Puppy Love (6 page)

“No!” I blurted out. “We can't—he'll see us!”

“No, he won't. He's totally distracted.” Robert took a step out into the open, straightening the lapels on his jacket. He wasn't exactly inconspicuous in that leisure suit; one of the handlers in the ring was already glancing at him.

“Get back here!” I hissed as loudly as I dared. “Seriously, Robert. If you embarrass me right now, I swear I . . .”

My voice trailed off. I couldn't think of a threat dire enough. Besides, Robert wasn't listening. He was strolling closer to the ring, hands in his polyester pockets, pretending to be very interested in the freestanding display of collars and leashes near the entrance.

I held my breath as Adam glanced toward Robert. Robert smiled and nodded, then busied himself with the leashes. Adam returned his attention to his students, and I let out the breath. At least Robert hadn't said anything to him. Yet.

All this time, Muckle had been busy scratching a particularly itchy spot on the side of his head. Growing bored with that, he stood up, shook himself from head to toe, and trotted past me toward the training ring.

“Muckle, no,” I whispered urgently, tugging on the leash.

Muckle completely ignored me. He'd just spotted the dogs
in the ring. His ears went up, his tail wagged, and his entire body quivered.

I winced as he leaped forward, barking at the top of his lungs. Disaster! Darting after him, I grabbed my puppy and hustled back into the shelter of the aisle before Adam could turn around. He might not recognize me in my crazy disguise and sunglasses, but I was sure he'd recognize Muckle as soon as he laid eyes on him.

Robert dashed over to join us. “Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!” he said.

I had no idea who Will Robinson was, and I didn't care. “We have to get out of here!” I exclaimed.

Hugging Muckle to my chest, I took off down the aisle. My polyester dress f lapped around my legs, which gave me the giggles.

“What's so funny?” Robert panted, catching up with me.

“Everything!” I replied, still giggling like a loon.

That made Robert laugh too. “Hurry! If he caught a glimpse of you in that dress, he'll be in hot pursuit,” he cried, putting on a goofy accent like someone from an old black-and-white film where they all talk funny.

“No way! We can lose him if we—oof!” I'd just rounded the corner of the aisle and crashed into someone looking at a display of dog toys. “Sorry!” I cried, backing off. Then I gasped as I realized who I'd just almost bowled over. “Jamal! Um, hi.”

Jamal stared at me for a second, looking confused. Ozzy, who had been sitting at his feet, jumped up and barked happily. Then Jamal's expression cleared.

“Lauren?” he said. “Is that you?” He looked me up and down, and this time it wasn't so much a checking-me-out kind of look as a what-the-heck-is-she-wearing kind of look. “Uh, nice dress.”

“Thanks.” My face flamed, and I glanced over at Robert, who had stopped next to me. “We're just, you know, goofing around.”

Jamal looked at Robert too, and his face fell. “Oh,” he said. “Hi. I'm Jamal Hughes—Lauren and I are in the same puppy class.”

“Robert James Chase, at your service.” Robert swept into a dramatic bow. “And I'm so glad you appreciate Lauren's frock. I'm her personal shopper, and I had to twist her arm to get her to wear it. She looks hot in it, no?”

Jamal blinked, looking confused again for a second. He glanced from Robert—and his outfit—over to me, and back again. His face cleared, and he smiled.

“Really great to meet you, Robert,” he said. “And yeah, Lauren looks awesome. Do you do all her shopping for her?”

“No, he doesn't.” I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush at the compliment. “Robert just likes to try to bully me into making a fool of myself in public as often as possible.”

Robert grinned. “Guilty as charged. But don't let her fool you, Jamal. She loves it just as much as I do. She's a closet extrovert.”

“A closet extrovert? Isn't that, like, a contradiction in terms or something?” Jamal asked.

“Maybe.” Robert shrugged. “Anyway, what do you think of
today's ensemble?” He pronounced the last word the French way, twirling around to give Jamal a better look at his leisure suit.

“You don't have to answer that,” I told Jamal, glad that he didn't seem too freaked out by any of this. Robert tended to frighten some jock types. “Like I said, we're just goofing around. We call it the Disguise Game.”

“The what?”

“The Disguise Game.” Robert stopped twirling and told him all about it, with me joining in on some of the details. Jamal seemed amused by the whole thing.

While we were chatting, the two puppies were getting reacquainted as well. Ozzy was mostly sniffing Muckle's rear, while Muckle wiggled happily and tried to circle around to get a few sniffs in too.

“So I guess you're probably wondering why Ozzy and I are hanging around here when there's no puppy K today, huh?” Jamal said, glancing down at the dogs.

Actually, the question hadn't even occurred to me. But I nodded.

“It's the Oz man.” Jamal grimaced. “He's not really catching on to the whole housebreaking thing. Seems to think the carpeting in the upstairs hallway is the perfect place to do his business. My mom and stepdad are running out of patience.”

“No way!” I felt a weird rush of relief. “So Muck and I aren't the only ones with that problem, huh? If he pees on Mom's favorite rug one more time, she's probably going to have a stroke.”

“You're definitely not the only ones.” Jamal sighed. “It's a good thing Rachel told me about the puppy class. Because this is pretty much the last chance for Ozzy.”

“Muckle too,” I admitted. “My parents were already losing patience, but last Tuesday was the final straw. . . .”

Chapter
Six

L
auren! Is that you? Get
in here!”

I swung the front door shut and glanced at Robert. “Uh-oh. Mom doesn't sound happy.”

Somewhere in the house, I could hear Muckle barking. And barking. And then barking some more.

“Should we make a break for it?” Robert suggested.

I slung my school bag onto the mahogany bench in the front hall. “I'd better go see what Muckle did this time.”

It was becoming a familiar scene. Muckle would do something naughty. Mom and/or Dad would yell at me. I would promise to keep a closer eye on him. Rinse, repeat.

As we headed toward the kitchen, Mom hurried out to meet us, her Chanel heels click-clacking on the hardwood hallway floor.

“That dog of yours.” She jabbed a manicured finger at me. “It's driving me crazy!”

“What happened?” I was still distracted by Muckle's continued barking. He always barked a lot, but this was nonstop.

“The Van Tuyls are having their house painted.” Mom paused to wince as Muckle let out a particularly piercing howl.

I nodded. I'd noticed the painters hard at work on the neighbors' house on my way in. “So?” I prompted.

“So what do you think?” She folded her arms and glared at me. “That ridiculous dog has been barking out the window at the painters all day.”

“Oh.” That did sound annoying. “Did you try distracting him with one of his bones or something?”

“No, I did not.” Mom was sounding more annoyed by the second. “I'm not your dog's babysitter, Lauren. When we agreed you could get a puppy, you swore it would be no trouble at all. But it's not turning out that way.”

I wondered why she hadn't just gone out to lunch or something to get away from the barking, if it bothered her that much. But I didn't quite dare ask. Not when she was in that kind of mood.

“In any case, this has really set me back,” Mom went on grimly. “I was supposed to spend the day making phone calls for my charity banquet. But obviously I couldn't call people with that racket going on in the background. I didn't get a thing done all day, and now I'm way behind.”

“Sorry,” I said meekly.

“Me too.” Mom was still glaring. “You need to deal with this, Lauren—make sure it never happens again. Otherwise, the dog will have to go.”

“What?” I squawked. “No! What do you mean?”

“I mean I can't live like this.” Mom rubbed her temples. “We're already making sacrifices so you can have a dog as it is.”

With great effort, I avoided rolling my eyes. I knew what she was talking about—Britt. Now that Muckle was living in our house, that meant Britt couldn't live there anymore. Whenever she came home from college for vacations and such, she would have to stay in the guest suite over the garage and minimize her time in the main house.

“I know,” I said. “But Muckle's part of the family now! I can't give up on him. Especially after waiting my whole life to get him!”

“Your father's not thrilled with the situation either, you know,” Mom went on as if she hadn't even heard what I'd just said. “The puppy chewed up his favorite slippers last week, and before that it dug up all the bulbs he'd just planted.”

“I know. And I'm sorry—I offered to pay for the slippers as soon as I get enough money, okay?” I winced at the thought. Dad had expensive taste in slippers. “Anyway, I'll take Muckle out for a walk right now, okay?”

“Fine.” Mom still sounded worked up. “But we're going to continue this conversation later, Lauren. We can't go on like this.”

“Okay.” Hurrying past her, I followed the sound of Muckle's yips and found him in the bay window in the dining room. He was
standing with his front paws on the glass, staring out the window with his tail wagging in time with each bark.

“Wow, he's got some serious lung power for such a small dog,” Robert commented, leaning against the door frame.

I grabbed Muckle, which actually shut him up for a moment. He wiggled in my arms, his warm little tongue washing my chin eagerly. Despite the serious situation, I couldn't help smiling and hugging him.

“Come on, Muckster,” I said. “We've got to get you out of Mom's sight for a while, or you're going to drive her over the edge.” I glanced at Robert. “Can we go to your place?”

“Sure, I guess.” Robert jingled his car keys. “Let's jet.”

Robert's family lived a couple of miles from mine in a much fancier neighborhood. His house was easily twice the size of mine. It had a huge, manicured lawn with an iron fence around it. I let Muckle loose to run around out there, and soon he was happily rolling in the grass and leaping at butterflies.

Robert and I leaned against the front porch railing to watch. “What am I going to do?” I moaned.

“What do you mean?” Robert asked.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean about Muckle!” I sighed loudly. “You heard Mom. She's totally fed up. And my dad's not much happier, what with the slippers and the flower bulbs and everything.”

Robert patted my arm. “Don't stress about that. I'll pick him up a new pair of slippers next time we hit the mall. He likes the leather open-back kind, right?”

“Right. Thanks,” I said. “But that's not really the point. I don't want them to kick Muckle out of the family, but if he doesn't start behaving better . . .”

“Oh.” Robert didn't look particularly concerned. “Well, maybe they're right. Having a puppy does seem like kind of a hassle. We're always having to rush right home from school so you can walk him, and I can't even remember the last time we went to the movies.”

I barely heard his complaints, which he'd made many times before. I was distracted by watching Muckle frolic in the sunshine, nipping playfully at a blowing leaf. My eyes filled with tears at the thought of losing him. He'd only been mine for a few weeks, but I already couldn't imagine life without him.

Robert glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “Hey,” he said. “You're actually upset about this, aren't you?”

“Of course.” I swiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I mean, just look at him! He doesn't even know what might happen.”

Robert regarded Muckle dubiously. Then he shrugged.

“Fine,” he said. “If it's important to you, it's important to me. So let's figure out how to deal with this.”

I brightened slightly. When Robert set his mind to something, he usually accomplished it.

“Really?” I said. “You'll help me?”

“What are best friends for?” He slung an arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick hug. Then he headed for the door,
all business. “Okay, grab the mutt and come inside. We need to do some research.”

Soon we were in his massive bedroom, which his parents' decorator had decked out in tasteful shades of beige and taupe. That had been way too boring for Robert, of course, but he'd livened things up with multiple Skerrabra posters on the walls, along with various cheesy vintage afghans, pillows, and even a genuine lava lamp. I sat down on the rug and started tossing a rubber bone to keep Muckle occupied, while Robert grabbed his laptop and flopped onto the four-poster bed.