Boys Are Dogs Read Free

“But when we visited the shelter two days ago your mother fell in love with this guy.”
    “I just couldn’t leave without him. And I wanted to surprise you, too,” Mom added.
    Not only was I surprised . . . I was also surprised about being surprised. And guess what? It turns out I don’t like surprises. Not even cute, fluffy ones.
    “You can name him,” said Dweeble. “We’ve been calling him Stripe, but that’s just temporary.”
    “Stripe?” I asked.
    “Because he has spots.”
    I said nothing. Dweeble’s smile faded ever so slightly.
    “It’s supposed to be funny,” he said.
    If there were an award for the worst sense of humor ever, Dweeble would win first prize. I looked to my mom for help. She patted my shoulder. “You don’t have to name him yet. Just think about it.”
    The dog sniffed at the floor.
    Mom crouched down and scratched him behind his ears. “You have to admit he is adorable.”
    As I looked down at the cute, bouncy ball of fur, my heart went all melty. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s just, well, puppies have that effect on me. Still, I struggled to hold my ground. It wouldn’t be fair, making it that easy for Mom and Dweeble. Yes, they got me a puppy with floppy ears, and a shiny black nose, and a bright pink tongue, and soft fur that I ached to stroke. But that didn’t make everything okay. What about my friends? And school? What about my whole life?
    Mom stood up. The puppy begged for more attention but I refused to give in. And he must have gotten the idea, because the next thing I knew, he turned around and trotted out of the room.
    “Where’s he going?” Dweeble asked.
    “Don’t know.” I patted the pockets on my cutoffs. “He gave me a map but I must have misplaced it.”
    “Very funny,” Mom said, as the three of us followed the puppy down the hall.
    He moved fast, turning left into the den. We were right on his tail. Well, not literally on his tail, but really close.
    Dweeble crouched down and patted his knees. “Come on, little guy. You don’t want to stay in here. This room is a mess.”
    Only Dweeble would try to reason with a dog like he was a person.
    Not that Stripe paid him any attention. I was starting to like this little puppy.
    “We haven’t unpacked in here, yet,” my mom explained.
    Stripe sniffed at a stack of boxes, then made his way over to a fancy-looking rug with a three-legged table on top. He sniffed the table and then tilted his nose up to sniff the large, leafy plant sitting on its edge.
    “Careful!” cried Dweeble. I guess he was scared Stripe would knock over the table. But Stripe didn’t. Dweeble did when he lunged forward to shoo Stripe out of the way.
    As the table toppled the plant crashed to the floor. The clay pot split open and dirt spilled everywhere.
    Startled by the noise, the puppy yelped and ran around in circles. Then he crouched down and peed.
    “Not on the Persian rug!” Dweeble cried.
    Like Stripe cared where the rug came from.
    Mom cringed and covered her eyes.
    I covered my mouth with both hands so they wouldn’t see me laughing.
    Stripe headed out of the room, leaving Dweeble and my mom with the mess. I ran after him, following him all the way to the sliding glass door at the back of the house.
    He gazed out at the yard, then looked up at me. “You have opposable thumbs,” he seemed to be telling me. “So what are you waiting for?”
    We both headed outside. The puppy sniffed the new tomato plants, while I checked out the rest of the yard. The entire space was enclosed within a wall of tan concrete bricks, stacked high over my head. I couldn’t see the other backyards but I figured they all looked the same—mostly lawn with a small, cemented area by the door.
    I sat down on the grass and leaned against the wall. Stripe took this as an invitation to come over and sniff me. Pretty soon he plopped down at my side. Since no one could see me, I stroked his coat. It felt so soft and silky I used both