by Daphne Maple
Dedication
For Erica
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Excerpt from Roxbury Park Dog Club #4: All Paws on Deck
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About the Author
Books by Daphne Maple
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
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 toward 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.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked as we headed down the hall. Kim was our other best friend, and sometimes she struggled with school. She was one of the smartest people I knew, and a total genius with dogs, but school stuff like homework and tests took her extra long and made her really anxious. Her parents tried to help and so did her older brother, Matt, but sometimes their help turned into added pressure.
“Yeah, I think she just wanted to double-check exactly what to study,” Sasha said. Her steps were light and graceful as we walked; you could tell she was a dancer just by looking at her.
“That’s smart,” I said as we rounded the corner and found Kim stacking books into her backpack.
“You need them all?” Sasha asked playfully.
Kim smiled, but her green eyes were serious. “Last night I forgot my science book, so I’m not taking any chances today,” she said, zipping up her bag and then nearly falling over when she picked it up. “Okay, maybe I can leave a couple of things here,” she said, opening it back up and putting two books in her locker. “Are we running late?”
Since school was officially over, I figured it was okay to get out my cell phone. “We’re okay,” I said after I looked at it. “We don’t have to be at the shelter for another twenty minutes.”
“That’s plenty of time for our pickups,” Sasha said as we walked out of the building into the sunny day. The air smelled crisp, like falling leaves and freshly mowed grass.
“I’m getting Humphrey and Popsicle, right?” Kim confirmed.
Sasha, who was in charge of our Dog Club scheduling, as well as managing our client list and handling calls from new customers, nodded. “Yes, and Taylor’s getting Gus, and I’m picking up Coco and Mr. S.” She was beaming as she said the last name, and who could blame her? Mr. Smashmouth had been one of the dogs at the Roxbury Park Shelter where Sasha, Kim, and I were doing our year-long volunteer assignments, a requirement of seventh grade. We loved the shelter and all the dogs there, but Sasha had made a special connection to Mr. S, a fluffy white Cavachon who was nearly blind—not that you’d know it from the way he played fetch and could sniff out a dog treat from a mile away! We were all thrilled when Sasha’s mom, who is a total neat freak, finally gave in and made Sasha’s dream come true by adopting Mr. S. And of course he still came to Dog Club every week, to play with all his buddies at the shelter.
“See you guys in five,” Kim said. We’d reached the corner of Market Street and were separating to pick up our dogs. Kim headed down Market, Sasha turned on Grove, and I went the opposite way, toward Gus’s house.
Walking the dogs to club meetings was one of the services we’d come up with after Kim had the amazing idea to start the club in the first place. The shelter was having money problems, and Kim’s neighbors, the Cronins, couldn’t find an affordable dog walker for their sweet basset hound, Humphrey, who needed an afternoon walk when they were at work. Two very different problems, but Kim came up with a single solution to both: the Roxbury Park Dog Club. Owners could drop their dogs off for two hours of fun and exercise at the shelter, or for an extra fee we’d pick up the dogs and walk them over ourselves. The dogs got to play, the shelter got the money it needed, and we got to hang out with dogs two days a week. It was a total win for everyone!
I slipped the key into the lock at Gus’s house and heard him pad into the entry hall, panting happily.
“Hi there, sweet pea,” I cooed, rubbing his soft head once I was in. Gus was a chocolate brown Lab with a face that looked like he was always smiling. I snapped his leash onto his collar and headed out.
There was a slight wind that rustled through my braids as we walked. I’d just gotten them done last
weekend, with gold and silver beads at the ends. Good thing I hadn’t gotten pink since I only had my hair done every few months.
Gus pranced happily at my side, clearly pleased to be out. There was a time when we picked up our dogs and then met at the town dog park so the dogs could play a bit before going to the shelter. It made for a calmer start to the afternoon, especially when we’d had Sierra, a big German shepherd mix who was super high energy. Unfortunately nothing we did helped her settle down enough to play well with the other dogs and we’d finally realized that she wasn’t a good fit for our club. Her owners had been understanding, and the whole thing taught us a lot about what kinds of dogs we could handle.
The club had had other growing pains too, like when we took care of a well-groomed poodle named Clarabelle, whose owner did not want her pristine coat getting a spot of dirt on it. Of course we found this out on a wet day when the dogs were out playing in the mud, and Clarabelle’s owner was not pleased. That was when we came up with our blog. We posted about what the dogs did every day so potential clients would know exactly what they were signing up for. Kim wrote each post and I provided the pictures. Photography was my thing, the way Sasha had dance and Kim was the dog whisperer.
As we headed down Main Street, passing the Rox, the diner Kim’s family owned, Bundt Cake Bakery, and Nimsey’s Crafts, Gus picked up his pace. We were getting close to the shelter and he knew it. Now that the dogs were used to the shelter routine, we didn’t have to stop by the dog park. We just went straight to the shelter, unless we were bringing a new dog for the first time.
A moment later we were walking into the shelter, which smelled of clean fur and pine floor wax, Gus dancing in excitement as I unsnapped his leash so he could go run with his friends. Kim, Humphrey, and Popsicle had already arrived, and Tim, one of the two high school students who volunteered at the shelter, waved when he saw me.
“How’s it going, Taylor?” Caley, the other high school volunteer, asked, brushing her red hair out of her face. She was into drama and sometimes practiced her lines on the dogs, who seemed to especially like Shakespeare.
“Good, thanks,” I said, heading to Alice’s office to set down my school stuff so I could start to play with the dogs.
Alice, who ran the shelter, was a relaxed, easygoing boss. When I walked in I realized I was interrupting a meeting, but Alice just smiled at me. “Taylor, these are the Wongs,” she said, gesturing to the young couple sitting on the sofa across from her desk. “They’re interested in adopting a dog.”
“Terrific,” I said. “You’ll have a hard time choosing though—they’re all awesome.”
Ms. Wong smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “We’re excited to meet them.”
Alice stood up and I saw she was wearing a T-shirt printed with the words “All you need is love . . . and a dog.” “Taylor can take you out to meet everyone,” she said. Just then Oscar, a fluffy gray cat, came in and hopped up onto Alice’s desk. She gave his head an affectionate rub.
“If you want a cat who thinks he’s a dog, Oscar is your guy,” I said, and the Wongs laughed. I led them into the main room, a big open space strewn with dog toys. One side of the room had cozy cages where the dogs slept and went if they needed a little alone time. The other wall had the bathroom and food room, as well as shelves for toys and supplies. Out back was a large fenced-in yard where we often played with the dogs.
“First meet Boxer and Lily,” I said, taking the Wongs over to Tim, who was playing fetch with the two dogs.
Lily, a tan mutt, had the red rubber ball in her mouth, and Boxer, who was of course a boxer, was running after her. Lily happily deposited the soggy ball at Tim’s feet and he held it out to Mr. Wong. “Want to give it a try?” he asked.
Mr. Wong was wearing a fancy-looking suit but he gamely took the ball and threw it for Boxer and Lily, who flew after it.
Kim was tossing a tennis ball for Hattie and Popsicle, so I took the Wongs over to her next. “This is Hattie,” I said, resting a hand on the puppy’s back. She was a sheepdog who used to suffer from shyness but lately had been coming out of her shell, mostly thanks to Kim and her magical way with dogs. “And this is Popsicle.” I gestured to the black and white puppy. “She’s a former shelter dog, here for the Dog Club, so she’s not available for adoption.”
“This girl is though,” Kim said as Gracie, a cream-colored mutt, came over to play. She had just arrived at the shelter a few weeks ago and was still getting used to things. Sure enough, she shied away from the Wongs, since they were strangers, but Hattie went up to say hi, cautiously smelling Ms. Wong’s hand when she held it out and then giving her a lick. Ms. Wong seemed to melt before my eyes as she gazed down at Hattie. Cute dogs will do that to you!
Just then the door opened and Mr. S and Coco, a big black and brown dog, burst through the door, followed by a pink-cheeked Sasha.
“More club dogs,” I said to the Wongs, but they were so busy petting Hattie that they barely heard.
Coco rushed to greet Boxer and Lily while Mr. S bounded over to Humphrey. The Cronins had adopted Popsicle after she and Humphrey bonded. Humphrey, who had been napping in the corner, got to his feet to greet his friend. They touched noses and I pulled out my camera to capture the sweet exchange. Then I looked around the shelter and snapped a few more pics: Caley on the floor rubbing Gus’s tummy, Kim snuggling with Gracie and Popsicle, Sasha squealing as Lily ran up and give her a big kiss, Tim playing tug-of-war with Boxer and Lily. I loved being behind the camera lens, catching and saving these moments forever.
Mr. S came up and pressed his warm little body against my leg to say hi. I put my camera down so I could pick him up. I liked taking pictures but I liked cuddling with the dogs too! That hadn’t always been true though. I’d signed up to do my volunteer assignment at the dog shelter because I wanted to be with Sasha. We’d spent our vacation together before my family moved to Roxbury Park and she was the only person I knew in town. Plus we’d hit it off right away, so hanging out with her every day after school sounded great to me. Kim wasn’t that happy to have me moving in on her best friend of seven years though, and I wasn’t that happy at the shelter—the big dogs made me nervous. But Kim figured that out pretty fast, and being the awesome person and amazing dog whisperer she is, she helped me out. In no time at all I was loving my time with the big dogs, and Kim and I were on the fast track to becoming best friends too.
“Who’s a sweetie pie?” I asked Mr. S, picking him up and tucking him under my chin. He rewarded me with a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, you,” I told him, laughing. “Your dog is the best,” I told Sasha, who was walking over, a green Frisbee in hand.
“I know,” Sasha said, beaming at the little dog, who began to wriggle in delight when he heard his new owner. “I’m lucky.”
I set Mr. S down so he could play. “He’s pretty lucky too,” I said as Sasha sent the Frisbee whizzing across the room. Mr. S, Lily, and Boxer sprinted after it.
“Want to take these guys outside?” Tim asked, coming over. His black hair was sticking out all over the place after his fun with Boxer and Lily.
“Sounds good,” I said, and Sasha nodded. The three of us and Kim headed out back, Lily, Boxer, Popsicle, Mr. S, Coco, and Gus following.
“I’ll stay here,” Caley said, walking over to the Wongs, who were still playing fetch with Hattie. Humphrey was back to dozing in his corner, but Gracie had joined Hattie and the two of them were running after the bone-shaped toy Mr. Wong was throwing for them.
The dogs flew down the steps of the back porch and out into the grassy yard, which had worn patches from past dog playtimes. Tim charged after them and began a spirited game of fetch with Lily. Boxer frisked at Sasha’s feet until she tossed the Frisbee. He took off after it, followed by Mr. S and Coco.
Kim looked at me. “Dog tag with Popsicle and Gus?” she asked. Dog tag was a game we’d invented. It started with one of us throwing a ball to the dogs and then running. The dogs would chase us with the b
all, and whoever they caught first was “it” and had to throw the ball next.
“You’re on,” I told her, scooping up a tennis ball from the toy box on the porch and heaving it across the yard. It bounced off the big oak tree, and Popsicle and Gus raced after it. Kim and I ran in opposite directions. Popsicle got to the ball first, picked it up in her mouth, and ran to me. I dashed to Kim, who ran for the far fence, laughing. Soon we were all breathless, people and dogs alike, and all having a pretty great time.
It seemed like only five minutes had passed when Caley appeared at the door and waved us in. “Owners are starting to arrive,” she called.
We trooped up the steps. My pink T-shirt was now sweaty but my whole body felt loose and energized, the best feeling ever after sitting all day in school.
“We should create a Dog Club workout,” Sasha said, following me up the steps. “People would get into great shape and the dogs would get all the exercise they need.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Kim said. Her face was happy and relaxed the way it always was around the dogs.
Gus squeezed in front of me and ran to greet his owner, Mrs. Washington. She was wearing a pencil skirt and fitted blazer but still managed to get down and give him a big hug. “I missed you too,” she said as he gave her a sloppy kiss on the side of her face.
I reached for my camera and snapped the photo, then turned and got another one of Mr. Cronin bending down to greet Humphrey, who had finally gotten up from his nap, and Popsicle. He was beaming down at his dogs while both looked up at him, their eyes filled with love. It was the perfect shot.
Soon all the club dogs except for Mr. S had been picked up. We gave final hugs to the shelter dogs, waved to Alice, Tim, and Caley, and left, Mr. S snuggled in Sasha’s arms.
“Are you going to carry him all the way?” Kim asked, her eyes twinkling.
“I might,” Sasha said, planting a loud kiss on the top of his fuzzy head.
A cool breeze blew as we started walking. Kim and Sasha lived down the street from each other, while my house was just a few blocks away.