Buddy (2 page)

When Lizzie hung up, Ms. Dobbins was giving her a curious look. “A Peterson Powwow?” she asked.

Lizzie nodded. “It’s a special meeting,” she said. “We always have one for really important family decisions.” It wasn’t always easy to get all the Petersons together, but when somebody mentioned a powwow, they would drop everything else to attend.

“Well,” said Ms. Dobbins. “This is definitely a really important decision. Taking Skipper and her pups would be a big responsibility, and your whole family has to agree that it’s the right thing to do.”

Lizzie nodded again. “I know,” she said. She could guess exactly how each member of her
family would feel about fostering Skipper and the three puppies. Charles would be all for it. So would the Bean, of course. Dad would be concerned, but he would agree to it, as long as Lizzie and Charles promised that they would do most of the work. And Mom? She would definitely need some convincing. Mom had gotten used to the idea of the family fostering puppies, but so far they had only taken one at a time. This was a whole different story.

Lizzie walked three shelter dogs while she waited for her family to arrive. She kept her fingers crossed the whole time.

She kept checking on Skipper and her pups, too. By the third time Lizzie visited, she was pretty sure that Skipper recognized her. And she was definitely sure that Skipper liked her. Some dog mothers could be very protective, but Lizzie thought Skipper would trust her around the puppies. She could hardly wait to hold them in her lap!

Finally, when she was out in the fenced-in yard
playing fetch with a black Lab named Tigger, she saw her dad’s red pickup pull into the parking lot.

Lizzie ran inside and put Tigger back in his kennel, just as Ms. Dobbins came into the dog room, followed by Charles, Dad, and Mom. Dad had the Bean by the hand, holding him tightly so that he wouldn’t run up to each of the kennels and put his fingers through the wire. Dogs and puppies always seemed to love the Bean, but Lizzie and her family knew it was best to play it safe.

Mom had her hands over her ears. All the dogs were barking to greet the new visitors, and the dog room was pretty noisy.

“Lizzie?” asked Ms. Dobbins. “Would you like to introduce your family to Skipper?”

Lizzie’s heart thumped. More than anything, she wanted to take Skipper home with them, and help her keep her babies safe and warm and happy until they could find perfect homes for each one. By now, she’d had her fingers crossed for so long
that they were feeling cramped. But she tried to hide the nervousness in her voice. “Sure,” she said. “She’s over here.” She led the way to Skipper’s kennel.

Skipper was curled up on a green corduroy dog bed with a proud, motherly look on her pretty brown-and-tan face. Her three puppies gave squeaky barks and growls as they crawled around busily, climbing over one another in a big, happy puppy pile.

Lizzie looked at her mom hopefully as the family approached the kennel. “You see,” she began, “the thing is that Skipper has —”

Charles saw them first. “Puppies!” He gasped in surprise.

When Dad saw them, he let out a “Whoa!” But he had a big smile on his face.

“Uppy!” yelled the Bean, laughing his googly laugh.

Mom took one look and turned to Lizzie. “Elizabeth Maude Peterson,” she said. “Are you
out of your mind?” She only used Lizzie’s full name when she was really, really upset with her.

“Mom —” Lizzie began.

Ms. Dobbins interrupted. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” she said. “And normally, I would only send Skipper and her family to a home where the caretakers were experienced with very young puppies. But we’re in a jam. We just have too many dogs on our hands.”

Dad and Charles and the Bean were talking excitedly as they watched the puppies play.

“Look at that little one,” said Dad. “What a cutie!”

“That’s the boy,” Lizzie told him. “The other two are girls.”

“Bossy big sisters,” said Charles. “Just like mine.” He grinned and stuck out his tongue at Lizzie. Meanwhile, the two bigger puppies knocked the smaller one down as they wrestled over a squeaky rubber toy. Charles laughed. “They look just like the puppies in that book
So Many Puppies,”
he
said. That was one of his and Lizzie’s favorite books of all time. Mary Thompson, the author, had just moved to Littleton. That was big news. And there was even bigger news: On Monday she was coming to Littleton Elementary to visit with all the classes!

Charles and Lizzie’s mom, who was a reporter for the
Littleton News,
had written an article about the author. She had gone to her house to interview her, and she said Mary Thompson wasn’t stuck up at all, even though she was famous.

Now Mrs. Peterson didn’t say a word. She wasn’t even watching the puppies. She was still frowning at Lizzie. “How could we possibly handle a whole litter of puppies?” she asked. “With you and Charles in school, and the Bean needing so much attention at home?” She shook her head.

“Oh, Mom,” said Charles. “Please? Pretty please?” He looked at her pleadingly.

“Uppy?” Bean asked hopefully.

“Okay, powwow time,” Dad said. “Here’s what I think: It would be a lot of work, but if we all pitch in, we can do it.” He smiled down at Lizzie and Charles. “These two have proved that they can be very responsible,” he reminded Mom. “I’m game if the rest of you are,” he finished.

“It would be a great family experience,” Lizzie added. She knew her mother was big on things that brought the family together. “And it’s only for a few weeks.”

“And you’d be doing us a
huge
favor,” said Ms. Dobbins. “We will support you in any way we can, including giving you supplies and plenty of advice.”

Mom finally stopped staring at Lizzie. She glanced into the kennel at Skipper and her puppies, and Lizzie saw her mom’s eyes soften. The boy puppy was whimpering for his mother. He needed help. He was stuck between two big dog bowls. Skipper nudged him gently, and his
whimpers turned to happy sighs as he ran away from the bowls and to his Mom’s side.

Lizzie had the feeling that her mom was beginning to feel a connection to Skipper. After all, they were both mothers. “Mom?” Lizzie asked softly. “Please?”

“Well . . .” Mom said.

Charles woke up early the next morning. As soon as he opened his eyes, he remembered: puppies! He threw a sweater over his pajamas and went downstairs, thankful that it was Sunday and he could spend the whole day at home with Skipper and her three babies. The house was quiet. When he turned on the light in the kitchen, Skipper looked up at him with her soft brown eyes.

Charles felt lucky to be the first one up. It gave him a chance to be alone with the puppies. Things had been so crazy the night before! He had not had the chance to really get to know them.

Once the whole family had agreed to foster Skipper and her puppies, things had moved very fast. After a crash course in puppy-raising from
Ms. Dobbins, the Petersons had brought the whole gang home that very night.

Before dinner, Dad had gone into town and brought back a big box that had once held a washing machine. He also brought home egg rolls and chicken lo mein from China Star. That was Charles’s favorite dinner, next to pizza.

Before they sat down to eat, Charles, Lizzie, and Dad cut up the big box and put it in a corner of the kitchen. Once they made an opening for a door, it made a perfect bed for Skipper and her puppies. The Bean donated one of his old baby blankets and two of his favorite dog toys: his fluffy sheepskin Dolly, and the long, tattered Snakey.

It took the rest of the evening to get Skipper and her puppies settled in, and by bedtime Charles and Lizzie were exhausted. Even the Bean crawled into his “big-boy bed” without any of his usual tricks. Mom and Dad promised to check on the puppies at least once in the middle of the night.

Now, in the early-morning light of the kitchen, Skipper lifted her head and thumped her tail when Charles approached the box. “Good girl,” said Charles, patting Skipper’s silky ears.

The three puppies were deep in sleep, but they began to stir when they heard Charles. Charles reached into the box to pick up the darker brown girl puppy. “It’s okay, Skipper,” he told the mother dog. “Ms. Dobbins said it’s time to start letting the pups get used to people. I promise to be very, very careful.”

Skipper knew she could trust the boy. He was gentle and kind. But it wasn’t easy to see her puppy so far away. She whimpered softly and watched very closely as the boy put the puppy on his lap.

Charles sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, cuddling the soft, warm, squirmy pup.

“You’re up early,” said Dad when he came into
the kitchen a few minutes later. He got the coffee machine going, then knelt to pat Skipper. Lizzie arrived next, and soon she was sitting on the floor near Charles, holding the light brown girl puppy.

By the time everyone was downstairs, the kitchen was warm and bright and full of good smells as Dad flipped pancakes at the stove. Skipper was already beginning to get used to having people touch her puppies, and Charles and Lizzie were getting to know their new guests.

“Uppy!” said the Bean, running over to reach for a puppy.

“No, no,” said Mom, catching him by the shirt.

“No” was not the Bean’s favorite word. He stared up at Mom.

“You can look, and you can pet a puppy if Charles or Lizzie is holding it,” Mom told him. “But the puppies are still very little, and we have to be very careful with them.”

The Bean looked like he might start wailing.

“Sit here,” Charles said quickly, patting the floor beside him. “Watch! The puppies are going to eat breakfast!” He and Lizzie had tucked their puppies back in the box with their mother. They had been whining, and Lizzie knew they must be hungry. Sure enough, they ran straight to Skipper and began to nurse.

The puppies were so interesting to watch that the Petersons forgot all about their own breakfast. The pancakes sat on the table, getting cold.

“What about the little boy?” Mom asked after a while. “He’s not getting anything to eat.”

“That’s because his dumb big sisters always push him out of the way,” Charles said.

Gently, Mom reached into the box and helped the tan boy pup find a place to nurse. Then she patted Skipper on the head.

Skipper licked the nice lady’s hand. She had a feeling the lady must be a mother, too. The lady knew that Skipper’s little boy needed a little help.

“The boy puppy is very shy,” said Lizzie.

“And the girl with the dark brown coat is really adventurous,” Charles said. “She’s always the first one to check out something new.”

“The lighter one seems like a real lovebug,” Dad noted. “She’s full of kisses and she loves to be held.”

It was amazing how each of the puppies had their own personalities, even though they were so young.

“We need to name them!” said Charles.

“Well, their forever families will probably want to do that,” Mom said. She was always quick to remind Charles and Lizzie that they were only a
foster
family.

“Ms. Dobbins said we could give them temporary names,” Lizzie said. “I was thinking about Tic, Tac, and Toe.”

“That’s dumb!” Charles said. He had another idea. “I vote for Eenie, Meany, Miney, and Moe!”

“But there are only three puppies!” Lizzie said.

Oops. That was true. Maybe he hadn’t really thought those names through. But Charles didn’t want to give up. “Right,” he said. “Who would name a puppy Meany?”

Lizzie was just shaking her head.

“How about Larry, Moe, and Curly?” asked Dad. “Those were the names of the Three Stooges, on TV. I used to love those guys.” He gave Charles a noogie on the head.
“Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk,”
he said in a funny voice.

Now Mom was shaking
her
head. “The Three Stooges were all boys,” she reminded Dad. “I think we should name the puppies after their colors.”

“What do you mean?” asked Lizzie.

“Well, we could call the light brown girl Cinnamon,” Mom said.

Lizzie considered the name. “I like it,” she said. She reached for the sweet girl puppy, who was extra drowsy after her nursing.

Charles liked it, too. Cinnamon toast was one of his favorite snacks. “Yeah! And the darker brown one could be Cocoa!” he added. Her soft brown fur reminded him of hot chocolate, something he liked to drink when he was eating cinnamon toast.

“And what about you, buddy?!” Lizzie asked the little boy who was nosing around the box. “What’s your name going to be?”

“How about . . .
Buddy?”
Charles asked. The name didn’t have anything to do with the puppy’s color. But everybody noticed that the tiny boy looked up when Charles said the name. “He just seems like a little Buddy, you know?” The puppy looked up at Charles again.

“Okay,” said Lizzie, laughing. “Buddy it is.”

“I think all the names are perfect,” said Charles. He could not have felt happier. If there was anything more wonderful than fostering one puppy, it was fostering three!

The Petersons’ pancakes were still waiting on the table when Charles’s best friend showed up.

“Where are the puppies?” Sammy asked as he barged into the kitchen that Sunday morning. “What’s for breakfast? Is anyone going to eat those pancakes?” Sammy lived next door but he seemed to eat most of his meals at the Petersons’. He was always on time for breakfast, and he always burst in without knocking.

It was funny that Sammy didn’t knock, because he
loved
telling knock-knock jokes. He had a new one almost every morning, and usually Charles had a joke to tell, too. But not this morning. Before Sammy could even say, “Knock-knock,” Charles said, “Shhh!” He pointed to the box. He had called
Sammy the night before to tell him about the puppies. Now he couldn’t wait to show them off, but he knew that it was best to be quiet around Skipper and her little ones.

Skipper was worried. Who was this loud new person? She got to her feet in case she would have to protect her puppies.

Cocoa wasn’t scared at all. She started walking right toward the new boy. Everything new was interesting. Everything new was fun. Cocoa always wanted to find out more.

Cinnamon barely paid attention. She was too busy nuzzling the girl’s chin. She would give her one more lick. Okay. Maybe two.

Buddy wondered where his mother was going. Wait! He wasn’t done eating yet! He was so hungry. Why did his sisters always hog the food? They used to take care of him, but now they pushed him aside.

“Oh, wow,” Sammy said in a hushed voice. “Boy, are they cute! Can I hold one?”

“Lap!” said the Bean sternly, pointing a finger at Sammy.

Everybody cracked up. “He knows the rules!” Lizzie said. “You have to be sitting on the floor to hold a puppy in your lap. They’re just too squirmy for it to be safe any other way.” Lizzie paused. “Oh, and watch out for their puppy teeth! They’re just coming in, and they are super sharp. We’ll have to start teaching them that it’s not okay to bite.”

Sammy was nodding. “Okay, okay,” he said, sitting down next to Charles. “Now can I hold one?”

Cocoa was already on her way over to check Sammy out. Charles helped him pick up the puppy so he could hold her in his lap. “This is Cocoa.”

“And this is Cinnamon!” Lizzie smiled proudly down at the light brown puppy, who kept scrambling up to nibble on Lizzie’s chin.

“And Buddy,” said Charles, reaching out to stroke the tan boy puppy. Buddy was still waiting
for Skipper to settle down again, so he could eat some more. “He’s shy.”

“He’s little, too,” said Sammy. “And he’s not running around like the others. What’s wrong with him? Whoa there!” He held on to squirmy Cocoa, who was trying to wiggle away to go look at something new.

“Nothing’s wrong with him!” said Charles. But Buddy did seem slower than his sisters. Maybe he was just sleepy. After all, they had just eaten.

“They look just like the puppies in
So Many Puppies,”
said Sammy.

“That’s what I said!” Charles agreed.

“Hey, want to hear a joke?” Sammy asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “What do you call a five-day-old dog in Sweden?”

Charles thought for a second. “How should I know?” he asked.

“A puppy!” Sammy crowed. He cracked himself up.

Charles laughed, too, but he didn’t really think
it was such a funny joke. “How about this one?” he asked. “Why did the dog carry a clock?”

Sammy shrugged.

“Because he wanted to be a watchdog!” Charles said. He laughed. He thought that one was much better.

“You guys should pay more attention to your puppies and less to your jokes,” Lizzie suggested.

Charles made a face at her, but he knew she was right. Cocoa was about to crawl inside the pots-and-pans cabinet and Buddy was heading back to Skipper, probably for more food. Charles and Sammy helped round up all the puppies and get them into the box with Skipper.

After the Petersons — and Sammy — finally ate their pancakes, Mom said it was time to try giving the puppies their first real food. Ms. Dobbins had told the Petersons how to do it. Mom mixed up some puppy formula with rice cereal, and Charles helped scrape the gooey mess into a
special puppy-feeding dish Ms. Dobbins had given them.

Lizzie spread newspapers on the kitchen floor, and Charles set the dish on the papers. The puppies waded right into the food as if it were a swimming pool on a hot day!

Yum, thought Cocoa. She stuck her face into the delicious-smelling mush and licked some up.

What is this? Cinnamon wondered. She nibbled some of the gooey stuff off Cocoa’s ear.

Buddy knew the white stuff was food, but he couldn’t figure out how to eat it. It was different from nursing. Oh, well. At least it smelled nice. It might be a good place for a nap.

Everybody laughed when Buddy lay down in the middle of the dish. Cinnamon jumped out and shook herself off, just like a grown-up dog. White goo flew everywhere! Then Cocoa walked out and
trotted over to Charles, leaving a trail of sticky white footprints across the kitchen floor. Buddy just rolled around in the dish, as if he didn’t know what to do with all that food.

Everybody laughed some more.

What a disaster! Charles could hardly believe that three tiny puppies could make such a gigantic mess.

Lizzie picked up Cinnamon and started to dry her off with a paper towel.

Sammy dove to catch Cocoa before she made even more footprints.

Mom tried to pull Buddy out of the dish
and
keep the Bean from getting
into
the dish. “This is ridiculous!” she said.

“Oh, well!” said Dad as he ran for more paper towels. “Puppies will be puppies!”