Rocky Read Free Page B

Rocky’s leash. He needed a walk, too, and Lizzie had figured that Ginger was just about Rocky’s speed. Usually it took the whole twenty-minute walk just to get Ginger around the block. You spent half of that time pulling on her leash and begging her to keep moving. Some days, once you got her a certain distance away from her house, she would stop trying to plod back home and might even become interested in trying out a new block, in a new direction.
    Today was not one of those days. “I knew Ginger was a slowpoke, but this is ridiculous,” Lizzie said to Maria.
    “Well, Rocky’s not helping any,” Maria said. “In fact, I think there may have to be a new entry in the Guinness book under ‘World’s Pokiest Dog.’” She gave a gentle tug on Ginger’s leash and rolled her eyes when the basset mix tugged back, standing her ground. “At least Ginger has an excuse. She’s old. But Rocky’s a puppy.”
    Each dog sniffled and snuffled at a different side of a big bush at the end of someone’s driveway. Rocky’s big brown eyes were bright in his flat, wrinkled face as he snorted. He pawed at the bush.
    “Rocky,” Lizzie said, giving his leash a little pull, “you’ve been sniffing that bush for about fifteen minutes. Can we go now?” She sighed. “I’ve been trying everything to get him going,” she told Maria. “I’ve never seen such a couch potato. Remember when we fostered Muttley? He was lazy, but at least he usually slept with one eye open so he could look over everyone. Rocky just snores. I don’t think he’d notice if a freight train came roaring through the house.”
    “I guess that’s why he’s not a good watchdog,” said Maria. “Does he ever bark?”
    Lizzie shook her head. “I’ve only heard him bark once, when he found Buddy sleeping in his favorite spot. I thought maybe I could teach him to bark, so Albert Lowell would take him back, but so far that hasn’t worked.”
    “How do you teach a dog to bark?” Maria asked.
    “Good question,” Lizzie said. “I tried to look it up in all my dog training books, but they only had information on how to teach a dog not to bark. So I just figured I would reward him for barking, by giving him a treat when he does it. But since he never barks …”
    “He never gets the treat,” said Maria. “Okay, so watchdog is off the list. I guess you have to figure out what else Rocky might be good at.”
    “You mean, besides that?” Lizzie pointed at Rocky, who had decided to roll over and paddle his paws in the air while he waited for Ginger to finish sniffing. She and Maria cracked up. Rocky opened one eye to glare at them.
    Can’t a puppy get some rest around here?
    He paddled his paws some more. His wrinkled face and flappy jowls looked especially funny upside down. Rocky seemed to like making the girls laugh. He squirmed and grinned at them, blinking lazily.
    “Maybe he could be a clown,” suggested Maria. “Doesn’t Charles’s friend David have a cousin who’s in the circus?”
    Lizzie nodded. “Right,” she said. “Charles thought that guy might adopt Sweetie.” Sweetie was a miniature poodle the Petersons had fostered. She was great at tricks. “But Sweetie was like a little jumping bean. She was full of energy and always up to something. Rocky — well, he has a few crazy spells every day when he acts silly and makes me laugh, but besides that …” She looked down at the bulldog pup, who was sprawled out on the sidewalk like a rug. She shrugged. “I don’t think the circus is in Rocky’s future.”
    “Probably not search and rescue, either,” Maria said with a giggle. Scout, a German shepherd the Petersons had fostered, was already learning how to find lost people and save their lives.
    “Or agility,” said Lizzie. She thought of Flash, a border collie puppy who was quicker than lightning. He was perfect for the sport of agility, where dogs clambered up and over tall A-frames, galloped through tunnels, and flew over