When the Going Gets Ruff

by Daphne Maple

  “Mom, thank you!” I exclaimed, throwing an arm around her, Mr. Smashmouth pressed between us. He responded by giving each of us kisses.

  “You guys better get going,” my mom said affectionately. “You don’t want to be late for Dog Club.”

  I walked out into the front hall, where I saw a few additions I’d missed on the way in, like a hook for Mr. Smashmouth’s leash, a dog mat, and a newly installed Dustbuster just inside the door. If my mom was already prepping the cleaning for dog fur and dirt tracked in by little white paws, Mr. Smashmouth really and truly did live with us!

  I’d thought I was walking in to the worst moment of my life—how wrong I’d been!

  I turned and threw my arms around my mom again. “This is the best day ever,” I told her, nearly tearful with joy. “Thank you!”

  When I got to the shelter with Mr. Smashmouth a few minutes later everyone began to cheer. Alice’s face was shining, Caley was beaming, Tim was pumping a fist in the air, and Taylor and Kim raced over to hug me and my dog—how I loved the sound of those words! Even the other dogs sensed the excitement and were bouncing around happily.

  Alice came over and rested a hand on Mr. Smashmouth, who was snug in my arms. “I’m usually both happy and sad when a dog gets adopted from the shelter,” she said. “Because I want the dogs to find homes but I miss having them here. But this is perfect—Mr. Smashmouth has a home and we still get to see him at Dog Club!”

  “Yes, we’d miss you too much if you were gone for good,” Caley said to Mr. Smashmouth. Then she gave me a squeeze. “I’m so thrilled for you, Sash,” she said. “I know how much you love this little guy.”

  “I still kind of can’t believe it,” I said.

  “You finally got your dog,” Kim said, with a grin.

  “And not to say I told you so,” Taylor began, “but clearly Kim and I were totally right.”

  “About what?” I asked, confused.

  “About you being responsible, of course,” Taylor said. “It might have taken your mom a bit, but we saw it all along.”

  Boxer bounded over with his Frisbee and Coco raced to Kim’s feet with a tennis ball. As we settled into a happy afternoon of playing I contemplated what Taylor had said. My mom must have decided I was responsible or she wouldn’t have gotten me the best pet in the world. But what had changed her mind? Sure, I’d gone on a campaign to show her I had changed, but nearly everything I’d done had backfired. So why had my mom decided I was ready for a pet now?

  15

  “Welcome to the Ottoman Empire,” Mr. Martin declared grandly, from the stage in the auditorium. “Your time machine has taken you back to an age of politics, art, and unbridled discovery. Walk around, embrace this amazing culture, and enjoy your visit to the past!”

  “That was a little much,” Dana said. She, Rachel, Emily, and Naomi stood next to us, wearing leotards and draped in scarves they’d borrowed from their moms for their Ottoman dance.

  “Oh, it’s sweet how excited he gets,” Emily said with a smile.

  Naomi rolled her eyes but I kind of agreed with Emily—the whole room was bustling with kids in costume, large art displays, performance areas and, of course, food.

  “I hear Alec and Danny are performing an epic poem,” Taylor said. “That I want to see.”

  “Forget poetry,” Naomi said, rubbing her hands together. “I want to try your candy!”

  We led them over to our display on Turkish delight, passing Sofia and Jade, who were singing Ottoman folk songs, and the puppet show that Carmen, Terrell, and Marlena were performing. Their projects were good but so was ours—I was really proud of how it had turned out. The posters explaining the history of the delight, facts about Ottoman cuisine, and dining customs looked sleek and were packed with cool facts. The candy was perfect, cut into bite-size squares and set on silver trays my mom had gotten out of the attic to make it look extra fancy. Not that our classmates cared so much about that. They were just excited to get candy in school!

  “This is delish,” Rachel said after taking a delicate bite.

  “Hey, candy!” Dennis called to Alec and Danny. The three of them nearly shoved Rachel over as they rushed for the trays.

  “It’s like a pack of wild dogs,” Taylor muttered to me and Kim as the boys dug into the candy.

  “Just one per person,” Kim called, to no avail.

  “Gentlemen, I fear you’ve forgotten your manners,” Mr. Martin said as he came up from behind us. “Though I certainly understand your enthusiasm. Turkish delight is a true delicacy. I’m thrilled to learn more about it.”

  The boy pack headed to the next food booth while Mr. Martin began reading our posters. Taylor was helping Rachel set up the music for their dance in the space next to us but Kim was rooted to the spot, her whole body tense as Mr. Martin looked over our work. I put a hand on her shoulder and we waited together, the sounds of laughter, exotic music, and a few scraps of poetry floating around us.

  Finally Mr. Martin picked up a slice of our Turkish delight and popped it into his mouth. “Delicious,” he proclaimed. “And your posters are top-notch. Your group has earned an A.”

  Kim was beaming and as soon as he’d moved on she let out a squeal. “My parents are going to be so proud!”

  “My mom too,” I said, thinking of how fun it would be to tell her and Mr. Smashmouth about the festival. Knowing I was going home to my beloved dog made the whole day special.

  “And once again I was right,” Taylor said. She’d come back in time to hear our grade. “I said we’d knock his socks off and that’s exactly what we did.”

  “I guess we just need to accept that you’re all-knowing,” Kim said with an easy grin. It was nice to see her so relaxed.

  “You finally get it,” Taylor said.

  And we all laughed at that.

  “Mom, you got butterscotch sauce for the milk shakes, right?” I asked. We were in the kitchen together, preparing a big feast of spaghetti and meatballs that was going to be followed by my mother’s famous chocolate cake, the one she only baked for the most special occasions. Like tonight, when we were celebrating our newest family member, who was sitting on his dog bed in the corner while my mom and I bustled about.

  “Hon, do you really think you girls will want milk shakes after all this food?” my mom asked.

  My face fell but before I could say anything she laughed. “I’m just teasing,” she said. “I know you girls need your milk shakes for sleepovers. I got everything, don’t worry.”

  My mom was seriously the best.

  “You know, you never told me what happened with Sierra,” my mom said as she took the lid off a pot of boiling water and put in the spaghetti.

  “We talked with Alice and the Finnegans and all of us decided Sierra would be better off not being in the Dog Club,” I said. My job was stirring the bubbling tomato sauce, which smelled divine.

  “That sounds like the right choice,” my mom said.

  It had been the right choice. The Finnegans totally agreed and weren’t upset at all. And Dog Club had been much better without Sierra disrupting things. I’d been so worried about not doing a good job when in fact, in this case, the best job was to admit we couldn’t handle Sierra. It had seemed like giving up when really it was actually the responsible thing to do. Which reminded me of the question I’d been meaning to ask my mom.

  “Why did you decide we should adopt Mr. Smashmouth?” I asked. “I mean, why now?”

  My mom was near Mr. Smashmouth’s bed and she paused to rub his ears. It was awesome to see how much she loved him!

  “Well, it was obvious to me that you were ready,” she said, giving Mr. Smashmouth one more pat before standing up. “I saw that you were responsible enough to handle taking care of a pet, and I knew this little guy was the one you wanted.”

  I remembered the day she had come into the shelter and seen me with Mr. Smashmouth. But I still had questions. “I don’t want to disagree or anything,” I said. “But it actually se
ems like everything I’ve done lately just proves how scatterbrained I am. Like the mess with the Turkish delight and losing Sierra.”

  My mom shook her head. “No, it’s the opposite,” she said. “Those were some of the things that showed me how responsible you’d become.”

  “Really?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “Being responsible isn’t just making the right choice and having everything go perfectly. It’s also how you handle the things that go wrong.”

  “I never thought of it like that,” I said.

  “Like with the Turkish delight,” she said. “You guys had an accident that caused a huge mess, but you didn’t try to cover it up. You owned up to what happened and you worked your tail off to help me clean it.”

  I had worked hard—my arms had even been sore the next day.

  “And with Sierra, not only did you work to find a solution to a pretty big problem,” she said, “but as soon as she went missing you did everything possible to make sure she was found. And once she was, you apologized and took responsibility for your mistake. You didn’t try to hide your part in what went wrong and you were willing to take any consequences that came your way.”

  “I guess that’s true,” I said slowly. It was strange to say, but I was starting to see what she meant. And realize, for the very first time, that maybe I wasn’t so scatterbrained after all.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said.

  Just then the doorbell rang and Mr. Smashmouth jumped up with a happy bark, ready to greet our guests.

  “Sounds like your friends are here,” my mom said. “And dinner’s just about ready. Let’s start celebrating!”

  As I headed down the hall, Mr. Smashmouth prancing cheerfully at my heels, I couldn’t help thinking how much I had to celebrate: my friends, my new dog, and my mom truly believing in me.

  Really, what more could a girl ever want?

  Excerpt from Roxbury Park Dog Club #3: Top Dog

  KEEP READING FOR A SNEAK PEEK AT THE NEXT DOG CLUB ADVENTURE!

  Taylor is amazed at how quickly Roxbury Park has started to feel like home, but not everyone is as welcoming as Kim and Sasha. Lately she’s been getting picked on for being the new girl at school. And Taylor isn’t the only one under attack—the Dog Club is facing some serious competition. Is there only room for one top dog in Roxbury Park?

  1

  “See you tomorrow, Taylor,” my friend Rachel said as we passed in the hall after the final bell. People streamed by as I waved to her and then turned in to my locker alcove and began to twirl my lock.

  In some ways I was still getting used to Roxbury Park Middle School. Well, everyone in my class was, really, since it was our first year of middle school. But it was also my first year living in Roxbury Park and it still amazed me how fast it had become home. I’d lived my whole life in Greensboro, North Carolina, and when my dad announced we were moving to Illinois so he could work with an old law school friend at her firm, I cried for days. I was sure my life was over. But fast-forward two months and I had a whole new life that I loved just as much as my old one, maybe even more. Roxbury Park was a pretty, friendly town; I had two fabulous best friends; and I was a proud founding member of the Roxbury Park Dog Club. What more could a girl ask for?

  “Nice shirt,” someone sneered behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Brianna Chen mocking what I thought was just a basic pink T-shirt.

  Okay, so there was one thing I could ask for in my new life: for Brianna Chen to stop bothering me. It had started a few weeks ago: a snippy remark here, a put-down there. I kept thinking she’d get over it and find someone else to bug, but so far no luck. If anything, it was getting worse.

  I sucked in my breath and turned to face her. Brianna was Asian, with long hair, tanned skin, and a perfect fashion sense. Today she was wearing jean capris, a shimmery black shirt, and delicate silver sandals that would have given me blisters after ten minutes.

  “I guess girls still wear pink where you’re from, New Girl?” Brianna asked airily. She made “New Girl” sound like a gross skin disease.

  “Um, yeah,” I said. I never knew how to respond to Brianna’s insults. I mean, how do you defend the color pink when you don’t even know what’s wrong with it in the first place?

  Brianna raised an eyebrow, her upper lip crinkling as though just being near my pink shirt was enough to give her hives. “You might want to get rid of it now that you live here,” Brianna said, smoothing a lock of sleek black hair behind one ear. “Maybe give it to a first grader or something.”

  I didn’t know what to say but it didn’t matter because Brianna had turned on her heel and was marching away, a small smile on her face.

  I looked down at my shirt, which was the cheerful color of bubble gum, and tried to promise myself that I’d still wear it, that I wouldn’t let Brianna’s words ruin it for me. But deep down I knew they already had and that my shirt would be staying home from now on. Which was a drag because I really liked it—my sister Jasmine gave it to me because she said this color looked good with my brown skin and black hair. But I had a lot of other shirts, and it would probably be getting too cold for T-shirts soon anyway.

  “Ready to go?”

  This time the voice behind me made me smile. “Sure am,” I said, shutting my locker and hoisting my backpack over my shoulder. Sasha, my best friend, her brown curls popping out of her ponytail, was grinning at me as she played with a strap on her backpack.

  “Let’s go get Kim,” she said. “She wanted to talk to Mr. Martin about the test tomorrow, so I said we’d meet her at her locker.”

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  About the Author

  DAPHNE MAPLE grew up in a small town in upstate New York in a big house that was always full of dogs. She and her friends would spend long afternoons playing with their dogs in the backyard, and that, along with her work at an animal sanctuary, gave her the idea for Roxbury Park Dog Club. She lives and writes in Washington, DC, with her dogs Sweetie Pie and Trixie, and on sunny afternoons you can usually find them playing Frisbee at the local dog park.

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  Books by Daphne Maple

  Mission Impawsible

  When the Going Gets Ruff

  Credits

  Cover art © 2016 by Annabelle Metayer

  Cover design by Jenna Stempel

  Copyright

  ROXBURY PARK DOG CLUB #2: WHEN THE GOING GETS RUFF. Text by Daphne Maple, copyright © 2016 by HarperCollins Publishers. Illustrations by Annabelle Metayer, copyright © 2016 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015958595

  ISBN 978-0-06-232769-7 (pbk.)

  EPub Edition © April 2016 ISBN 9780062327703

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