Broadway Doggie

by Nancy Krulik

  “An animal shelter,” a little bouncy Chihuahua says. “A place where four-legs that don’t have two-legs live.”

  “You mean like a pound?” I ask nervously.

  “I don’t know what a pound is,” the mixed breed admits. She gives me a smile. “Relax, puppy. It’s not so scary here. Most of the dogs that come through are really nice. And they keep the cats in a different room.”

  “We’re all here waiting for the same thing—a two-leg to fall in love with us and take us to a fur-ever home,” a sad-eyed basset hound adds.

  “But I already have a fur-ever home,” I tell them. “With Josh.”

  “Not anymore,” the Chihuahua says. “This is your home—at least for now. But don’t worry. It’s nice and warm here. And you get food. This place has everything a dog needs.”

  That’s not true. I need Josh.

  My tail droops. So do my ears. They are very sad to be in the shelter.

  “I want to go home!” I cry out.

  “Quiet down,” the mixed breed says gently. “Two-legs don’t like dogs that bark too loudly.”

  That’s not true, either. Josh likes when I bark at the door when he gets home.

  Maybe Josh is different than other two-legs. Maybe other two-legs don’t like barking the way Josh does.

  That could be. Because there is only one Josh. And I want to go home and be with him.

  Suddenly the Chihuahua starts bouncing up and down. “Someone’s coming! Someone’s coming!” he yips excitedly.

  The door opens. A group of two-legs walks into the room.

  “Pick me! Pick me!” the Chihuahua yips as he bounces.

  “I’m a good dog,” the mixed breed barks. “You’d like me—even if my fur sheds on your carpet.”

  “I need a buddy,” the basset hound howls. “You want to be my buddy?”

  I don’t say anything. I do not want to go home with any of these two-legs. I want to go to my home.

  One of the two-legs walks to the middle of the room. He turns his paw over and lifts it up.

  The Chihuahua keeps bouncing up and down.

  The mixed breed lies down.

  The basset hound just stands there.

  But I sit.

  I can’t help it. That’s what I do every time a two-leg raises his paw like that.

  Now the two-leg lowers his paw to the ground.

  I lie down. Whenever I see a two-leg put his paw on the ground, I have to lie down. That’s what I learned to do when I was in school.

  The two-leg lifts his paw and twirls it around in a circle.

  So I jump up onto my hind legs and twirl in a circle.

  The other dogs stare at me.

  “What’s he doing?” the basset hound asks.

  “Show-off,” the Chihuahua yips.

  “Speak!” the two-leg orders.

  “I’m not showing off,” I tell the Chihuahua. “I can’t help it. He’s doing paw signals.”

  The two-leg gives me a big smile. He thinks I was barking because he said speak. But I was just talking to the other dogs.

  Another two-leg comes over. He points to my collar.

  The two-leg bends down to look at the little metal thing hanging from my collar. He flips it over.

  He is looking for something. But I don’t know what.

  The next thing I know, the two-leg snaps a leash onto my collar. He hands the leash to the two-leg who knows paw signals.

  The two-leg with the leash starts to lead me out of the room.

  “Wow. I have to learn some of those paw signals,” the basset hound howls.

  “He got a two-leg on his very first day,” the mixed breed says. “Amazing.”

  “Lucky guy,” the Chihuahua yips.

  I shake my head. I don’t feel lucky. I just feel scared. And lonely.

  And very, very sad.

  CHAPTER 9

  “I will not eat the treat,” I tell myself. “I will not eat the treat.”

  A two-leg is holding a treat in front of my snout. But I don’t eat it. I am too sad to eat anything.

  Sniffety, sniff, sniff. The treat does smell yummy, though. Like peanut butter.

  Peanut-butter treats are my favorite. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try just one.

  Chew, chew, chew.

  The treat is really yummy. But it doesn’t make me feel any happier. I do not like being in this place.

  The floor is made of hard wood. Bright lights are shining in my eyes. I can barely see. But I can tell that there are a lot of chairs. They look comfy and cozy.

  But the two-legs are not sitting in the chairs. They are standing up here on the hard wood floor. I don’t know why we all don’t curl up in those comfy-cozy chairs.

  The two-leg who took me out of the shelter walks over. He raises his hand up.

  “Sit,” he says.

  My bottom flops down. I don’t have to tell my bottom to sit. It just does.

  The two-leg holds out his paw.

  “Shake,” he says.

  My paw lifts itself off the ground. The two-leg shakes my paw up and down.

  Then the two-leg puts his paw on the ground.

  “Lie down,” he says.

  My legs bend. My belly touches the floor.

  The two-leg pulls his hand back.

  “Stand up,” he says.

  My legs straighten. I stand up.

  The two-leg twirls his paw around and around.

  “Twirl,” he says.

  I jump up onto my hind legs. I twirl in a circle. Twirl. Twirl. Twirl. I can’t help myself.

  “Good dog,” the two-leg says. He gives me a peanut-butter treat.

  Then he starts the whole thing all over again.

  Sit. Shake. Lie down. Stand up. Twirl.

  Sit. Shake. Lie down. Stand up. Twirl.

  Now all the two-legs in this big room are smiling.

  They hit their paws together.

  They say, “Good dog.”

  I don’t know why they think it is such a big deal. I understand a lot of two-leg words. What I don’t understand is why two-legs never want to learn any dog words.

  The two-leg who took me out of the shelter holds his hand up. Here we go again.

  Sit. Shake. Lie down. Stand up. Twirl.

  I am getting very tired of doing tricks. I want to go back to the park and dig up my magic bone. One chomp, and it will kaboom me right home.

  But I can’t dig up my bone if I’m stuck here.

  There’s only one thing to do. I am going to have to make a run for it!

  I leap from the edge of the hard, wooden floor. I land right near the chairs below. Then I take off.

  I can hear the two-legs yelling at me. I know they want me to stop. But I can’t.

  I don’t have time to do any more tricks for them. I have to get home.

  So I keep running. Fast. Faster. Fastest.

  Wiggle, waggle, whee! Those two-legs won’t catch me!

  CHAPTER 10

  “Have you ever seen talent like this?”

  That’s the first thing I hear when I get outside. It’s definitely a dog talking.

  I stop running and turn around. That’s when I see Barney. He’s sitting. And rolling over. And twirling on his hind legs.

  “Come on, don’t leave me waiting in the wings,” he calls to a two-leg passing by. “Put me center stage!”

  Barney sure is talking funny. What wings? Dogs don’t have wings. Pigeons have wings. And that weird two-leg in the water bowl in the park.

  “Barney!” I bark excitedly. “There you are.”

  My pal stops twirling. He looks over at me. Then he looks up at the building I just came out of.

  “Were you in there?” he asks me.

  I nod. “It was awf
ul,” I tell him. “Really bright lights. A hardwood floor and—”

  “Some friend you are,” Barney interrupts me. He sounds angry.

  That’s weird. Why would Barney be angry? He wasn’t the one with the lights in his eyes. He wasn’t the one who had to do the same tricks over and over. He wasn’t the one who was in the scary shelter.

  “Why are you mad at me?” I yell. “I should be mad at you. When that two-leg captured me, you didn’t help. You just ran away!”

  “I didn’t just run away,” Barney says. “I turned around, and you were gone. I looked all over the place for you. I asked all the dogs in the neighborhood. None of them saw you. I was really worried.”

  “Oh,” I say. Now I feel bad for yelling at him. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Besides, if I’d known that two-leg was going to put you in a Broadway show, I would have jumped into his arms!” Barney barks. “I’d have been glad to have him take me over you.”

  “He didn’t put me in a show,” I tell him. “He put me in a shelter. Then another two-leg took me to this place.”

  “This place is a real Broadway theater!” Barney shouts at me. “They are casting a brand-new show. You’re gonna be a star, Sparky.”

  Oh no I’m not. I don’t want to be a star. I just want to go home and be a puppy. Josh’s puppy.

  “That wasn’t a show,” I tell him. “You said there would be hundreds of two-legs watching when you act in a show. But there were only a few in there.”

  “That’s just because that was a rehearsal,” Barney says.

  “A what?” I ask him.

  “A rehearsal,” he repeats. “When actors practice their parts over and over until they know them. You have to learn your part before you can do a show.”

  “He did make me do the same tricks again and again,” I say. “Sit. Shake. Lie down. Stand up. Twirl.”

  “Easy stuff,” Barney huffs.

  “Well, I’m not going to do any more tricks for them,” I tell Barney. “I’m out of here.”

  “You can’t just walk out on a Broadway show,” Barney tells me. “Haven’t you heard ‘the show must go on’?”

  “The show will have to go on without me,” I tell him.

  I start to leave. Then I see a group of two-legs running out of the theater. One of them is the two-leg who made me do all those tricks.

  Suddenly, I thinkety, think of a great idea!

  “Now’s your chance, Barney,” I say. “Show them what you can do.”

  I run and hide behind a round metal can. I don’t think the two-leg who made me do tricks can see me here. But I can see him through the holes in the can.

  I can see Barney, too. He’s doing tricks. Lots of them.

  Sit. Shake. Lie down. Stand up. Twirl.

  Barney adds a special kick with his back paw. It makes his twirl look fancy.

  The two-legs all stare at Barney. So Barney does the tricks all over again.

  The two-legs hit their paws together. They smile.

  The two-leg who made me do all those tricks holds out his paw. Barney sniffs it and takes a treat.

  Then he starts to follow the two-legs into the theater.

  Suddenly, he stops. He looks around. And then he barks.

  “Thanks, Sparky!” he says. “I passed the audition. Look out, Broadway. Here I come!”

  Wiggle, waggle, yippee! Finally Barney’s dream is coming true. He is going to be a star!

  Now it’s my turn to get what I want.

  Look out, Josh. Here I come!

  CHAPTER 11

  I look around. I do not see the park with the big water bowl anywhere. It must be very far away.

  I am tired. All that sitting, shaking, and twirling has really worn me out.

  But I am not going to let that stop me.

  I stand on the side of the street. I wait for one of the funny quiet metal machines with round paws to come by. Then I jump inside, just like Barney showed me.

  I hide under the blanket as the metal machine moves through the streets of New York. The two-leg in front does not know I am here. Neither do the Ferocious Flyers.

  Every now and then I poke my head out of the blanket to look around.

  All I see are buildings. And two-legs. And lots and lots of metal machines.

  Uh-oh. What if this one doesn’t know where the park is? What if I can’t find my way back to my bone?

  Sniffety, sniff, sniff.

  Suddenly I smell something meaty—like a hot dog in a bun.

  I sneak another peek out from under the blanket. Now I see lots and lots of trees.

  I’ve only seen that many trees in one place in New York City. The park!

  I wait for the metal machine to stop. Then I leap out from under the blanket.

  I zoomity, zoom, zoom across the snow-covered grass.

  Finally, I reach the big water bowl near where I buried my bone. And then I start to dig.

  Plink.

  Plunk.

  Hee, hee, hee.

  I stop digging. I look up. There are two squirrels in a tree. They’re laughing at me.

  Plink.

  Plunk.

  And dropping hard things on my head.

  I could chase those squirrels. I could show them who’s boss.

  But I won’t. Because I want to get home.

  So I start to dig again. Snow and dirt fly everywhere. And then . . .

  There it is.

  My magic bone! It’s sitting in the middle of the big hole. Right where I left it.

  Then I see something else lying in the snow. It looks like those big bony statues in the museum. Except this one is little.

  Barney said I shouldn’t take one of the giant bones because they belonged to the museum. But this little chew toy is lying here in the dirt. It doesn’t belong to anyone.

  So I clasp it between my paws. Then I open my mouth to bite down on my yummy magic bone.

  Coo . . . coo . . . coo.

  Uh-oh. The Ferocious Flyers have spotted me.

  I don’t speak pigeon. But I have a feeling the Ferocious Flyers want to peck at my magic bone. I don’t blame them. It smells delicious.

  But I’m not sharing.

  “Good-bye, Ferocious Flyers!” I bark.

  Then I bite down on my magic bone. Chomp.

  Wiggle, waggle, whew. I feel dizzy—like my insides are spinning all around—but my outsides are standing still. Stars are twinkling in front of my eyes—even though it’s daytime! All around me I smell food—fried chicken, salmon, roast beef. But there isn’t any food in sight.

  Kaboom! Kaboom! Kaboom!

  Wiggle, waggle, whoopee! I see my tree! And my fence! And my house!

  I am happy to be back in my yard, but it’s cold out here. I want to go inside.

  I drop my chew toy on the ground. I run over to where I found my bone before. Then I start to diggety, dig, dig. Dirt and snow fly everywhere.

  Wow! That’s a big hole.

  I drop my bone in. Then I pushity, push, push the cold dirt back over my bone.

  Vroom. Vroom. I hear a metal machine. And it’s getting closer. That can only mean one thing.

  JOSH IS HOME!

  I scoop up my new chew toy. Then I zoomity, zoom, zoom into the house through my doggie door. I wait for Josh to open the big door.

  My new chew toy drops out of my mouth. “Hi, Josh!” I bark at the big door. “Come inside!”

  I think Josh might be starting to understand dog. Because the next thing I know, the door opens, and Josh comes inside.

  “Josh!” I bark.

  Josh pets me on the head. Then he looks down at the floor. He spots my new chew toy.

  Josh gives me a funny look. I think he is wondering where the toy came from.

  I wish I c
ould tell him about the giant bones in the museum.

  And about the mean old Ferocious Flyers.

  And about my new friend Barney who is going to be a Broadway star.

  But I can’t. So instead I sit. And shake. And lie down. And stand. And twirl. Then I add a little kick. Just like Barney.

  Josh smiles. He laughs. He hits his paws together.

  I smile back at Josh. My tail wags.

  My tail and I love making Josh happy.

  Barney may be acting in a Broadway show in New York City. But in this house, I’m the star.

  Fun Facts about Sparky’s Adventures in New York City

  New York City

  The city includes five separate boroughs, or areas where people live and work. They are called the Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, and Staten Island. Sparky spent his time in the borough of Manhattan.

  Central Park

  This 843-acre park is one of the most popular places to visit in the world. About forty million people stop by each year. There are many things visitors can do in Central Park, including rowing boats, bird watching, picnicking, and taking a ride on a carousel.

  American Museum of Natural History

  This museum is made up of twenty-seven connected buildings and has forty-five exhibit halls. Throughout the museum are dioramas and other exhibits that show the way animals, plants, and people live. There is also a planetarium. The American Museum of Natural History is home to many dinosaur fossils, including a full-size Tyrannosaurus rex.

  The Rink at Rockefeller Center

  This ice-skating rink opened on Christmas Day in 1936. The rink is open to visitors from November to April every year and is one of the most popular tourist attractions in the city.

  Times Square

  Times Square is located at the intersection of Broadway and Seventh Avenue. It is sometimes called the Crossroads of the World because it is one of the busiest places anywhere. More than three hundred thousand people pass through Times Square every day to visit its restaurants, shops, hotels, and theaters.