Look at Lucy! (2 page)

Mrs. Quinn gave up. “I can see you’re not in the mood to try on jeans right now.”

Right now?
Bobby thought.
I’ll never be in the mood for that
.

“Let’s check out,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Then we’ll go to the pet store.”

“Finally,” Bobby whispered to Shawn. Shawn just nodded.

But they weren’t out of the store yet. There was a long checkout line, and it was moving slowly.

“Mom …,” Bobby pleaded.

“All right,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Pet-O-Rama is right next door. Go to the pet section and meet me there. Stick together!”

“We will!” Bobby and Shawn couldn’t get out of the store fast enough.

Pet-O-Rama was a big, brightly lit store. One half of it was packed with pet supplies. It had everything from dog food to kitty litter to mealworms. Once Bobby had picked up a container of the bugs and asked his dad what they were for.

“I think lizards eat them,” his father had said.

Lizards. Bobby was glad he didn’t have a lizard for a pet.

The other side of the store was much more interesting. That was where the animals were kept.

“Let’s go over there,” Bobby said to Shawn. He pointed in the direction of several large birdcages.

Bobby had never really spent much time on the pet side of Pet-O-Rama. As they walked up and down the aisles, he was surprised by how many choices there were.

“Do you want a bird?” Bobby asked.

They stopped in front of several large glass cases full of birds. There were parakeets in different shades of blue and green. Small songbirds chirped away. In a corner cage, standing proudly on his perch, was a big, colorful parrot.

“I wouldn’t know which one to pick,” Shawn said.

The boys were drawn to a glass-walled room with some cages on tall shelves. Inside the cages, several cats roamed. One black cat batted a toy mouse back and forth. A fluffy white cat nibbled on some dry food. And two kittens tussled with each other in a corner of one of the cages.

“Can you have a cat?” Bobby asked.

Shawn shook his head. “My sister is allergic to cat hair,” he explained.

“Too bad.” If Bobby didn’t have Lucy, he might like to own a cat.

“My mom said I should look at small pets,” Shawn said.

So the boys checked out the hamsters, guinea pigs, and turtles. Shawn seemed a little dazed. “So many choices,” he murmured. He almost seemed relieved when Mrs. Quinn came up to the boys.

“Have you made any decisions?” she asked Shawn.

He shook his head.

“Well, think about it.” Mrs. Quinn looked at her watch. “Let’s go buy Lucy’s food and get home.”

On the way out, a large, colorful poster taller than the boys caught Bobby’s eye.

The poster had a drawing of different kinds of animals crowded together in front
of a television camera. Across the top were the words WANTED: SPOKESPET FOR PET-O-RAMA! Under the picture of the animals it said, “Is your pet cute? Smart? Funny? Enter the Pet-O-Rama spokespet contest and your pet could be on TV!”

Bobby read the poster carefully. Cute, smart, funny? That described Lucy! She could win the spokespet contest, easy!

Spokespet

B
ig news! Bobby heard all kinds of big news on Friday.

First, a letter came in the mail. In the corner of the envelope it said, “Wildwood Elementary School.”

“Does it say what room I’m going to be in?” Bobby asked with excitement.

“Let’s see.” Mrs. Quinn sat down at the kitchen table and opened the letter. Bobby
sat next to her. Lucy joined them. She stretched up, putting her front paws on Bobby’s knees. Her head strained toward the table. She wanted to hear the big news.

“You’re in Mrs. Lee’s room,” Bobby’s mother told him.

“Yeah!” Bobby said. Shawn had gotten his letter yesterday. He was in Mrs. Lee’s room, too.

“Woof!”
Lucy barked.
“Woof!”
Then she scooted off.

Bobby laughed. “Lucy must know that Mrs. Lee is the teacher I wanted.”

“I’ve heard she’s very good,” Mrs. Quinn said. She read the rest of the letter. “I see there are a few more supplies to pick up. We’ll have to go back to the mall. We can do a little more clothes shopping.”

Bobby groaned. He thought he was done
with shopping. What was next? New underwear? Then Bobby had a thought. There was a good reason to go to the mall. He could go to Pet-O-Rama and get an entry form for the contest.

“When can we go?” Bobby asked.

Mrs. Quinn looked at Bobby with surprise. “How about right now?” she asked.

“First I have to call Shawn,” Bobby said. Shawn wasn’t home. So he left a message. “I’m in Mrs. Lee’s room, too!”

At the mall Bobby suffered through trying on new shoes. But he came home with the prize—the entry form for the Pet-O-Rama contest.

The next big news came from Shawn. That afternoon, he came over to Bobby’s house with a big smile on his face and something behind his back.

“Did you get my message?” Bobby asked.

“Yep.” He and Bobby high-fived. “And I got something else, too,” said Shawn. He pulled a small wire cage from behind his back.

At first Bobby didn’t see anything in the cage. Then he looked more closely. Huddled under a pile of shredded newspapers was a small, furry body with a long, long tail. “A mouse?” Bobby asked.

“Yep,” said a pleased Shawn. “A mouse.”

Bobby was surprised. They had looked at lots of animals at Pet-O-Rama, but no mice.

Shawn laughed. “I know. I didn’t think I was going to get a mouse, either. But when I went back to Pet-O-Rama, I saw a glass cage with a couple of mice in it. I knocked on it, and this guy came right to me. It was like he was saying, ‘Take me home.’ So I did.”

“He’s white,” Bobby said. He thought mice were brown.

“Yep, a white mouse with a pink nose and a pink tail.”

“And tiny paws,” Bobby said. “What’s his name?”

“Twitch. Because of the way he twitches his whiskers,” Shawn replied.

Bobby put his finger up to the wire cage. Sure enough, the little white mouse twitched his long whiskers before giving Bobby a sniff.

Last autumn several mice had made a home under the kitchen sink. One day, Mrs. Quinn opened the door, and four brown mice came running out. Bobby’s mother had let out a shriek that could compete with one of Lucy’s howls. She wouldn’t go back in the kitchen until Bobby’s father swore he had
caught them all in a shoe box. Mr. Quinn had let them go in the empty lot down the street.

“Twitch is kind of cute,” Bobby admitted.

“Mice are great,” Shawn told him. “Think of all the great mice in history. There’s Mickey Mouse, Mighty Mouse, the Mouse and the Motorcycle.”

Bobby was catching some of Shawn’s excitement. “Maybe we could buy Twitch a toy motorcycle.”

“Or build him a house. A mouse house,” Shawn said.

Bobby was glad he had a dog for a pet, but playing with a mouse might be fun, too.

Just then, the last bit of news came in with a bang. Candy came bursting in the door. Her dog, Butch, was right on her heels.

“Hey, did you hear? I’m in Mrs. Lee’s room, too!” she said.

Bobby was about to say, “Cool,” but Candy plowed on. “At first I was mad when
my mom told us we were moving, even though it was just a couple of blocks away. ‘Cause I had to change schools and go to Wildwood. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like Wildwood. No friends. But now I know you guys, and you’re my friends, right? And it turns out I’m going to be in your room, which is good. Mrs. Lee is nice, right?”

“Right,” Shawn said quickly before Candy could get started again.

Lucy bounded up from the basement, where she had followed a ball that had bounced down the stairs. She didn’t notice Twitch, but when she saw Butch she gave a sharp bark. Butch barked right back. Lucy offered up a howl.

Shawn put Twitch’s cage on the patio table. Candy stuck her face close to the cage. “A mouse, huh?”

“His name is Twitch,” Shawn told her.

“Twitch, that’s cute. ‘Cause of the whiskers, I bet,” Candy said. “I’m not much for rodents. Mice are rodents, you know. So are rats, and hamsters, and guinea pigs—”

“Yeah, they are,” Bobby agreed. He hoped Candy didn’t know any more rodents.

“And gerbils. Gerbils are rodents, too. Maybe chinchillas. I’m not sure,” Candy told the boys. “Well, I’ve never been a big fan of rodents. But Twitch might change my mind. White’s a nice color, for a mouse, and that little pink nose—”

Shawn interrupted Candy. “Twitch is so fine, I’m going to enter him in a contest.”

“What contest?” Candy asked.

“It’s a contest they’re having at Pet-O-Rama,” Shawn explained.

“The spokespet contest?” Bobby asked.

Candy looked confused. “A spokespet? Is that even a word? What’s a spokespet?”

Bobby laughed. It was a funny word. A funny idea, too, he guessed. “Well, you’ve heard of a spokesperson?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Candy answered. “Like when a company has a movie star or somebody famous do their commercials.”

“Right,” Bobby said. “Well, Pet-O-Rama doesn’t want a person in their commercials. They want a pet.”

“Uh, news flash. Pets can’t talk,” Candy said.

Bobby pulled the contest entry form from his pocket. “ ‘The winning pet from this store will move on to the regional contest,’ ” he read. “ ‘The winner of that contest will be featured in print and television ads.’ ” Bobby looked up. “See, the winner doesn’t have to
talk. She just has to look good for the cameras.”