Cocoa Read Free

wave, he jogged off.
    Charles watched him go, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
    A few minutes later, Dad came out of the restaurant. “Let’s go,” he said.
    Cocoa didn’t need any encouragement to jump into Dad’s pickup. She seemed to be happy to do whatever Charles and Dad asked her to do. Charles thought that might be a good sign. Maybe she would be a quick learner. Charles hugged her close as they drove home. His mouth watered as the spicy smells of China Star food filled the cab of the truck.
    Lizzie threw open the door as soon as they pulled into the driveway. “Where is she? Oh, she’s adorable! Come here, Cocoa!”
    Cocoa leapt out of the truck and charged toward Lizzie before Charles could grab her leash. “Oof!” Lizzie gasped as Cocoa jumped up ontoher. She sat down hard on the back steps, laughing as Cocoa licked her face all over.
    “That’s how she says hello,” Charles said. “She’s a big kisser.”
    “She’s pretty big, period,” said Lizzie, throwing her arms around the puppy. “You’re a big, goofy girl, that’s what.”
    “Better make sure she doesn’t knock the Bean over, or jump up on Mom,” warned Dad. “That wouldn’t be a good start.”
    “I’ll take her out in the backyard for a minute and let her run around,” suggested Charles. “Maybe she’ll burn off some energy.”
    Out back, Charles discovered that Cocoa was very good at playing fetch. He threw Buddy’s ratty old tennis ball for her over and over. Cocoa scrambled for the ball, racing after it and catching it on the second or third bounce, every time. Then she dashed back to Charles, grinning around the tennis ball clenched tight in her jaws. She dropped itat his feet, then backed up to wait, eyes shining and tail wagging, until he picked it up and threw it again.
    “Okay,” said Charles, after a while. “I’m starving, and my arm hurts. Time to go in.” Cocoa sat and cocked her head at him.
     
    Now? Just when we were starting to have fun?
     
    Charles laughed. “We’ll play more tomorrow,” he promised. Cocoa galloped up the back porch stairs and followed him inside.
    “Yum,” said Charles when he came into the kitchen. Mom had set all the food out on the table, and it looked great — especially the House Special chow fun, with its wide noodles and mixture of veggies, shrimp, and meat. Cocoa dashed past him, put her muddy paws up on the counter, and grabbed an empty take-out container in her jaws.
    “No!” yelled Mom. “Bad dog.”
    Startled, Cocoa let the container fall from her mouth. She ambled over to the water dish Mom had set out and lapped noisily, splashing water all over the floor. Then she walked around in a circle three times, landed with a thump on the floor, and fell asleep almost instantly.
    “We’re going to have to do some extra puppy-proofing in this house, I can see that,” said Mom, shaking her head. But she was smiling. Cocoa was too cute to be mad at for long.

The House Special chow fun was delicious. Charles loved the big wide noodles and the yummy sauce. Maybe he had finally found his favorite dish.
    Cocoa was still sleeping when the Petersons finished dinner. Quickly, Dad cleared the table while Lizzie and Charles helped Mom to puppy-proof the house. They put away anything a curious dog might lick or eat or chew. They locked the garbage in the garage, and put the dog biscuits up in one of the high cabinets that only Mom and Dad could reach. They closed the bathroom doors so Cocoa wouldn’t get into the soap or the toilet paper, and they tucked their most favorite books into their bookshelves. They didn’t have to do allthis work for every puppy they fostered, or for Buddy, who was very well trained by now. But everybody remembered Jack, the boxer pup they had fostered, who had eaten — well, he’d eaten everything he could get his teeth into, basically. Including one of Lizzie’s most treasured books.
    Cocoa raced around the house when she woke up, sniffing