Moose (2 page)

Once they were all settled in the living room, Aunt Amanda explained. “Moose’s owners were very upset when they heard about him trying to run away today. They said it was the last straw, and they asked me to find him another home.”

“So we’re going to foster him?” Lizzie asked eagerly. She had always wanted to foster a Great Dane. She loved big dogs.

Charles sat on the floor, with Moose lying next to him. The big puppy rested his head on Charles’s knee. That was one heavy head. Charles’s foot was already asleep. Charles stroked Moose’s ears, scratching between them in the way
he knew all dogs liked. “How can we?” he asked. “If he’s afraid of little kids, the Bean would terrify him.”

“That’s right,” said Aunt Amanda. “Anyway, it won’t be necessary. I convinced the Brewers to give me one last chance at training Moose. I’m headed up to Camp Bowser this weekend with some other dogs, and they’ve agreed to let me take him along. If I can find a way to help Moose start to overcome his fears, they’ll consider keeping him.”

Camp Bowser was Aunt Amanda and Uncle James’s place in the country. They went up there often with their own dogs, and sometimes took a few of their clients’ dogs along as well. Charles had heard all about Camp Bowser: he knew about the cute little cabin with the screened-in Pooch Porch for dogs to nap on, the creek for them to play in, the wonderful home-baked doggy
treats Aunt Amanda made. Lizzie had been up there twice, but so far, Charles had never gotten to go.

“I’ll need some help, though,” said Aunt Amanda. “That’s why I’m here. Since I’ll have other dogs to watch, I think Moose needs a companion for the weekend, someone who can be with him every minute.”

“I’d love to,” said Lizzie, as if Aunt Amanda had invited her.

Mom held up a hand. “Lizzie,” she said. “What about your trip to Boston?”

Lizzie’s face fell. “Oh,” she said. “Well, maybe I could —”

“Actually,” said Aunt Amanda, “I was going to ask Charles this time.” She smiled at him. “It seems as if you and Moose have already become friends. I think he trusts you, Charles.”

Charles felt his face grow hot, and knew he was
blushing. It was very flattering that a frightened dog like Moose would feel safe with him. And it was an even bigger compliment for Aunt Amanda to want him along on this special weekend. “Wow,” he said. “Can I, Mom? Can I go?”

Mom looked at Dad. He nodded, and they both smiled. “Sure,” she said, turning back to Charles. “I think Moose needs you. I guess that means you and Lizzie
both
have some packing to do tonight.”

“I’m just wondering,” Dad asked Aunt Amanda, “why would a dog become so fearful to begin with?”

“It’s hard to say,” said Aunt Amanda. “Some dogs have a bad experience as puppies, and it sticks with them. For example, one dog I knew was kicked by a big man when she was a little puppy, so she was afraid of large men from then on. Other scaredy-dogs were never socialized
enough. That may be the case with Moose. After the Brewers adopted him, they spent a lot of time at their country house, so he didn’t meet many other dogs or people. They finally started to take him to obedience classes, and that’s been great for him. But since he didn’t have a variety of experiences when he was younger, every new thing scares him.”

“So how can you teach him not to be scared?” asked Lizzie.

“Dog trainers have lots of different methods,” said Aunt Amanda. “I think the best way is probably desensitization.”

“De-
what
?” asked Charles.

“I know, it’s a big word,” said Aunt Amanda. “Basically, it just means helping the dog become less sensitive to scary things by introducing them slowly and carefully, a little bit at a time.”

Charles was interested. “Like how?”

“Okay,” said Aunt Amanda. “Let’s say Moose
is afraid of . . .” She looked around the room. “Squeaky toys,” she said, spotting Buddy’s favorite toy, Mr. Duck. “Which he is, probably because they make a sudden noise that surprises him.”

She went over and picked up Mr. Duck. “Some trainers believe in a technique called ‘flooding,’ “ she said. “They think that you should expose the dog to whatever scares him until he just gets used to it. They would take Mr. Duck right up close to Moose and make the toy squeak over and over.”

“That’s mean.” Charles put his arm around Moose. Moose sighed and settled in closer to Charles, leaning his full, heavy weight against him. “I would never do that to a dog.”

“Neither would I,” said Aunt Amanda. “What I would do is first try to get Moose used to having Mr. Duck around. I would leave Mr. Duck where Moose could see him, and if Moose
happened to go over on his own to check out the toy I would praise him and give him treats, so he would be rewarded for being curious and brave.”

“And then?” asked Lizzie. “What about the squeaky part?”

“Noises can be very scary for dogs,” said Aunt Amanda. “Remember, their hearing is even better than ours, so even a small noise can sound loud. I would start by taking Mr. Duck far away before I made him squeak.” She carried Mr. Duck over to the fireplace and gave him a tiny squeeze.

A small squeak came out, and Moose’s ears perked but he did not get up to run away. “Good boy.” Charles stroked the big dog’s cheek. It was like petting a horse’s jaw.

“That’s exactly right, Charles. Reward him for being brave,” said Aunt Amanda. “Then, over
time, I would slowly bring Mr. Duck closer and closer, making him squeak and giving Moose pats and treats if he did not run away. I might also try to distract Moose with some other activity, like having him do a trick for me. Finally, hopefully, Moose would be able to have Mr. Duck squeak right there next to him.”

“Wow,” said Lizzie. “That’s a lot of work.”

Aunt Amanda nodded. “It sure is. And it takes a lot of time. But if we can get him started, I think the Brewers would be happy to keep working with him. They’ve really enjoyed getting into obedience training with Moose, and they really do love him.”

“Who wouldn’t love this guy?” Charles gave Moose a kiss on the nose. Moose kissed him back, licking his cheek with a giant, slurpy tongue.

You’re my pal, aren’t you
?

“Well,” said Aunt Amanda, “Moose and I had better get going. Can you be ready first thing tomorrow morning, Charles? We want to leave early.”

“I’ll be ready,” Charles promised. He couldn’t wait to be at Camp Bowser with Moose.

Packing for his weekend away was easy. Getting up early? A breeze. The only hard part about going to Camp Bowser, thought Charles, was saying good-bye to Buddy. Now, sitting in the backseat of Aunt Amanda’s van, Charles remembered how Buddy had looked up at him so hopefully when he put his duffel bag by the door. “Sorry, Buddy,” Charles had told him as he sat down to give him a hug. “You’re not coming with me this time. I wish you could, but I think you might scare Moose. You stay home and keep Mom and Dad and the Bean company, okay?” Charles was not sure that Buddy understood, but he had given
him lots of extra-special hugs and pats while he waited for Aunt Amanda to pick him up.

“Buddy’s going to miss you and Lizzie this weekend,” said Aunt Amanda now, catching Charles’s eye in the rearview mirror. It was as if she had read his mind. “Your parents will, too. The house will be awfully quiet with both of you away.”

Charles nodded. At the moment, he had a lump in his throat that made it hard to answer. He hoped he would not feel too homesick up at Camp Bowser. He looked over at Moose, who was snoozing in an enormous crate next to Charles’s seat. A few other crates were crammed into the back of the van, holding more dogs who were on their way north for a weekend of fun in the country. Aunt Amanda had brought her dog, Bowser (the golden retriever her business was named after), but she had left her three pugs home with Uncle James so the little dogs wouldn’t scare Moose.

“We’re going to have a good time, Moose,” Charles said softly. “I bet you’ll love it at Camp Bowser.”

Moose opened his eyes and looked up at Charles, worried wrinkles furrowing his big forehead.

Really? Are you sure? Because I think it might be kind of scary
.

Charles poked a finger through the crate to scratch Moose’s ear. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” Moose sighed and went back to sleep, head on crossed paws.

“I’m counting on you to keep a close eye on Moose this whole weekend and be his pal,” said Aunt Amanda. “If there’s another thunderstorm, or something else frightens him, the best thing to do is distract him so he doesn’t focus on the scary thing. Talk gently to him, but don’t baby him. Give him some treats so he has a happy
experience instead of a frightening one. Can you do that?”

“Sure,” said Charles. He patted his pocket, where there were four or five small dog biscuits. He always carried treats, just in case he met a dog he wanted to make friends with.

Then he reached into his backpack and pulled out the deck of cards he’d brought along. He had also packed
1-2-3 Magic
, the book he hoped to learn some tricks from. He planned to start with card tricks, since those seemed the simplest. There was only one problem. Even though
1-2-3 Magic
was supposedly for beginners, the author started the directions for every card trick with “Shuffle the cards. . . .”

Charles did not know how to shuffle. When he and Sammy played war, which they sometimes did for hours at a time on rainy days, Sammy always shuffled. Charles suspected that Sammy sometimes shuffled some of the
better cards into his half of the deck. It might be good if he learned to shuffle, too.

He opened the little box of cards and shook them out. “Oops!” They slid out of his hands and spilled all over the floor of the van.

“What do you have there, Charles?” Aunt Amanda looked at him in the mirror again.

“Just some cards.” Charles scooped up as many as he could reach. He wasn’t ready to tell anyone that he was learning magic. He wanted to surprise everyone once he had some great tricks ready. He split the deck into two parts and tried shoving them together, but most of them fell into his lap. He scooped them up again and tried shuffling another way, the way Sammy did it where he flipped the corners together. That was even worse. The ace of spades, the queen of hearts, and the four of diamonds ended up inside Moose’s crate. Moose was so fast asleep that he did not even twitch.

Charles kept picking up the cards and
practicing. But by the time Aunt Amanda turned off the main highway and drove up a long, bumpy dirt road, he had still not learned to shuffle. When the van came to a stop, he shoved the cards into his backpack and zipped it shut. “Is this it?” he asked. “Is this Camp Bowser?”

“That’s right,” said Aunt Amanda. “Welcome.”

In the middle of a clearing in the woods, a tiny cabin peeked out from behind two tall pine trees, reminding Charles of the way Moose had peeked out from behind Aunt Amanda at the Petersons’ front door the night before.

Birdsong drifted out from the woods, and a sweet, piney smell filled the air. Charles took a long, deep breath and smiled. Camp Bowser was all right.

“I like to take all the dogs down to play in the stream first thing when we get here,” said Aunt Amanda as she opened up the back of the van, “so they can stretch their legs.” She
unlatched Moose’s crate and led him out on his leash. Charles unbuckled his seat belt and got out, too.

Moose yawned and shook himself, setting his floppy ears flapping. Then he lay down and began to roll in the grass, happily stretching his legs this way and that as he squirmed and scratched his whole long back on the ground.

This feels so good, it makes me forget about being scared!

Then he jumped up, with a jingle of collar tags, and began to sniff all around.

I smell other dogs here. I hope they’re not those little ones who like to nip at my ankles
.

Aunt Amanda stood holding the leash, smiling at Moose. “This is how he gets to know a new
place,” she said to Charles. “It’s only fair to let him sniff a little.” After he had rolled and sniffed for a while longer, she said, “Moose, come.” Moose whirled around at the end of the leash and came right over to sit as still as a statue, in front of and facing Aunt Amanda, with his ears perked up and his eyes focused on her eyes. “Good boy,” she said.

“Wow,” said Charles. “He sure does listen to you.”

“Bowser wasn’t this well trained until he was at least three years old,” Aunt Amanda told Charles. “All the obedience training the Brewers have done has really paid off.” She looked down at Moose and made a hand signal, tapping her left thigh. “Heel, Moose,” she said.

Moose practically leapt into the air in his eagerness to obey, landing in another perfect sit at Aunt Amanda’s side. “Let’s go,” she said to Moose as she took a step forward. Moose stuck to her
side like glue, looking up at her face to watch for any clues about which way they were going.

Charles was impressed. Buddy was a good dog, and he could sit and shake hands and stuff like that, but Moose was amazing. Aunt Amanda handed Moose’s leash over to Charles and began to get the other dogs out of the van.

At first, Charles was a little nervous. Moose was almost taller than he was, and he looked like he could pull somebody over in a second. Charles cleared his throat. “Um . . . heel, Moose,” he said. And Moose heeled! He stuck right to Charles’s left side as Charles practiced walking the big puppy up and down. He didn’t even have to give the commands; Moose walked calmly next to him without one bit of pulling or jumping or lagging behind, all the things Buddy usually did on a leash.

They all walked down to the stream together. Bowser led the way through the tall grass, his feathery tail waving proudly as he showed off
his place to the other dogs. He didn’t have to be on a leash, but Aunt Amanda had clipped leashes onto the dogs she’d brought: Tobey, a young chocolate Lab, and Sofie, a basset mix. They romped after Bowser, sniffing at everything. Closer to the stream, the path through the grass became a trail through the woods, with rocks and roots underfoot and bright green ferns and mosses lining the sides. All the way down the trail, Moose walked very nicely next to Charles, without any tugging.

Soon they came to a little pool by a waterfall. The dogs splashed around in the cool, clear water, chasing frogs and wetting their bellies and sticking their snouts in for long, slurpy drinks. Even Moose waded in up to his ankles, though he jumped right back out when a tadpole tickled his snout. Then Aunt Amanda said it was time to head back and finish unpacking the van.

Charles led the way back up the path, with
Moose still walking like a perfect gentleman right at his side. Then something slithered across the rocky trail. A little snake! Just a tiny one, a garter snake that Charles knew would never hurt anybody. Charles saw it first and tightened his grip on Moose’s leash. Then Moose spotted it and stopped short.

Yikes!

The big dog leapt sideways into the air, then took off at a mad gallop, pulling Charles right over and dragging him along.