The Misadventures of the Magician's Dog Read Free Page A

explosion of barking immediately filled the office. He had been wrong, Peter thought; eerie silence was better than noise. “Let me know when you find one you like,” Timothy continued. “And if you don’t want your cords chewed on . . . maybe not Rusty.”
    Celia and Izzy didn’t need a second invitation. They were off like shots. Peter, his heart thumping unpleasantly, lingered by his mother’s side.
    â€œGo on, honey,” she said. “I’m going to get the paperwork started.”
    He had no choice. He walked through the door.
    The long room he entered was filled with dogs. Everywhere Peter looked, he saw dark eyes, staring at him expectantly. The air smelled of urine and wet fur, and the open-topped steel cages offered little reassurance.
    â€œThis one is so cute! Peter, you have to see her!” exclaimed Celia.
    Peter thought about Izzy’s dreamy voice that morning as she drifted off to sleep, how happy she’d sounded talking about a dog. If there was one person in the world he wanted to be happy, it was Izzy—Izzy, who had always been small and quiet but had somehow gotten smaller and quieter in the eight weeks since their father had left. Peter and Celia at least remembered their father’s other deployments, but Izzy had been only three when he’d come back the last time. When their father had met them at the airport that day, he’d ruffled Peter’s hair, pressed Celia to his chest, then swung Izzy high into the air before clutching her against him. “Now I’m back for good,” he’d said, and Peter could have sworn he’d seen tears in his father’s eyes—his father, who never cried. Remembering those tears somehow made Peter feel braver now, and he straightened his back and walked over to where Celia knelt in front of a cage. There was nothing to do but choose a dog fast and get out.
    â€œHer name is Beauty,” Celia said. “That’s what it says on her cage, anyway. Isn’t she just perfect?”
    â€œUmm . . . Sure,” said Peter, looking at the glossy black dog, who was sniffing at Celia’s hand. Just standing this close made Peter sweat—or maybe it was the lack of air-conditioning. “I guess.”
    â€œWill you choose her?”
    Just then Beauty glanced up at him and
woofed
. Peter jumped backward.
    â€œLet me look around a bit more,” he said.
    The next cage over held three orangeish-red puppies. They scrambled rambunctiously at the sight of Peter, climbing over and under each other in an attempt to reach him. No. The cage after that held a sleeping yellow dog. Peter appreciated the fact that the dog was sleeping, but he was also too large. The terrier in the next cage growled at Peter.
    In the next cage, he found Izzy. She was sitting on the floor between a ratty towel and a half-chewed dog treat. A small brown dog was limp in her lap. The sign outside the cage said TEDDY .
    â€œIsn’t he cute?” she breathed.
    â€œHow did you get in there?” Peter asked, struggling to keep his voice calm. He didn’t want to startle the dog.
    Izzy frowned. “I couldn’t open the door. I had to climb.”
    â€œI think they lock the cages on purpose. So the dogs stay in and the people stay out.”
    â€œOh. Do you think I need to get out now?”
    â€œI really think you should. You never know if a dog might bite.”
    Izzy looked down at the dog sprawled over her, his eyes half closed and his breath rattling out in a soft snore. “He’s nice. He won’t bite me.” Still, Izzy gently placed Teddy on the ratty towel, then pulled herself up the side of the cage. Peter caught her as she came down.He squeezed her harder than he should have, half in relief and half in frustration.
    â€œPlease don’t go in any more cages,” he said.
    â€œWill you adopt him?” Izzy asked. “I think he’d be a