys aren’t around.”
Caley, with her red curls, cool thrift-shop clothes, and confident manner, was exactly how I hoped I’d be in high school. Well, with my own boring brown hair and new clothes because my mom would never let me wear used clothes. But I loved how self-possessed and friendly Caley was. Plus you could just tell she never forgot things like lasagnas that had to be taken out of the freezer. At first I’d been kind of intimidated hanging out with her and Tim, since they were high school students and all. But they’d been so supportive of the Dog Club idea, and so helpful, that now it just felt normal.
“I wish every day was Dog Club day,” Kim said with a sigh. I could tell she was thinking of those three afternoons a week when she was doing homework instead of playing here with the dogs.
; “Dog Club days are the best,” Tim agreed as Coco raced over and nearly knocked him down. “Way more exciting than regular days,” he added with a laugh.
“If you want excitement I think we’re going to get it,” Alice said in her gentle way. “Sierra will be a handful.”
I felt a tiny twinge of worry at her words. Alice was amazing with all the dogs—in fact she was a lot like Kim. So to hear her say Sierra would be a challenge felt different than when Taylor said it. But I shook it off. Yes, Sierra was energetic. But we were more than ready to handle it.
“We’re on it,” Caley said as she tossed the now-soggy tennis ball for Boxer and Lily. “And Sierra’s going to have a great time.”
“How about we start off with some time out back,” Kim said, already planning how to best handle things. “That way if she’s a little wild she can run it off outside, maybe with Boxer and Lily.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Tim agreed.
“Taylor, you should get your camera ready,” Kim went on. “So we can have some pictures of Sierra’s arrival for the blog.” While my club job was the client list and scheduling, Kim and Taylor did the Dog Club Diary, a blog about what happened in Dog Club so that owners would know what their dogs were up to. Kim wrote short posts and Taylor was the webmaster, as well as the official photographer.
“Right,” Taylor said, heading over to her backpack to get her camera. She was pretty into photography and always had it with her.
“Do you think we should take a few of the dogs out now, so not all of them are here when Sierra arrives?” Caley asked Kim.
I loved that even the high school students wanted Kim’s advice on dogs.
Kim was nodding. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
“I think it might be too late,” Alice said, cocking her head to one side as though she heard something.
And a moment later I heard it too: the sound of a dog’s nails scratching wildly as she raced up the front steps. Which could only mean—
“Sierra’s here!” I said, eager to welcome our newest club member.
Taylor grabbed her camera and I headed for the door, ready to greet Sierra. But the moment I opened it, Sierra leaped up, her paws nearly hitting Mr. Smashmouth, still cuddled under my chin. He let out a surprised bark and Sierra tore past me, running wildly around the shelter. She was a big German shepherd mix, so the other dogs, even Boxer and Coco, jumped out of the way as she tore past, ears flying and paws thumping around the room.
“Sierra,” Mr. Finnegan called, hurrying in after his dog. His neat gray suit had several muddy dog prints on it and there was a leaf stuck in his hair. Clearly the walk here hadn’t gone well.
“Sierra, sit,” Kim called in her most serious voice.
We all waited, knowing what would happen: Sierra would slow, Kim would repeat the command, and then Sierra would obey. That was what always happened when Kim used her most serious voice.
But this time it didn’t. This time Sierra just kept racing around the room, sending Hattie skittering for the safety of her cage. Gus, Popsicle, and Humphrey cowered in a corner, while Boxer and Coco revved up in hot pursuit.
Uh-oh.
Taylor, Kim, and I exchanged a panicked glance.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Finnegan said, rubbing his forehead. “We’re not quite sure why she’s still so wild. We expected it when she was a puppy but she’s nearly two.”
Sierra skidded along the linoleum floor and crashed into the toy shelves. All of us gasped but she barely missed a beat, just took off across the room again.
“Should we see if she’s hurt?” Caley asked.
Sierra streaked past.
“I think she’s fine,” Alice said. “But perhaps we should do as Kim suggested and take her outside.”
“Good idea,” Mr. Finnegan said. “Though don’t expect that to tire her. She can run for hours and still be going strong.”
Kim was biting her lip and even Alice was frowning a bit. That definitely didn’t sound good.
“All right, dog pack, let’s go,” Tim, who was closest to the back door, said heartily. The second he opened the door, Sierra thundered toward it. Taylor was half hiding behind Kim as the huge dog flew past, followed by Coco and Boxer, who was more amped up than I’d ever seen him. Lily followed more slowly but none of the other dogs budged. Clearly if Sierra was going outside, they were staying in.
I glanced toward the windowsill and wasn’t surprised to see that Oscar’s red cat bed was empty. Chances were he was hiding under the sofa in Alice’s office, his go-to space when the dogs got too wild. I was guessing we wouldn’t see even the tip of his gray tail until Sierra was headed back home.
“Who’s coming with me?” Tim asked. His voice was steady but he was cracking his knuckles, something I’d never seen him do before.
Sierra really had all of us on edge.
“I’ll go,” I announced. The sooner I got comfortable with Sierra the better. I knew she had to be a sweetie under all that exuberance—pretty much all dogs were.
“Me too,” Kim said.
We both glanced at Taylor. Sometimes we did our own thing at the shelter but in general when one of us went outside to run around with the dogs, the other two followed.
Taylor was looking like she had just seen a werewolf, not a slightly out-of-control German shepherd. I knew her answer before she even opened her mouth. “I think I’ll stay behind and help calm the other dogs down,” she said, twisting a braid around one finger.
I nodded. On the one hand I hated for her to be scared of Sierra—she’d made so much progress overcoming her fear of big dogs. But until Sierra settled in a bit, it probably made sense for Taylor to focus on the other dogs. And considering Hattie was hidden under her dog bed in her cage, Gus, Humphrey, Daisy, and Popsicle were still huddled in the corner, and Mr. Smashmouth was whimpering a bit, there was plenty to do right here.
I kissed Mr. Smashmouth on his soft head, then handed him over to Taylor. She hugged him close and I could tell it soothed her to have him in her arms. He was great like that. I gave him one last pat, then headed out back with Kim.
The backyard was a pretty perfect dog play area. It was big, with a couple of bushes and one big oak tree to run around. There was a wooden fence along the edge of the property to keep the dogs safe and lots of room for fetch, chase, or a spirited game of tug-of-war.
The air was cool on my face as we walked outside and I breathed in the crisp fall scent. The leaves on the big oak were changing and a few crimson and yellow ones were already on the ground. Soon there would be enough to rake into a pile, which would be fun: the dogs would love jumping on them.
I expected the dogs to be running around but the yard was still, which seemed like a good thing until I realized what they were doing: digging a hole near the fence at the back of the property. Sierra’s paws churned out dirt furiously. Boxer was next to her, Lily and Coco on the other side. They were digging a bit too, though nowhere near as vigorously as Sierra. Tim was heading over and Kim and I joined him.
“Sierra, no,” Tim said.
At the sound of his voice Coco, Lily, and Boxer stopped, but Sierra carried on like she hadn’t heard a thing.
“Boxer, Coco, Lily come,” I called, figuring that getting the other dogs away would help. I looked around for the nearest toy and was pleased to see Boxer’s favorite a few feet away under the oak tree. It was a bent, chomped-up green Frisbee that was actually kind of gross. But Boxer adored it, so we’d never consider getting rid of it. I grabbed it and tossed it toward the far corner of the yard, away from the hole. And sure enough, as soon as Boxer saw it take off, he rushed after it, Coco and Lily on his heels.
Okay, one problem down, one more to go. Because Sierra was still digging and if she didn’t stop soon, she was going to dig her way out of the yard. And Sierra running loose around Roxbury Park would be bad, really bad.
“Let’s distract her,” Kim said, walking over to a pile of toys in a bin on the porch. She grabbed a bright red
rubber ball and I picked up a twisty blue rubber tug toy.
“She has to go for one of these,” I said.
We marched over to Sierra and both called her name. The big dog glanced back, then hesitated when she saw what we had in our hands. Kim threw the ball as hard as she could and it bounced off the back porch, then zipped across the yard. Sierra paused, then sprinted after it.
“Well done,” Tim said, sounding relieved. “I think we were looking at a jailbreak if we didn’t get her to stop soon.” Tim sometimes talked in the language of video games, something Kim understood better than I did since she had an older brother. But in this case we were all on the same page: no one wanted to see Sierra escape.
“Let’s fill in that hole while we can,” I said.
“I’ll grab a shovel,” Tim said. “I think there’s one in the garage. I’ll be back in a minute.” Then he turned. “Are you guys okay alone? I mean, I know you’re great with dogs, but Alice wasn’t kidding: Sierra really is a handful.”
Tim had never asked anything like that before. But then again, we’d never dealt with a dog like Sierra before. It was nice he was concerned but I knew we were good. “We’re fine, thanks,” I said.
Tim headed to the side gate while Kim and I walked toward Sierra, who was jogging around with the ball in her mouth. When she saw us coming, she ran over, dropped the ball at Kim’s feet, then leaped up putting her front paws on Kim’s shoulders, nearly toppling her over.
I reached out and grabbed Kim’s arm to brace her.
“Sierra, down,” Kim said, calmly and very firmly.
Sierra responded by giving her a kiss on the nose. Which was actually pretty cute, but still, bad dog manners could not be tolerated. And jumping up on someone’s shoulders was pretty bad.
“Sierra, down,” Kim repeated, even more firmly.
“Should I just take her off you?” I asked.
“No,” Kim said, her eyes on Sierra. She was clearly in the dog whisperer zone. “She needs to learn to listen.”