Honey (2 page)

“Quick, pick Buddy up,” Charles told Sammy. At the same time, he shortened Honey’s leash so that she was standing right next to him. He put his hand on her collar. “We don’t want to distract that working dog.” Charles had spotted a big brown dog — he had a feeling Lizzie would say it was a chocolate Lab — wearing an orange vest that said
SERVICE DOG
. The dog was walking between Harry and a pretty girl who was gliding along in a wheelchair.

“Charles, my man!” Harry held out his hand for a high five as soon as he was close enough. “How’s it going?”

“Great!” said Charles. Honey was struggling to pull away and say hello, but once he’d smacked
hands with Harry, Charles got a good grip on the puppy and held her close. She wriggled all over and wagged her tail and gave Harry a big puppy grin. “This is our new foster puppy, Honey,” Charles said. “And that’s my friend Sammy, with Buddy.”

“And this is my girlfriend, Dee, and her pal Murphy.” Harry patted the big brown dog’s head as he spoke. “What are you guys up to?”

“We were just having a puppy reunion at the bookstore,” said Charles. “Buddy got together with his sisters and his mom.”

“Cool.” Harry reached out to scratch Honey’s ears. “This girl is adorable.”

Charles knew Harry was a dog lover. In fact, he had a wonderful chocolate Lab of his own, a big, goofy guy named Zeke. “Where’s Zeke?” Charles asked.

“He’s just chilling at home today. Sometimes he’s kind of a bad influence on Murphy when they’re together.” Harry smiled down at Dee.

Dee smiled, too. “Murphy knows he’s not supposed to play when he’s on duty, but who can resist Zeke?” Her hand was resting on Murphy’s back. Murphy sat calmly and gazed up at her with his big golden-brown eyes. When Dee said his name, his tail wagged gently. Murphy was watching every move Dee made. Charles could tell that this girl and her dog were very, very close.

“What kind of service dog is Murphy?” Charles asked. “I mean, what does he do?”

“Want a demonstration?” Dee’s eyes were twinkling. “Murphy loves to show off.”

“Definitely!” Sammy spoke up before Charles could even answer.

“Yeah!” Charles agreed.

Dee winked at them. Then she reached down and gently shoved her pocketbook off her lap. “Oops!” she said as it plopped onto the sidewalk.

Instantly, Murphy jumped to his feet, grabbed the pocketbook very gently with his teeth, and
laid it carefully on Dee’s lap. Then he sat down again and gazed up at her face.

“Good boy,” said Dee. Murphy’s tail gave that little wag again.

“Wow!” said Charles. “That was awesome!”

“Really cool!” agreed Sammy. “What else can he do?”

“All kinds of things,” said Dee. “Since I can’t walk, it’s great to have Murphy’s help with things like carrying packages or getting something off a counter for me. He can help me balance as I’m getting in and out of my wheelchair, and if I fall he can help me get up. He knows how to turn on lights and open doors and how to help me dress and undress. One of his favorite jobs is helping me pull off my socks! He even helps me make my bed every morning.” She turned to look at her dog. “Don’t you, Murph?”

Now the big dog’s tail was wagging harder. Charles was sure that he knew Dee was talking
about him. Murphy even let out one big woof, as if to say,
That’s right! I sure do!

“My mom would love that!” said Sammy. “I never remember to make my bed. How do you teach a dog to do that?” Charles could tell Sammy was thinking about teaching Goldie to make his bed, too.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know!” said Dee. “I wasn’t the one who trained him. I got him through a group called Best Friends Service Dogs. Murphy went to school for a long time to learn how to do all those things. But you know what? The most important thing about Murphy isn’t all the special jobs he can do. The most important thing is that he
is
my best friend, and he’s always there when I need him. Right, Murph? You’re my best pal, aren’t you?”

Murphy stood up and gave another big woof. Now his tail was wagging like crazy.

Honey woofed back.

Hi! You look like you’d be a good friend to have. I sure would like to sniff you!

Honey’s bark was like a smaller version of Murphy’s. She squirmed and pulled at the leash, straining to get closer to the big dog.

“It’s okay,” said Dee. “Go ahead and let her say hello.”

“Buddy, too?” asked Sammy, who was having trouble hanging on to the pup in his arms.

“Buddy, too,” said Dee. “Murphy will let them know if they’re bugging him too much. He’s not shy.”

Charles and Sammy let the puppies go over to Murphy, carefully holding on to their leashes. Honey was bigger than Buddy, but both puppies were quite a bit smaller than big, strong Murphy. The two smaller pups practically tumbled over themselves, rolling on the sidewalk so their pink bellies showed. They wriggled happily as Murphy
sniffed each one in turn. Then they both jumped on him at once, attacking him playfully. Buddy nipped at Murphy’s front legs while Honey chewed on his ear, his neck, his nose — whatever she could grab.

Murphy put up with it all for a few minutes. Then Charles saw him put one big paw on top of Buddy’s back. Murphy also opened his big jaws wide and gave Honey a soft, warning play-bite. Both pups backed off quickly.

“See? Murphy knows how to handle puppies.” Dee was laughing as she watched her dog take control. “He knows how to say, ‘Enough is enough.’”

“That Honey is really something,” said Harry. “How long have you had her?”

Charles gulped. “About half an hour,” he admitted, suddenly realizing that his mom and dad did not even know yet that there was a new foster dog in the Peterson family. “We better go!” he said to Sammy. “Nice to meet you,” he told Dee.
Charles gave Murphy a pat on the head. “And your cool dog.”

“See you!” Harry said, giving Charles another high five.

“Hey, we should invite these two to our party,” Dee said to Harry. She turned to Charles and Sammy. “Want to come?” she asked. “We’re having a Valentine’s Day party at the Fairview community center on Wednesday afternoon. Nothing mushy-gushy, just cupcakes and games and things. You’ll meet a few other people who have service dogs, too.”

Charles thought it sounded like fun. “Sure,” he and Sammy both said.

“Great! See you then. And good luck with finding a home for that sweet Honey!” she added as the boys walked away.

“Forget about good luck finding Honey a home,” Charles said to Sammy as they walked back to his house. “First of all, I need good luck finding out if this puppy even has a
temporary
home with my family.”

“Don’t worry.” Sammy waved a hand. “Trust me, it’ll all work out.”

That did not really make Charles feel any better. The truth was, you could not always trust Sammy to use what Charles’s mom called “good judgment.” But it was a little late for Charles to remember that now. The boys were headed home, with Honey and Buddy trotting ahead of them down the sidewalk. Honey’s ears were perked up on alert, her tail was high, and she looked
happily from side to side, checking out everything and everybody she passed. She sure was cute. Charles could hardly imagine his mother making him bring Honey back to Mary Thompson.

When they got home, Mom’s van was not in the driveway. But Lizzie was back from working at the animal shelter. “Hey!” she called. “In here!” Lizzie was curled up on the couch in the living room, reading a book. If Charles had to guess, the book was probably about dogs.

Lizzie sat straight up and let the book drop to the floor when she saw Honey. “Oh, she’s adorable!” she cried, reaching a hand out for Honey to sniff. “Are you shy, little yellow Lab girl?”

Lizzie always knew what breed a puppy was. She’d learned a lot from that “Dog Breeds of the World” poster in her bedroom. She also usually guessed right about whether a puppy was a boy or a girl.

“Her name’s Honey. Think Mom and Dad will let us foster her?” Charles asked.

Now Lizzie was patting her lap, inviting Honey up. Honey scrambled onto the couch and tried to fit herself onto Lizzie’s lap. “Of course they will!” Lizzie said. “How could they resist?”

“Where
is
Mom, anyway?” asked Charles.

“She went to Mrs. Pritchard’s to pick up the Bean,” Lizzie said. Mrs. P. was the Bean’s new babysitter. Lizzie held Honey’s head in her hands. “Oh, look at that face! I’m going to go get the camera!” Gently, she helped Honey back onto the floor. Then she reached down to pick up Buddy. “Love you, too, little guy.” She kissed his nose, put him down next to Honey, and ran out of the room.

Mom came home about one second later. She had the Bean in her arms. His head was resting on her shoulder and his eyelids were almost shut.

“Mom —” Charles began.

But Mom put her finger over her lips.
“Shhh!
I’m going to let him sleep a little more so I can
finish an article I’m working on.” Then she spotted Honey. “Oh, my!” she whispered. “That’s a big puppy! Did Lizzie bring it home for us to foster?”

Charles shook his head. He was just about to admit that
he
had brought Honey home, when Mom said, staring at Sammy, “Yours, then? I can’t believe your parents agreed to another dog!”

Then, before either boy could say a word, she was off up the stairs with the Bean.

Charles and Sammy looked at each other.

They shrugged.

“Oh, well,” said Sammy. “It’s not as if you told her a lie!”

“No,” said Charles glumly. “But I’ll have to tell her the total truth really soon. And then it’ll look like I
did
lie, even though it wasn’t my fault.”

Just then, Lizzie came down with the camera. She started shooting pictures while the boys helped pose the dogs. First they tried to make
Buddy and Honey sit next to each other nicely, but of course that didn’t work since both puppies just charged over and tried to lick Lizzie and the camera. Then Charles gave Buddy a knotted rope tug toy, and soon Honey had grabbed the other end. The pups pulled and tugged, trying to get the toy away from each other. Then they ran around the room, each holding one end of the toy, wrestling and tumbling and growling little puppy growls.

Lizzie, Charles, and Sammy were laughing so hard they could hardly breathe, when Charles heard Mom calling from upstairs. “Lizzie! Can you go check on the Bean? I hear him calling for me but I’m just trying to finish this paragraph.”

Lizzie groaned. “I guess I’ll read his Froggy book to him for the billionth time,” she said. “That usually keeps him quiet for a little while.” She handed the camera to Charles and headed upstairs.

Charles and Sammy kept playing with the
pups. Now Buddy was teasing Honey by showing off his plush yellow duck toy. He tossed Mr. Duck in the air and ran after it, batting at it with his paws so it almost seemed alive. Honey dashed after Buddy, trying to grab the toy. She chomped on to the end of one wing and tugged so hard that Charles heard something rip. “Whoa there!” he said.

Oops! I didn’t mean to break it!

Honey let go of Mr. Duck and looked up at Charles. She lay down and rolled over so her tummy showed, just like she had when she met Murphy.

Forgive me?

“That’s okay,” Charles said. “You didn’t mean to. You’re just a big, strong puppy, that’s all.”

Instantly, Honey rolled back over, jumped to
her feet, and grabbed Mr. Duck before Buddy could get him.

Charles heard the Bean yelling. He heard his little footsteps pounding down the upstairs hall, toward Mom’s office. But the puppies were so much fun that he pretended not to hear. Finally, Mom called, “Charles! Can you come help Lizzie? Maybe if you can get him to play monkey-face, the Bean will quiet down. All I need is five more minutes.”

So Charles left Sammy in charge of the puppies and went upstairs. He found Lizzie and the Bean in Mom’s study. The Bean was trying to climb into Mom’s lap. Mom was still trying to type on her computer.

“Hey, look at me!” Charles said from behind Mom’s chair. He squooshed up his face like a monkey’s. Then he made some hooting noises and pretended to scratch under his arms. The Bean usually loved that and stopped whatever he was doing to watch and laugh and imitate Charles.

But this time the Bean wasn’t quitting. “Mama! Come
on,
Mama!” he yelled, pulling on Mom’s arm. He wailed and wailed. Then he made a “poor little puppy” face, with big sad eyes. He held his hands up under his chin, pretending they were paws, and began to whimper the way Buddy did when he wanted a treat. (Sometimes the Bean liked to pretend he was a dog.)

Finally, Mom gave up. “Okay, sweet pea.” She lifted the Bean onto her lap. Instantly, he stopped yelling. “Let’s go downstairs and see Sammy’s new puppy, shall we?” She turned back to Charles. “That sure is a cute puppy! I almost wish we were fostering it ourselves!”

“Well,” Charles began, “in that case, I guess I have some good news for you.”

Charles had to admit that his mother was a really good sport about the whole thing. When he had explained the misunderstanding about where Honey had come from, Mom had laughed. “Well, it’s partly my fault,” she’d admitted. “I was just in such a hurry to get back to work on my article.” Then she had bent down to give Honey a big smooch on the nose. “And she
is
just about the cutest puppy ever,” she said, quickly adding, “except for Buddy, of course!”

She and Dad had agreed that very night that the family could foster Honey. Mom had also agreed to drive Charles and Sammy to Fairview for the Valentine’s Day party — “as long as I get to babysit Honey while you’re there!”

Charles was telling all of this to Harry and Dee that Wednesday. He and Sammy had gotten to the community center early, and they were helping Dee blow up pink and red balloons — the finishing touch on the decorations. “Mom really loves that puppy,” Charles said, shaking his head.

“Well, who wouldn’t?” asked Dee.

“You don’t understand,” Charles said. “My mom has always been more of a cat person. She doesn’t usually go bonkers over our foster puppies. Except for Buddy, of course.” He tried to tie off the end of his pink balloon, but it was blown up too big. He let out a little air.

“So, maybe you’ll get to keep Honey forever!” Harry said. He took the balloon from Charles and managed to tie a knot. “That would be cool.”

“That would be awesome,” said Charles. “Honey is the sweetest puppy! She’s so mellow and mature. Not like some of the nutty puppies we’ve fostered.” As they blew up more balloons, Charles
told Dee and Harry a little bit about Rascal, the jumpy Jack Russell terrier, and Pugsley, the mischievous pug, two of the wildest puppies the Petersons had cared for. “Honey’s not like them,” he explained. “She doesn’t bark, or jump on people, or lick the insides of their nostrils.” Sure, she liked to play with Buddy, galloping at full speed around the house, but that was just normal puppy behavior. “And she’s not spoiled at all, like Princess was.” Charles and Harry grinned at each other.

“I didn’t have Murphy as a puppy,” said Dee, “but my friend Mimi who works for Best Friends told me he was like that, too. Very mellow, very easy to take care of.” She smiled down at her big brown dog and bopped a balloon toward him. Murphy bumped it gently with his nose and it flew back toward Dee.

“He even knows how to play catch!” Sammy exclaimed. “Murphy, you’re the best!”

Murphy’s tail thumped on the floor.

“Okay,” said Dee. “I think we have enough balloons. Anyway, it looks like some of our guests have arrived!”

Sure enough, the community center was filling up. Charles saw three or four kids riding around in wheelchairs. One girl had a very cool red scooter that Charles wanted to get a closer look at. He also saw two service dogs in orange vests, a black Lab with the girl in the scooter and a beautiful, big golden retriever with a boy in a wheelchair. Lots of other kids were running around, tossing balloons at one another, and checking out the tables full of cupcakes, cookies, and punch.

“We get a good crowd for our parties here,” said Dee. “They’re sponsored by our town’s Center for Independent Living, where disabled people help one another. But all kinds of people come to our parties, because they know we always have a good time. Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of my friends while Harry hangs up those balloons.”

First Dee introduced Sammy and Charles to
Dakota, the girl with the scooter. Her black Lab was named Boomer. She had gotten him from Best Friends, too. He was really friendly. Dakota explained all about how her scooter worked. Then the boys met Steven and his golden retriever, Kramer, who was also from Best Friends. Kramer was amazing! He could pick up anything, including a set of keys or a dollar bill, and give it back to Steven.

“And you probably know Noah,” Dee said as she and the boys approached the food tables. “He goes to your school, doesn’t he?”

Charles did recognize the boy in the wheelchair who was helping himself to a pink cupcake. He’d seen him rolling down the halls plenty of times, and out on the playground. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Charles.”

“You’re Lizzie Peterson’s brother, aren’t you?” the boy asked. “She’s in my class.”

“You’re
that
Noah!” Charles realized he’d heard all about this boy. “The artist, right?”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Noah modestly.

“Definitely, he’s an artist,” said Dee. “Noah can draw anything!”

“Yeah, didn’t you win the Fire Prevention Week poster contest?” Sammy asked.

“He’s won it every year since he was in kindergarten,” Charles said, before Noah could answer. “Lizzie talks about you all the time. I just didn’t know —” Charles stopped, embarrassed.

“You didn’t know I was in a wheelchair?” asked Noah. “Great! I’d much rather be known for being good at art or for a wacky haircut or something. Who wants to be ‘that kid in the wheelchair’?”

“Noah, why don’t you show them some of your pictures?” Dee asked. “I have to go refill the punch bowl.” She winked at Charles and Sammy, told them not to eat too many cupcakes, and rolled off with Murphy trotting behind her.

Noah pulled a notebook out of a pocket on the side of his wheelchair and flipped through it,
showing Sammy and Charles dozens of beautifully detailed drawings made with colored pencils.

“They’re all of dogs!” Charles said. Sure enough, there were great pictures of Murphy and Boomer and Kramer, plus lots of other dog drawings.

“I love dogs,” Noah told him. “They’re definitely the funnest thing to draw.”

Sammy leaned in to take a closer look at the pictures. “Wow. Look at that Great Dane! You are really, really good.”

“It’s no big deal,” said Noah. “It’s simple. I could probably teach you guys how to draw dogs, if you want. I’m here after school almost every day. Come hang out, and I’ll give you a lesson!”

Sammy and Charles looked at each other and grinned. Charles knew they were thinking the same thing. Maybe, with Noah’s help, they’d be able to finish their joke book after all!