The Boy Who Ate Dog Biscuits (5 page)

“Wait up.” Howard hurried after him.

Billy stopped and turned around. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to be with Howard.

“Where you going?”

“Dr. Mike’s.”

“Can I come?”

“I guess,” said Billy.

They took the route through the woods and came out on a busy street corner. They crossed with the lights.

“So what’s been going on?” Howard pushed his sunglasses up on his nose.

“Nothing.”

“Well, I went to the fair. They had great bumper-car rides. Made you sick as a dog.”

Billy didn’t say anything. He was thinking. Grandpa Stewie had said he had to speak up sometimes.

Billy stopped down the street from Dr. Mike’s. He faced Howard. “Some friend you are.”

“What are you talking about?” Howard took off his sunglasses and rubbed sweat off his nose.

“I got in trouble ’cause of you.”

“What’d I do?”

“You said the garage-door opener was my idea. It wasn’t. And you know it.”

“I couldn’t help it. My mother was yelling at me really a lot.”

“Well, I lost my allowance on account of you.”

“How come?”

“
Because
I have to help pay to fix your dumb door.”

“What door?”

“The garage door, stupid head!”

“Well, it’s not broken.”

“What?”

“I came over to tell you. My father fixed it.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Howard shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, well, I still got in trouble because of you.”

Howard looked at the ground. He scratched the scab on his knee. “I’m sorry you got in trouble.”

“Oh,” Billy said quietly. Howard had never done that before.

Howard didn’t look at Billy. “My parents make a big deal out of my telling lies. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“But I’m your best friend.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” said Billy.

Howard looked up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Billy didn’t know what to say after that, but he felt better. When they got to Dr. Mike’s, he opened the gate. “Come on,” he said. “I want to show you a neat dog.” They raced over the field together.

The dogs were under the trees, hiding from
the late-afternoon sun. All of the different tails began to wag and thump as Billy and Howard came closer.

Billy dug out a couple of biscuits from his pocket and picked off the lint. He fed the pups and patted Lola. “I don’t see him,” Billy said. “Let’s go inside. Dr. Mike must have him.”

“Who?” Howard said, scratching the brown poodle’s head.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

But when they got to the back door, it was locked. They went to the front.

“They’re closed Saturday afternoons,” Howard said. He pointed to the sign in the window.

Billy pressed his face against the glass door. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t see anything. He had a terrible feeling.

“Come on,” Howard said. “Let’s go. We can come back.”

“No. I have to check something.”

“What?”

“I have to see if my dog is there.”

“You got a dog?”

“It was one of the strays. I wanted him.”

“Oh,” said Howard. He followed Billy around to the side of the building.

Howard let Billy stand on his shoulders. That way Billy could climb up on top of the toolshed. From there he looked into the room with the dog cages. The white dog wasn’t there. “I can’t believe it. Someone came for him.”

Billy sat down on the roof of the shed. He wanted to cry. Over and over he said, “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it.”

“Come on,” Howard said after a while. “I’ll walk you home.”

10
  

The kitchen was crowded when Billy got back home. His mother stood in front of the stove, frying chicken for dinner. Billy’s father was taking ears of corn out of a steaming pot. Grandpa Stewie was putting place mats on the table. Nana kept trying to get mashed carrot into Sarah’s mouth. Sarah only wanted to blow orange bubbles.

“Hi, Billy,” said his mother. “You’re just in time. Go wash up.”

Billy didn’t say anything. He just stood in the doorway.

“What’s wrong, darling?” asked his grandmother.

Billy’s voice shook. “Someone took my dog.”

Suddenly there was silence in the kitchen. Everyone looked at him.

“What dog?” Mrs. Getten asked.

“There was this dog—” Billy stopped talking because tears stung his eyes. “I really liked him a lot.”

“The white one.” Grandpa Stewie put a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “I was telling your parents about him.”

Billy nodded.

Everyone was very quiet. No one seemed to know what to say.

Finally Grandpa put his arms around Billy and gave him a hug. “I think you should go wash up. Then we’ll talk.”

Billy made his way down the hall. Behind him he could hear his parents and grandparents speaking in whispers. He knew they were talking about him.

In the bathroom Billy sat on the edge of the tub. He rested his head on the sink. It felt cool against his face. Outside a car door slammed. A dog barked. Little kids yelled to
one another. In the kitchen his parents were talking. Billy didn’t want to move, he felt so sad.

“Billy,” his mother called. “Food’s getting cold.”

Billy washed and dried his hands. He rubbed the tear stains off his face with a towel.

Everyone stopped talking when Billy came back into the kitchen. He sat down at the table.

“Grandpa told us about you feeding Sarah, Billy.” His mother put an ear of corn on his plate.

Grandpa Stewie winked. “Yup. He saved the day.”

“I’m really glad,” his father said.

“Thanks,” Billy said.

“And not only that,” said Grandpa Stewie. “Dr. Mike told me Billy doesn’t just teach her dogs tricks. He really helps her out over there.”

“Good boy.” Nana patted Billy’s arm.

Billy just nodded. Nothing they said helped him feel better.

All of a sudden there was a loud bark. Everyone looked up.

“I guess we’re not even going to get through dinner,” his mother said.

There was another bark. Billy heard scratching on the basement door.

“There’s one surprise that’s busting its breeches.” Mr. Getten smiled at Billy.

Billy stood up. He almost knocked his chair over.

“Go on,” said Grandpa Stewie. “It’s what you think.”

Billy yanked open the basement door. “Oh, wow!”

The white dog leaped out. He jumped so high that his paws reached Billy’s chest.

“Surprise! Happy birthday!” everyone shouted.

“But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow!” Billy let the dog lick his face.

“There was no way we could have kept him quiet until tomorrow,” Nana said.

Billy hugged and hugged the dog. “Thanks!”

They all moved away from the table and
stood around Billy. His father held Sarah so she could see.

“He’s a beauty,” said Nana.

“When did you get him?” asked Billy.

“This afternoon. When we were supposed to be at the mall.”

“It’s a good thing we didn’t run into you at Dr. Mike’s,” his father said.

“Can I call Howard and tell him?”

“Sure,” said his mother. “But wait until after dinner.”

There were footsteps on the back porch. Then Dr. Mike opened the screen door. She held a sack of dog treats in her arms. “Hello! Did I miss the surprise?”

“No. You’re just in time,” said Grandpa Stewie.

“We were starting dinner, but the dog couldn’t keep still,” Billy’s father said. He put Sarah back in her high chair.

“Sit down,” said Mrs. Getten. “Let me introduce you to my parents.”

“I’ve already met Grandpa Stewie.” Dr. Mike smiled.

The family and Dr. Mike started dinner again. The dog settled down underneath Billy’s chair.

Billy took a second piece of corn. Dishes
were passed around. The silverware clattered.

“What are you going to call him?” Dr. Mike asked.

“I don’t know.” Billy leaned over and slipped the dog a biscuit.

All of a sudden a little voice said, “Stew-ee.”

“Did you hear that?” Billy’s mother looked at the baby. “She said a real word.”

“My name! I’m honored.” Grandpa Stewie chuckled.

“Sarah,” her father said. “Say, ‘Daddy.’ ” He pointed to himself.

Sarah looked at her father. Then she leaned over the side of her high chair. She pointed to Billy’s dog. “Stew-ee. Stew-ee,” she said.

Billy looked at his sister and then at his dog. “You know what? I think Sarah just gave him a great name. Good Sarah!” Billy laughed. Then he slipped her a dog biscuit too.

When she was growing up,
BETSY SACHS
and her brother did pray for a dog but got a baby sister instead. They also had a cousin who ate dog biscuits. About
The Boy Who Ate Dog Biscuits
, Betsy Sachs says, “All I had to do was put the pieces together and I had a story.” She lives in Waterbury, Connecticut.

MARGOT APPLE
has illustrated dozens of books for children, including
Sheep in a Jeep
, her most recent picture book. She lives with her husband in the country outside Ashfield, Massachusetts, where she is always taking in stray cats. She now has five.