by Kristen Otte
Peach notices all the dogs and leaps straight up in the air. Her head reaches the top of the fence. She wants to go to the other side of the fence too. I paw at the fence and bark. A pug-colored dog comes to the fence on the other side. He tries to lick my face through the fence.
“Peach, Zelda,” Nate shouts. Peach stops her leaping. We both turn and face Nate. He stands by the gate. I look at Peach. We bark in unison, and then we sprint to him. He opens the gate in the nick of time. Peach and I dash through to the other side. I see the group of big dogs and run straight for them.
Peach beats me to the dogs. A black dog sprints away, so Peach chases after it. I run to the group of dogs and weave in and out of them, baiting one of them to come after me. The dog that tried to lick me through the fence takes the bait. He chases after me. He is fast, but my short pug legs can turn on a dime. I change direction moments before he catches me. Then we are off again. I head for a tree to maneuver away from the dog, but he is too fast. He catches up to me. I freeze. So does he. We stand with our butts in the air in a standoff.
He has a twinkle in his eyes, and I pounce for him. Even though he is much bigger than me, I can stand my own. We tumble through the grass. I roll back on to my belly and bark, but then Peach comes racing between us with the black dog in tow.
Peach!
I chase after them, and my new friend follows. We run through the entire area, and as we run, more and more dogs join our game of chase. A skinny gray dog joins the fun. She runs with a grace unlike any other dog I have seen. It’s almost like she is flying through the air. She catches Peach in an instant, and Peach collapses in the grass. All the dogs chasing Peach stop. We pant, tired and out of breath.
I jog to Ben and Nate. They have the water bowl, and I stop to get my fill. Peach follows me and takes a few long gulps. Then she collapses on the grass on her side, panting with her tongue hanging out.
“I think they like running with the big dogs,” Ben says.
“No kidding,” Nate replies.
“I can’t believe Zelda can keep up with them.”
What? Of course I can keep up with them.
Ben’s words light a fire inside of me. I might not be as big or as fast as some of the other dogs, but I make up for my lack of speed and size with my pug smarts and stubbornness. I look to the skinny gray dog running around the exterior of the park. If I catch him, everyone will know that I am the top dog.
I go for a jog through the park to scope out the area. An idea pops into my pug brain. I take off for the gray dog. We cross paths in the middle of the field, but he doesn’t pause for me. He darts forward with a few dogs behind him.
Well. That didn’t work.
I watch him run and recognize the pattern of his gallop through the park. I join in the chase, knowing I can’t catch him a dead sprint. When we reach a tree, I stop. Ben and Nate are sitting on a bench a few steps away.
Perfect.
I hide behind the trunk and wait, listening to the noises of the paws trampling through the park. The gray dog is very soft on his paws, barely making a sound, but I know he is coming.
I jump out from behind the tree. The gray dog lets out a yelp and then scatters in the other direction. Ben and Nate laugh. I plop on the ground and let my tongue hang out.
“Did you see that?” Ben asks. Nate nods. “Zelda scared that greyhound.”
“I know,” Nate says.
“Zelda is crazy.”
“No, she’s not crazy. She’s smart.”
True.
“Yep. We should make a cartoon series. We can call it ‘The Legend of Zelda’,” Ben says. Nate laughs.
Ben called me a legend!
“I don’t think we can call it that. Copyright mumbo jumbo.”
“Right.”
“ARRFF! ARRFF!”
Peach barrels toward me with a dog on her tail. I sidestep out of the way as they race past.
“Zelda, Peach, time to go,” shouts Nate.
I stand and walk to them. My tail bounces from one side of my butt to the other. Peach hurries to my side. As we walk out of the dog park together, I don’t acknowledge or bark at the other dogs, but I walk with a strut to my step. All the dogs know the truth. I am the pug legend.
3
The House Sitters
After a few uneventful days, my family begins to act in a strange manner. Hannah and Nate stuff a bag full of clothes and take it to the front door. Ben brings another bag to the door. They are packing for a trip!
I dash to the living room. My toys haven’t moved. Neither has my food. Maybe my family hasn’t packed up my stuff yet? I can’t imagine they would go on a trip without Peach and me.
I sit on my perch on the couch, staring outside and waiting for my chance to run out the door with my family. My family eats dinner and settles into a typical evening together. The bags rest by the front door.
The next morning, Nate and Ben load the car with the bags. I wait by the door until I hear a knock on the door. I bark until Nate opens the door. A familiar face from the neighborhood enters the house. She has a bag in her hand.
“Hi, Becky,” Hannah says. Peach runs to her and licks her hand. I stay back, wary of the stranger.
“Hi, Peach,” Becky says.
“Peach, off,” Hannah says. “You’ll have plenty of time to give Becky kisses over the next week.”
The next week? What?
“Come on, let me show you around the house.”
I follow Hannah and Becky up the steps.
“This is our guest room and your room for the week.” They walk to the bathroom and then back down the stairs.
“What do I need to know about Zelda and Peach?”
“The food is in the cupboard. Give them half a bowl in the morning and evening. Besides that, they tell you when they want to go out by waiting by the back door. Zelda even tells you if she wants to go for a walk. She will sit by the front door.”
Becky chuckles. “Really?” Hannah nods. “Should I walk them everyday?” Becky asks.
“If you can, that would be great. They love walks.” Yes, we do.
“Anything else?”
“Not really. They are pretty good dogs.” Pretty good? How about amazing?
“Ready to go?” Nate asks as he walks into the kitchen. Hannah looks to Becky.
“I’m set,” she says.
“Perfect. Thanks so much, Becky,” Nate says. “We don’t like to kennel them for a week, so this is a big help for us.”
“Call if you need anything,” Hannah says. “The vet number is on the fridge, but you shouldn’t need that.”
“I hope not,” she says.
“Ben, Lucy, say good-bye to Zelda and Peach.”
Lucy runs over to me. She picks me up and squeezes me. I put on my tough pug act and sneeze, but I will miss her. I can’t remember the length of a week, but it sounds too long for my family to be away.
She sets me on the floor. Ben pets my head. Peach gives long kisses to Ben and Lucy. Then my family says one more good-bye and walks out the door.
Through the window from my perch on the couch, I watch the car pull away. I sigh, but it turns into a sneeze. Peach wanders over to me. She paws at me, so I jump on the couch. I don’t feel like playing, but I realize that Peach doesn’t either. She curls up next to me, and we fall asleep, hoping our family returns soon.
I awake to thumps and bangs coming from the kitchen. I leap off the couch and dash toward the action. Becky stands in the kitchen, opening and closing all the cupboard doors and drawers. I run to her and bark to get her to stop making so much noise. She stops and looks at me.
“Hi, Zelda,” she says. “Do you know where they keep your treats?” Treats? She opens another cupboard. “I forgot to ask, and I don’t see them in the closet with your food.” Yep. Because I can get to them there.
I stroll across the kitchen and stare at the cupboard above the sink. Becky meanders on the other side of the kitchen, opening and closing more doors by
the dog food. I bark again. She spins around. I bark and stare above the sink. When is she going to get the hint?
“What Zelda?” she asks. I stare at the cabinet. After I stare for too long, she walks to me and looks at the cabinet above the sink. She opens it and then stares back at me wide-eyed.
“You knew the treats were in here. You were trying to tell me.”
Yes. Duh.
“You are a smart pug.” She grabs the bag of peanut butter goobers, crinkling the bag. The noise causes Peach to race into the kitchen. She body-slams me out of the way and jumps sky high for the treats.
“Woah,” Becky says. “Sit.” We both sit in front of her. She hands each of us a full-size goober treat. I scarf it before she realizes her mistake. I want another. I sit in front of her waiting. I lick my nose in anticipation. Peach jumps in the air in front of me.
“Okay. I’ll give you another.” She bends down and hands us each another full-size treat.
Awesome! I never get full-size goobers!
Becky places the bag of treats back in the cabinet and walks into the living room. I settle into my spot in the couch, and Peach joins me. We fall asleep.
When we wake up, the light is beginning to fade outside. Peach and I go outside in the back until the darkness overwhelms us. Tired, I plop on the couch on the fuzzy blanket. Peach wanders upstairs. A few minutes later, she comes back downstairs. Her eyes are bugging out more than normal. She doesn’t know what to do. Usually she sleeps in bed with Lucy and me, or with Hannah and Nate if the kids are gone. But now everyone is gone. I look at her and turn my head. She leaps on the couch and cuddles with me. I don’t normally cuddle with Peach, but I can tell she is upset. This is the first time the family is away from her. I’ll have to keep her happy for the next week.
The next day, I strategize how to get more treats from Becky. Somehow I have to convince Becky that I am worthy of treats all the time. I need to impress her.
The first part of my plan is to showcase my walking skills. Honestly, my walking skills aren’t great. I get distracted too easily, but for a treat and to impress Becky, I will be the best walking dog on the street.
I wait by the front door so Becky knows it’s walking time. After a few minutes, she notices me.
“Okay. We can go for a walk.”
Perfect.
I run in circles around her, completing my normal pre-walk dance.
“Zelda, stay,” Becky shouts, but I don’t listen. I skip away from her reach. She sighs and picks up Peach’s harness.
“Peach, do you want to go for a walk?”
Peach groans, stretches, and jumps down from the couch. She walks to Becky and doesn’t struggle one bit when Becky slips the harness over her body.
“Good girl,” Becky says. She turns to me. “Okay, Zelda. Your turn.”
I stare at her, debating my next move. If I behave, that will impress her and turn her in my favor for the treats. I should cooperate.
She takes a step in my direction. I wait. She takes one more step and reaches down with the harness in her hand.
I can’t resist.
I dart out from under her hands in the other direction. She chases after me. We run in circles through the living room. My tail bounces from one side to the next. I pause for a second, and she lunges. This time I freeze, and she places the harness around me.
“Finally,” she murmurs. Becky leashes me and opens the front door. Peach and I burst forward down the steps. We lead her through the neighborhood, stopping at our favorite trees and light posts. I don’t bark at any dogs!
When we return to the house, she leads us inside. I go to the kitchen and sit on the floor under the treat cabinet, but she never comes. I guess I need a new plan.
I return to the living room. Peach is cuddled with Becky on the couch. I lie in the dog bed and brainstorm new ideas, but my eyes close, and I fall asleep.
When I awaken, I have the perfect idea. I glance around the room. My nap must have been short. Peach and Becky are still on the couch. I don’t see anything in the room that will work for my plan, so I run upstairs to Lucy’s room. I jump on the bed and grab the fuzzy blanket. I drag the blanket down the steps, careful not to trip or stumble. When the blanket and I arrive downstairs in the living room, I pull the blanket to the middle of the floor. Becky gives me a weird look but does nothing, so I run up the stairs again.
Ben’s room is a mess, but I don’t see anything I can grab with my mouth. I walk to the other side of the bed into the half-open closet door. Jackpot. I bite a little man and take him downstairs. I drop him on the blanket and run back up the stairs without looking at Becky. I hear footsteps behind me, but I scurry into Becky’s room-for-the-week. Her open bag rests on the floor. I push through the bag with my nose and find a few socks. I grab two and turn around.
Becky is staring at me. I dash between her legs and scamper down the stairs. I lie on Lucy’s blanket and start chewing on the sock, waiting for Becky. I can hear her feet on the stairs. Peach opens her eyes and looks at me.
“Zelda,” Becky says. “Give me that.” She takes a few steps closer, attempting to trap me. I dart across the room with her sock in my mouth.
“Zelda, drop it.” I ignore her and sprint across the room to the opening behind the couch.
“Zelda, come.” I sit and wait. She tries a few more times to get me out from behind the couch, but she can’t reach me. She stomps away, and I hear the squeak of cabinet opening in the kitchen.
Yes!
With the crinkle of the treat bag, I hear the thump of Peach landing on the floor and then the click of her nails hitting the floor as she runs to the kitchen. The clicks stop. Peach must be eating a treat. Then the clinks come toward me. Becky appears at the end of the couch.
“Want a treat, Zelda?”
Yes!
“Come, here.” She places a treat on the floor right in front of the couch. I drop the sock, grab the treat, and back up before she can grab me. She groans.
“Zelda.”
She’s going to hate me, but it’s only for a week. Treats are worth it. I can tell she is trying to outsmart me. That is not going to happen. I am the smartest pug around. I am the queen of this house.
Becky keeps the treat in her hand, but she calls for me. I don’t move. After a few minutes of the standoff, she does exactly what I thought she would. Amateur. She places a trail of treats from the start of the couch to the middle of the floor. Her plan is to grab me or the sock when I follow the treat trail. She doesn’t know that I just did this for the treats.
I take the bait and run for the treats, gobbling all seven of them. I expect Becky to snatch me at any moment, but she doesn’t! She takes her sock and goes upstairs. Even better! I’m so happy that I leave two treats for Peach. This is the stuff of pug dreams!
Becky comes back downstairs. I jump on the couch next to her and lie so I’m touching her legs. I’m trying to get back in her good graces. She pets my head, and I know I’ll be okay for the rest of the time my family is away.
Over the next few days, I sucker Becky into giving us a few more treats. I even force her to take me on four walks in one day. Four! Yet even with the four-walk day and the many treats, I can’t wait for my family to come home.
I know they are coming soon because Becky put all her stuff in her bag and cleaned up the house. I wait on the couch looking out the window. When I see the car pull into the driveway, I jump off the couch and bark at Peach. She checks the window, and we scratch at the front door.
My family bursts through the door, and my adrenaline takes over. I sprint from Ben to Lucy to Nate to Hannah and back to Lucy. I lick everyone’s hands and even a few faces when they bend over. Soon the licks turn into sneezes, but my family doesn’t mind. They are happy to see me.
When I manage to get my tail to stop bouncing, I sit in Lucy’s lap on the couch. I listen to Hannah and Nate ask a few questions of Becky. Becky doesn’t say a word about the sock incident. In fact, she says the week went
great.
I can get away with anything these days.
After Becky leaves, my family carries a bunch of bags in the house. They empty the bags and settle in the living room. I bring an owl to Nate, and we play keep-away. Ben tosses tennis balls to Peach.
After an hour of playing, we go upstairs. Peach and I cuddle with Lucy and close our eyes. Soon I hear the sleep-breathing of Lucy and the snoring of Peach. I close my eyes. Everything is right. Everything is perfect.
4
The Cone of Shame
I wake up to the darkness of the middle of the night. I am under the blankets. It’s too hot. I slither my way forward to get fresh air, but I can’t get out. Peach must be lying on top of the blankets. I turn around and step over Lucy under the blankets. There isn’t much space before the bed ends on this side, but I creep forward and poke my head out on the pillow. The fresh air feels great. I close my eyes.
Something jerks me out of sleep later that night. My tongue is dry, so I need water. I can’t see, but I jump to the floor to find water. I step forward. The water bowl should be in front of me, but I can’t find it. Frustrated, I turn around quickly and smash forehead first into the corner of the bed.
Pain surges through one of my eyes. I crumple to the floor. My body trembles. I blink several times, hoping the blinking will flush out what is hurting my eye. It doesn’t help. Maybe I can get it out with my paw. I paw at my eye, but the pain only worsens the longer my eye is open. It feels terrible.
I don’t know what to do.
I lie shaking on the floor, eyes closed. Maybe I can sleep it off. I try to relax, but I can’t settle down. In a panic, I hurry into Hannah and Nate’s room. I can’t jump on the bed because I can’t see, so I lie on the ground next to their bed, whimpering and groaning.
Please wake up.
The pain is terrible. I think I’m going to lose my eye. Oh no. Hannah. Nate. Please.