Fenway and Hattie (10 page)

The Wicked Floor!

How could things get any worse? Hattie's in trouble. An Evil Squirrel is trying to keep me from saving her. And the Wicked Floor is in my way.

I can't let it stop me. I won't!

Hey, wait a minute! What am I thinking? I can go the other way!

“I'm coming, Hattie!” I bark. In a flash, I'm halfway down the hallway. I'm almost there! But then I meet another obstacle—The Gate. It's blocking my way to the door!

I can't get through, but I can't give up. There's too much at stake. Before I can talk myself out of it, I race back toward the Eating Place. There's only one thing to do.

I muster every ounce of courage I have. I dig in my claws and crawl inside the doorway, fighting to keep my balance. “I'm warning you for the last time, Squirrel,” I bark. “Go away or face the consequences!”

The Evil Squirrel turns toward me and freezes. He gives a slight “shhhh.” Is he scared? Or about to make his move?

There's no time to take chances. I must strike first. I take a couple of stumbling steps. I'm scrambling. I'm slipping. I'm going down.

But no—I must save Hattie! I keep racing ahead. Nothing can get in my way. I'm hurtling toward the Evil Squirrel. My paws slip and slip, but I pull myself up. “Hold on, Hattie!” I bark.

When I get close, I bear down on my front paws. I lunge at the Evil Squirrel. “Prepare for certain doom!”

Obviously frightened, he gasps.

My cue to pounce! I paw the Evil Squirrel's lumpy, bumpy fur. Which does not feel very furry.

He holds out an arm . . . That's his defense?

I throw myself at him again, nipping, pulling, tugging. Until he is scared right out of his skin.

Literally! As the Evil Squirrel shrieks in horror, the lumpy, bumpy covering slides off his body. Which smells awfully familiar, like mint and vanilla. And a bit like that choky spray . . .

Hattie?

Is my nose deceiving me? I back off. I cock my head and glance up into the wonderful dark eyes that I'd know anywhere.

It IS Hattie!

“Fenway,” she says. “Sit!”

My gaze locks to hers as if pulled by an invisible leash. I sink onto my bum, my tail thumping the cool, slick floor.

“Good boy! Good boy!” Hattie squeals. She drops to her knees, squeezing me and patting my head.

I slobber her nose and her eyes and her chin. Hooray! Hooray! My Hattie came back, and she's not a squirrel anymore. And best of all, she's loving me again.

Hattie rubs my belly, laughing and showering me with kisses. It's a deliciously happy moment that I hope will never end. She missed me so much, she can hardly do enough to show it. And wowee, the love and appreciation sure feel great.

“I missed you, too,” I bark. I'm nuzzling Hattie's wet hair—where's her cap and bushy tail?—when my ears perk.

Whooshing, howling noises are coming from outside. Suddenly, I remember the gigantic squirrels.

I race over to the sliding door. I peer out, but there's only blackness and pounding rain. In the few flashes of
light, all I see is an empty Dog Park. And the giant tree's leaves rippling and blowing in the wind.

Those evil squirrels are gone!

Clearly, they were petrified. “And don't even think about coming back,” I bark in triumph.

When I rush back into the Eating Place, it's bathed in bright light. Food Lady's rubbing her eyes, and Fetch Man's wearing his glasses. They look like they just woke up.

“Hattie,” Food Lady says in a voice that sounds glad but mostly relieved. Honestly, you'd think discovering that Hattie has returned would be cause for a full-blown celebration.

Fetch Man says, “Fenway!” He sounds surprised. Did he forget about me?

Hattie speaks very quickly. She must be explaining to Food Lady and Fetch Man what happened—that she turned into a squirrel and a pack of rival squirrels invaded her house, but a fierce and loyal dog frightened the squirrels away.

And in case they couldn't figure out who the hero is, Hattie gestures dramatically toward the middle of the floor where I'm standing. With a huge smile on her face.

Gosh, I almost feel embarrassed.

Food Lady's eyes bulge. Her hands fly up to her mouth.

Fetch Man squats down, grabbing his knees. His face is beaming. “Good boy!” he says, more surprised than ever.

“Good job!” Food Lady rushes over and gives me a tight squeeze. Fetch Man joins in.

Hey, it's all in a day's work, I want to say. No squirrel has a chance against me. But then again, I could get used to the lovefest.

And then, right when I thought things couldn't get any better, a spectacular sight comes into view—my supper dish. It's filled with food! Did I forget to eat it?

Food Lady must be reading my mind, because she lets me go at that very moment. I shoot over and start wolfing it down like it's the First Meal of My Life. And
mmmmm
, is it ever tasty.

Apparently, my humans are just as ecstatic about the food as they were about my heroics. Hattie jumps up excitedly. Fetch Man puts his arm on Food Lady's shoulder. They are all standing over me, mesmerized. Like they've never seen a dog eat before. And frankly, it's more than a little distracting.

Hattie strokes my back. She smells happy and proud. It's the Best Smell Ever.

I gaze at my empty bowl, wondering how the food disappeared so fast. And that's when I see something else that makes my tongue start panting . . .

The Wicked Floor!

My bowl is sitting right on it. And so am I.

This can only mean one thing—I have trounced my nemesis. I am the winner!

For such a Long, Long Time, the Wicked Floor ruled the Eating Place. But not anymore. Its reign is officially over.

I flop down and rest my face on its cool surface. I rub my nose on it. Take that, you Wicked Floor! You may be Terrifying and Evil and Slippery, but you're no match for me.

When the morning light is blazing, I climb
over the cozy blankets to nuzzle Hattie.

“FEN-way,” she growls, though she smells anything but growly. I lick her face until her eyes flutter open. She's here. My Hattie's here. And we're curled up in her bed. Together. The way it's supposed to be.

After another Walk to Nowhere and returning without bread or milk or doughnuts, me and Hattie go outside to play in the Dog Park. “Fenway,” she says, pulling her hand out of her pocket.

Whoa, she's got my attention. I leap and leap, poking my nose toward her fist.
Mmmmm.
It smells delicious!

She puffs out her chest and gazes into my eyes. Her expression is full of love. And power.

A persuasive combination. I'm listening.

She opens her mouth. “Sit.”

Hey, I know that word. A beautiful memory pops into my mind. I sink onto my bum as Hattie's face breaks into that huge grin I know so well.

She holds out her arm and takes a step back. “Stay,” she commands.

Ha! I know that word, too. I sit still and wait for it.

And the treat drops into my mouth.
Chomp!
Wowee, it's completely amazing!

Just like the hug Hattie gives me. “Good boy, Fenway!” she cries, kissing my head over and over. She smells as thrilled as I feel. Who knew it was so easy to make a short human this happy?

The rest of the day, we play ball and chase. We eat treats that Food Lady makes. And later, after we all enjoy a tasty supper in the Eating Place, Fetch Man and Food Lady head to the garage door. Hattie grabs my leash. We're going for a ride in the car! This awesome day keeps on getting better.

As soon as the car stops, my tail starts going nuts. We're at the Treat Place!

I lead Hattie inside, full of happy anticipation. Friends. Treats. Hattie. What more could a dog want?

When we pass Lance, he gives me a nod. “Dude!” he says.

Rocky is trying to drag his humans back out the door. “Cheer up,” I tell him. “Treats are coming.”

Sadie cocks her head in my direction. “Fenway, where do you get your energy?”

Hattie smells cautiously optimistic. Like she wants to be in charge, but she's not going to push. And her backpack is bulging with treats. I can hardly wait for the fun.

When the One Human enters, the others focus on her immediately. And the dogs are focused on their own humans. Because of the treats.

And after the One Human finishes speaking, the only sound in the room is a chorus of thumping tails. We are so ready. Cue the treats.

Hattie puffs herself up, strong and tall. She holds out a fist. She points to the floor. “Sit,” she commands.

I know this! I know this! I plop onto my bum and wait for it. The treat drops into my open mouth.
Chomp!
Mmmmm!
How easy was that?

Hattie's whole face grins. She smells as pumped as I feel.

“Stay,” Hattie says, her voice even more confident than before. She takes a step back.

Hey, I'm not going anywhere. Her hand tosses the treat and—
chomp!
Mmmmm!
—oh yeah, that's tasty. Hattie's smile is so radiant, it makes me feel warm.

We do the exact same thing over and over. Each time, Hattie's voice is stronger and more confident than ever. And my tummy is happier and happier, just like My Hattie. Food Lady and Fetch Man stand over us, watching. Their faces are beaming with pride.

And that's not the only good news. We have loads more fun when the One Human comes over and shows me and Hattie how to play lots of other games. Hattie tells me “Down,” and I lie down, “Leave it,” and I ignore a toy, and, best of all, “Come,” and I rush into her sweet arms. She's happy, I'm happy, and the treats just keep on coming. It's an awesome slice of paradise until . . .

“Yo, man!” Lance is barking. “I said, ‘Where's the treat?'”

We all turn at once. Lance is jumping on his human, who is flailing his arms and shouting. “Hey! Get down! Off!” This guy's either totally lost it, or he's about to.

I catch Lance's eye. “Chill out, dude,” I tell him. “Your human needs you.”

Lance stops and tilts his head. “Needs me for what?”

“To make him happy.”

Lance looks totally surprised. Did he not expect me to be the source of such wisdom? Or is he stunned by the simple message?

Whatever the reason, he gets it. He gazes eagerly at his human, who is visibly relieved and says, “Sit.”

His tail swishing, Lance sinks to his bum. Yes! A treat sails into his mouth. He smacks his chops.

Lance's human lets out a whooshy breath. His face is beaming with joy.

Lance bows his head for the rub. And another treat.

Rocky turns to me, impressed.

Sadie stares, admiring my cleverness. Or maybe just checking me out.

What can I say?

After many more treats and, even better, lots more pats and hugs of happiness from my humans, we get back in the car. I snuggle onto Hattie's lap. I soak up the praise all the way
home.

The next morning, we head out to walk.
But something's different. Instead of turning up the street as usual, Hattie and Food Lady go in the opposite direction. Is this the way to the Dog Park? My nose gets busy sniffing for clues.

And right away, I find some! In the grassy park next door, I smell Golden Retriever and another breed I can't quite identify. Goldie? Patches? Is this where they live?

My tail starts going berserk. And with good reason. Hattie and Food Lady turn into the front walkway. I pull them toward the house.

The door opens and out steps Muffin Lady. And Angel. And more good news! Goldie and Patches. On leashes.

Wowee! My whole body wiggles with excitement. “'Sup, ladies?” I say.

Our noses and tails go wild with friendly greetings.

“I almost can't believe it,” Goldie says as we bound down the porch steps. “Angel's coming on a walk with us. After all this time!”

“I'm so full of hope,” Patches says in her lovely voice. “Maybe our precious Angel isn't lost to us after all.”

“Never lose hope,” I say proudly. “I didn't. And now I have My Hattie back.”

“What could've happened?” Goldie says.

“Get this,” I say. “Turns out she was changing all right. Into a squirrel!”

“Horrors!” the ladies gasp.

“Yeah, it was pretty frightening. But luckily, I saved her. In the nick of time.”

“You saved her?” Goldie says.

“What did you do?” Patches says.

“It was nothing. Just doing my job.”

“Tell us,” Patches says.

“Let's just say I can be pretty ferocious when I put my mind to it.”

Goldie looks like she wants to disagree but thinks better of it. “Wow.”

“Fenway,” Patches says in her loveliest, most admiring voice. “You're a hero.”

Awww, shucks.

The humans get busy yapping as we head into the street. Goldie and Patches do not think this is a bad idea. And I confess I'm getting used to it.

The humans turn and go in our usual direction. I hope the ladies don't think we're headed Somewhere. I'm tempted to tell them the bad news that we're not going anywhere cool like the Dog Park, but I don't want to spoil our perfect day.

As we stroll up the street, I can't help thinking this is the way it should be. Walking together, like a family. We're in the zone, ears back, eyes straight ahead. Except for the humans, who are chatting, not looking where they are going, and dragging on the leash. In other words, not behaving at all. But somehow, it's okay.

When we pass by the grassy park with the Perfectly Still Dog, he's still there. Ears perked high, gaze fixed. Carrying the same flowers in the exact same spot, like he's never even moved.

“What do you suppose is his deal?” I ask the ladies.

“What?” they both say at the same time.

“Him.” I cock my head toward the Perfectly Still Dog.

Goldie and Patches exchange glances. They must be as perplexed as I am. Patches looks like she wants to say something but doesn't.

Then Goldie says, “Fenway, you've got an interesting way of looking at things.”

“Thanks.” I guess.

We pass a few more grassy parks, trees, and bushes, then stop at a driveway where a Lady Human is rubbing sudsy water on a car. Food Lady and Muffin Lady chat with her while a short human skips across the grass, her black, silky hair bouncing behind her. She plops beside me and strokes my head. “Awww,” she coos. “Puppy!”

Clearly, this short human appreciates a handsome dog. I lick her cheek, and she giggles. She smells like glitter and glue.

She smiles at the short humans. “Zah-ra,” she says.

Hattie nudges Angel, her eyes wide. She smells like she's getting an idea.

Farther up the street, my ears pick up a familiar sound.

Tinky-tinky-tink-a-too.
That musical truck! It's headed straight for us!

Hattie and Angel must recognize it, too, because their energy surges. They hold out their hands to the tall humans, who give them flimsy little papers.

Hattie and Angel bounce on their toes, eagerly awaiting the truck's arrival. Obviously, they are ready to confront the monster like a couple of ferocious dogs. I guess they've been inspired by a certain canine hero.

But can they handle this evil on their own? I hardly have time to decide. The musical beast appears, its tinkly voice blaring. “Go away, you nasty truck!” I bark, leaping and thrashing wildly. If the leash weren't holding me back, I'd . . . I'd—

“FEN-way!” Hattie shouts. She's pushing her palm toward the pavement. “Down!”

I know this! I know this! I drop to the ground and lie at her feet.

Hattie pats my head, her body radiating total happiness. “Good boy! Good boy!” she says. She sounds deliciously wonderful. Just like the treat that sails into my mouth.

The ladies look on, impressed. What can I say?

And the short humans are just as successful in getting what they want. Clearly intimidated, the Evil Human disappears from the truck window and then returns with ice cream. Which Hattie and Angel snatch right out of his hands. That's my girls!

As we watch the musical truck cruise off into the distance, I sidle up next to Hattie. Thankfully, I don't have to wait long. A nice glob drops right in front of my paw.
Sluuuuuuurp!
Mmmmm!
Vanilla.

Back at home, another amazing thing happens. Me and Goldie and Patches head through the side gate and into . . . the Dog Park!

Hooray! Hooray! I romp with the ladies, tumbling and tussling and chasing for a Long, Long Time. It's the most fun at the Dog Park ever! Eventually, we flop down in the cool grass for a rest. I lay my head next to Patches. She licks my nose.

I'm considering a well-deserved snooze when sounds come from the front of the house. Short-human sounds.

The ladies spring up. We all flock to the side gate to investigate.

The short human we met on our walk is skipping up the driveway, a sparkly headband on her head. Hattie and Angel are rushing to greet her. “Zah-ra,” they cry. Hattie's waving. She's holding the jump rope.

Hattie hands one end of the jump rope to Zahra. Angel goes to take the other, but then shakes her head, a huge grin spreading across her face.

Hattie's eyebrows arch, but then she starts grinning, too. She and Zahra grip the handles and stand far apart. Soon the jump rope is turning and slapping the pavement in a steady beat. Hattie begins chanting in a singsong rhythm. The others chant along with her.

The jump rope circles over, around, and under a very happy Angel again and again and again. Angel hops up and down, grinning widely as the jump rope turns and slaps, slaps, slaps the driveway.

“Aha,” Patches says. “So it's a game!”

I cock my head. “What do you mean?”

“Angel's been hopping over a rope like that for days and days,” Goldie explains.

“We couldn't figure out why,” Patches says.

Goldie's fur prickles. “Maybe you couldn't. I always knew it was a game.”

“As I recall, you were just as puzzled as I was,” Patches says.

“Humph,” says Goldie.

A happy squeal directs our focus back to the gate. We watch the jumping, chanting short humans for a while, then Goldie snatches a stick and takes off. Me and Patches chase her around the Dog Park.

When it's dark outside, I finally have Hattie all to myself. I'm cuddled in her soft and cozy bed. She kisses my brown paw, then my white paw. She showers my neck with kisses. I slobber her cheek, and she giggles.

Hattie brushes my fur and sings, “Best buddies, best buddies . . .” It's the Happiest Moment Ever. Me and My Hattie are together forever, and nothing can come between us.

Sighing with contentment, I close my eyes. And then . . .

I'm sprawled out in the soft and cozy grass.

“Chipper, chatter, squawk!”
An Evil Squirrel climbs over the fence, his sharp, drooly fangs glistening in the moonlight.

I sprint after him.

“Chipper, chatter, squawk!”

“It's called a Dog Park for a reason!” I bark.

He scurries toward the back fence. Where Hattie is crouched down in the grass. Her arms wide open . . .

“Watch out, Hattie!” I bark.

But it's too late! That Evil Squirrel jumps right into her arms!

“Awww,” she coos, caressing his bristly fur.

He chippers softly and snuggles against her neck.

No! No! Somebody please tell me Hattie's not actually cuddling that nasty creature!

He looks back and glares at me. He opens his mouth . . .

CRRRRR-ACK! BOOM-KABOOM!

Whoa! That's one loud squirrel!

My eyelids pop open. Whew! I'm in Hattie's soft and cozy bed, shuddering. A bright light flashes outside. Rain pounds on the window. This cannot be good.

Hattie's clutching the used-to-be bear. She reaches for me. “Best buddies,” she whispers.

Shaking with courage, I crawl onto her chest. I nuzzle against the used-to-be bear. Hattie strokes my back. Making Hattie happy is a big job. But luckily, I'm a professional.