Princess (5 page)

All dogs deserve to be treated with love and caring. Are you spoiling your dog if you give him special treats, or let her sleep on the bed with you? Not necessarily. The important thing is that your dog has good manners and is a well-behaved member of the family.

But sometimes spoiled dogs — like Princess — can make life miserable for everyone. They might bark or whine when they don’t get their way, destroy things that are important to you, or run off when you are trying to call them.

If your dog acts spoiled, you might need some help from a good animal trainer. She won’t train your dog — she’ll train
you!
With help, you can learn how to help your dog be the best, happiest dog he or she can be.

Dear Reader,

Have you ever known a dog that was spoiled? I have friends who treat their dogs really, really well. Some people cook for their dogs — every day! Other people send their dogs to camp, give them fancy birthday parties, get them massages, or constantly buy them treats and toys. I don’t believe any of these dogs are really spoiled — but they sure are happy.

Everybody loves their dogs! What’s the funniest thing you ever heard of someone doing for their dog?

Yours from the Puppy Place,

Ellen Miles

Preview

THE
PUPPY PLACE

Have you read all the Puppy Place books?

Make sure you find out how it began!

Check out
:

Charles woke up with a bad feeling in his stomach. Why? For a minute, he couldn’t figure it out. Then he rolled over and looked at his clock. It was 3:46
A.M.
, and Charles could hear the loud “deedle-deedle-dee” of his dad’s pager going off. Mr. Peterson was a volunteer fireman. When his pager went off, there was a fire somewhere in town.

Charles listened to his dad’s footsteps going downstairs. Then he heard the slam of a truck door and an engine starting up. He lay there for a while, worrying a little. He decided to stay awake until his dad came home.

But he must have fallen asleep, because when he woke up again, the sun was shining and his clock said it was 7:16. Charles rubbed his eyes and climbed out of bed. Then he raced down to the kitchen and looked out the window.

Dad’s red pickup was not in the driveway.

Mom was making French toast while the Bean—Charles’s little brother—crawled around on the floor by her feet. The smell of cinnamon made Charles’s mouth water. “Is Dad —” Charles began.

“Dad’s fine,” Mom said. “He called a little while ago. There was a big fire, but everyone is okay.”

Charles let out a big breath. It was cool to have a fireman dad, but scary sometimes, too.

“He’ll be home soon,” Mom told Charles.

“Where was the fire?” asked Lizzie, scuffing her slippers as she shuffled into the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Lizzie was Charles’s older sister. It always took her a long time to wake up.

“Out at a farm in Middletown,” Mom said.

At this, Lizzie’s eyes popped open. “Were any animals hurt?” she asked.

Mom shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She flipped a slice of French toast. “Set the table, okay?” Mom asked.

That
proved
that everything was okay. What could be more normal than doing chores?

Since there was no reason to worry, Charles decided to ask his favorite question, the one he asked every single morning.

“So
why
can’t we have a dog?” he asked.

His mother sighed. “Again?” She pulled the orange juice out of the fridge and filled four glasses and the Bean’s purple sippy cup. “Do we have to talk about this every day?”

“Only until we get a dog,” Lizzie said, with a sleepy smile.

“First you said we couldn’t have a dog because our apartment was too small,” Charles reminded his mom. “Then we moved to this big old house, and now there is plenty of room.” He followed Lizzie around the table, putting a fork onto every napkin she laid down. “But instead of adopting a dog, we adopted the Bean.”

Charles looked down at the Bean. Sometimes Charles could hardly remember the Bean’s real name. It was Adam. But they had called him the Bean ever since he came to live with them when he was a tiny squirmy baby. “Just a little bean,” Mr. Peterson had said, and the name had stuck.

The Bean grinned up at Charles and made a little woofing noise. “Even though he
thinks
he’s a dog, he’s not,” Charles pointed out. “He’s just a kid who likes to crawl around on the floor, beg for food, and sleep on a fleece dog bed.”

“And carry his stuffed toys in his mouth,” Lizzie added.

“It’s a phase,” their mom said, the way she always did. “He’ll get over it by the time he’s —”

“Seventeen,” Charles finished, the way their dad always did. It was their dad’s favorite joke. Their mom didn’t think it was so funny.

“Anyway,” Charles continued, “back then you said a baby and a dog were too much at once. You said we had to wait until the Bean was older. Well, now he
is.
He’s two and a half! He’s not a baby anymore.”

“No, he’s not,” agreed his mother, a little sadly. She loved babies. And kittens. Just not puppies. Mr. Peterson always joked about his wife being a cat person, not a dog person. Mrs. Peterson always said she didn’t see anything wrong with that. She had grown up with cats and she was used to cats. But the other family members were not interested in cats. The rest of the family loved dogs.

“So, why can’t we get a puppy?” Charles and Lizzie asked together.

“Jinx,” Charles said to Lizzie. “Owe me a favor. You clear the table after we eat.”

Lizzie stuck out her tongue. Charles grinned. He
always
said “jinx” first.

“We
will
have a puppy,” their mother said. “Someday. When the time is right, and the puppy is right.”

“But when will that be?” Charles asked. “When
I’m
seventeen?” Sometimes he felt as if he’d waited
forever
for a dog. It wasn’t fair. Everybody
else
had dogs. And nobody wanted one more than Charles and Lizzie and the Bean. Nobody would take better care of a dog, or teach it as many great tricks, or love it as much as they would.

“We’ll know,” Mom said. “When the time is right, we’ll know.” She had that tone in her voice, the tone that meant it was time to change the subject.

But Lizzie didn’t seem to notice. “If we had a dog, we’d all feel better,” she said. “Did you know that dog owners are happier, healthier, and more relaxed than people who don’t have dogs? Plus, having a dog teaches kids responsibility. And a dog can help to protect the house and save people from fires.”

Mom held up both hands. “Enough!” she cried. “I’ve heard all your facts before, Lizzie, and I know they’re all true. I also know that puppies are a lot of work and cause a lot of mess and trouble.” She turned back to the skillet on the stove.

Charles knew what she was thinking. Dogs shed fur all over the place. They chew things. They knock over garbage cans. They bark. There were lots of reasons for not getting a dog. Mom didn’t even have to spell it out anymore.

Charles had only taken one bite of his breakfast when he heard his dad’s pickup pull into the driveway. A minute later, Dad trudged into the kitchen. His shoulders were slumped, his face was smudged with soot, and his hair was all flattened from being under his helmet.

“Dad!” cried Lizzie, jumping up to hug him.

“Hey, punkin,” he said tiredly.

Charles noticed a big bulge underneath his dad’s jacket. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing.

Then he noticed that the bulge was moving.

Charles came closer. The bulge was squiggling and squirming all over the place.

Dad smiled and pulled the zipper of his coat down a few inches.

“Meet Goldie,” he said. Charles saw two chocolate-brown eyes, a pair of floppy ears, a twitching black nose, and a furry, golden face all streaked with soot.

“A puppy!” Charles yelled.

Ellen Miles is crazy about dogs, and loves to write about their different personalities. She is the author of more than 28 books, including The Puppy Place and Taylor-Made Tales series as well as
The Pied Piper
and other Scholastic Classics. Ellen loves to be outdoors every day, walking, biking, skiing, or swimming, depending on the season. She also loves to read, cook, explore her beautiful state, and hang out with friends and family. She lives in Vermont.

If you love animals, be sure to read all the adorable stories in The Puppy Place series!

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

Copyright © 2008 by Ellen Miles.
Cover art by Tim O’Brien
Cover design by Steve Scott

All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, LITTLE APPLE, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

First printing, March 2008

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

e-ISBN: 978-0-545-32437-3