Edward, page 1
For Rose and Edward
and for Khea, with love
CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
PUPPY TIPS
TEASER
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER STORIES BY ELLEN MILES
COPYRIGHT
“What do you think of these?” Lizzie Peterson held out a pair of pajamas to show her friend Maria. They were covered in blue and green polka dots and had big purple buttons down the front.
Maria raised her eyebrows. “Very cute,” she said. “But I’m not sure they’re exactly—‘you.’”
Lizzie sighed. None of the pajamas in this store were really “her.” “Maybe we should try another store,” she said. She saw Maria raise her eyebrows again. Oh, her best friend knew her so well! Maria knew that another store wouldn’t make any difference. The fact was, Lizzie was not really a pajama person. She liked to wear a T-shirt and boxer shorts to bed, or a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants when it was cold. She had never really understood the whole idea of pajamas. Why did you need special clothes for bed? Why couldn’t you just wear regular clothes?
“You could just wear a T-shirt and some leggings or something,” Maria said.
“Right, and be the only person on Pajamarama Day who’s not in pajamas?” Lizzie asked. “I don’t think so.” Pajamarama was going to be a big deal at Littleton Elementary, where Lizzie and Maria were in fourth grade. Everybody was talking about it already. On the last Friday in September, everybody was going to wear pajamas to school—even the principal, Ms. Guzman, and Mr. Wood, the janitor. Plus, that night the whole fourth grade was going to have a sleepover at school.
Lizzie wasn’t even sure why Pajamarama was a thing. It was bad enough that people had special clothes for sleeping—now they were all going to wear them to school? What was the point? She sighed and put the polka-dot pajamas back on the rack. Maybe she should just wear the one pair of pajamas that she did own, the purple ones with a design of little red dogs. She’d had them for years, so they were pretty worn out and they didn’t fit perfectly anymore, but at least they were “her.” They had dogs on them, and Lizzie was all about dogs.
Lizzie had been dog-crazy for as long as she could remember. Besides the pajamas, she had dog-themed socks, sweatshirts, underpants, and even scrunchies. She had a huge collection of dog books and dog posters. She volunteered at the local animal shelter, helped out at her aunt’s doggy day care, and even had her own very successful dog-walking business (Maria was one of the partners). Not only that, she had convinced her parents that their family should foster puppies. That meant that she and her younger brothers, Charles and the Bean, had taken care of dozens of young dogs who needed their help. Every puppy only stayed a little while, until the Petersons found it the perfect forever home.
Well, every puppy but Buddy. Buddy had started out as a foster puppy, but now he was a member of the family. Lizzie loved her little brown puppy more than anything in the world. Knowing that Buddy would always be hers made up for having to say good-bye to all of the other puppies she helped foster. “I wish I could find pajamas with pictures of Buddy on them,” she said to Maria now. “Wouldn’t that be the best? Especially if they showed the little white heart-shaped spot on his chest.”
Maria smiled. “Maybe you can find a website where you could get some made. But probably not in time for Pajamarama.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Maybe I just won’t go to school on Pajamarama Day,” she said.
“Oh, come on,” Maria said. “It’s going to be fun. Can you imagine what kind of wacky p.j.’s Ms. Guzman will come up with?”
Lizzie knew Maria was right. She went back to flipping through the pajama rack, but lost interest almost right away. “We can come back another day,” she said. “There’s plenty of time.” She headed out of the store, with Maria following her.
They walked up Main Street toward Lucky Dog Books, where they were going to meet Lizzie’s mom. The air was crisp and the sky was blue, and Lizzie’s spirits lifted right away. The sun felt warm on her face as she strolled down the street. “Hi, Lizzie,” said Mrs. DeMaio, who was sweeping the sidewalk in front of the little grocery store she owned. “How’s Buddy?”
“He’s great,” Lizzie said. She loved it that Buddy was such a celebrity in their town. She wished she had him with her right now. Everybody liked Buddy, and she loved stopping into stores with him. She knew that Jerry Small, the owner of the bookstore, was a special fan. He would give her a big biscuit to take home to Buddy.
They passed the corner gas station where her dad had once found an abandoned puppy in a cardboard box. “Poor little Snowball,” said Lizzie. “I remember when we brought him home. He was so dirty and skinny!” He had been one of the Petersons’ first foster puppies, and once they had cleaned him up and fed him, he was one of the cutest—fluffy and white. They had found Snowball a perfect home. Lizzie smiled as she walked along, thinking about it.
Then she saw something that made her lose her smile. She stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk. “Do you see what I see?” she asked Maria. She pointed to the yellow VW Beetle they had just passed, parked in front of the drugstore. The back windows were open, but just barely. A small black puppy stood on the backseat, his front legs up on the car door. His flat, wrinkly nose reached for the crack at the top of the window. He panted hard. His pink tongue hung out, and his bulgy black eyes gave his face a frightened look.
“Poor little pug!” Lizzie said, poking a finger through the window to pet his wet nose. The puppy snuffled at her finger, then gave it a lick. “Argh!” said Lizzie. “This makes me so mad.”
“What?” asked Maria. “Did the puppy bite you?”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “No,” she said. “Come on, you know what I’m talking about.” She pointed to the barely cracked window. “Don’t you remember what it says on those flyers? Nobody should ever leave a dog closed up in a car.” She pulled off her backpack and started to rummage through it. “I know I have some flyers. They’re in here somewhere.”
“You mean because a car can get hot if the windows aren’t all the way down?” asked Maria. “Of course, everybody knows that. But it’s not really that warm out today.”
Lizzie pulled out a rumpled slip of paper that she’d printed out online. It was something you could tuck under a parked car’s windshield wiper, to remind people not to leave dogs in their cars. Now she read from it. “‘Even on a cool sunny day, the interior of a car can heat up quickly. A trapped dog can be in danger of major illness or even death in a matter of minutes.’” She looked up from the flyer. “I think we should call the police,” she said to Maria. “This dog could be in trouble.”
Maria stared at her. “Really?” she asked. “But the car is in the shade, and the owner will probably be back any minute.”
Lizzie read some more from the flyer. “‘Dogs don’t sweat like people do. They rely on panting to keep cool. Their body temperature can rise quickly.’” She reached through the crack in the window to scratch between the dog’s ears, then touched his nose again. So far, it was still wet and cool. “It’s okay, little guy,” she murmured. His flat little face was so cute, with those big bulgy eyes and worried-looking wrinkles. “We’ll get you out of there.” She looked toward the gas station, wondering if they had a phone she could use.
Maria reached out for the flyer. “Wait. Let me see,” she said. She scanned it quickly. “It says here that if you see a dog in a parked car, the first thing you should do is try to locate the owner. Then you call the police or animal control.”
“Okay, fine,” said Lizzie. “But how do we find the owner? Do we have to go into all the stores and make an announcement?”
“I don’t know,” said Maria. “I think maybe we should go get your mom.” She pointed to the bookstore, three doors down. “She’s probably already at Lucky Dog, waiting for us.”
Lizzie hopped from foot to foot. What to do? What to do?
Just then, a woman came running up, waving a handful of paper towels. “Here I am!” she said. “Is he okay? I was only gone for a moment.”
Lizzie folded her arms. “A moment can be too long,” she said, quoting from the flyer. She frowned at the woman.
The woman rushed to the window. “Oh, Edward, are you okay, sweetie?” She opened the car door, and the puppy jumped into her arms. She dropped the paper towels and hugged him close as his whole body wriggled with joy. A second later, he started to whine—just a whimper at first, then full-blown crying.
Need my Lambie! Need my Lambie!
“Oh, you need Lambie, don’t you?” asked the woman. She bent to reach inside the car and pulled out a grayish fuzzy toy that Lizzie guessed had once been an adorable white fleecy lamb. As soon as the pug saw it, he stopped whining. The woman gave it to him to hold in his teeth, and shook her head, smiling. “He can’t be separated from Lambie,” she said.
Lizzie couldn’t help smiling back. How could she feel mad anymore when she saw how much this lady loved her dog? Still, she couldn’t let the moment go by without saying something. “You really shouldn’t leave him in the car alone,” she said.
“I know, I know,” the woman answered. “It really was for only a second. I ran to the gas station for paper towels because I
“Did he throw up?” she asked.
The woman nodded. “He does it every time we get in the car.” She looked down at the dog in her arms and sighed. “I hate to say it, but I just don’t think Edward is the right dog for me.”
Lizzie’s ears perked up. “What do you mean?” she asked. Maybe Edward needed a new home. Maybe Edward was going to be her family’s next foster puppy! She looked around to catch Maria’s eye—but Maria wasn’t next to her. She glanced up the street and saw her mom coming down the sidewalk toward her, walking fast as she followed Maria back to the yellow VW. Lizzie felt relieved. It was good thinking of Maria to go get her mom. Now they could figure everything out, right then and there.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked. She smiled at the woman. “I’m sorry, is Lizzie bothering you? I’m Betsy Peterson, and this is my daughter—and her friend Maria.”
Lizzie put her hands on her hips. “I’m not bothering anybody,” she said. “It’s this dog, Edward. He was in the car by himself. And guess what? He might need a new home.”
“He was only alone for a second,” said the woman, holding up her handful of paper towels. She stepped forward to shake Mom’s hand. “I’m Kay. I’m an art therapist. I travel to people’s homes and work with their children. I thought it would be great to have a cute little dog along with me. Kids love dogs.” She hugged Edward and kissed the top of his head. “So do I,” she said. “And Edward loves kids. He’s crazy about children of any age.”
“So what’s the problem?” Maria asked.
Kay pointed to the backseat of her car, and Maria and Mom peeked in.
“Eeww,” they chorused.
Kay nodded. “That’s the problem,” she said. “How can I travel around with a dog who gets sick every time he’s in a car?”
“Maybe he can learn,” Lizzie said. “Maybe there’s a way to train a dog not to be carsick.” She had never come across this problem before, but she knew there was usually a solution to any dog-training issue.
“Maybe,” said Kay. “But I honestly don’t have the time. I’m always on the go. When I’m not working, I’m volunteering. I can’t leave him home, either. I can’t stand to leave him in a crate all day, but if he’s free he gets up to all kinds of mischief. Anyway, why have a dog if I’m just going to leave him home alone all day? I just feel that we are not a good match, and that there’s a much better owner out there for Edward.” She let out a big sigh.
Lizzie looked at Mom and raised her eyebrows. It was a silent way of saying, “Can we foster this puppy?”
Mom gave her a little nod, which meant, “Maybe.”
Lizzie turned back to Kay. “Our family fosters puppies. If you really think that Edward needs a new home, we could probably help with that. We can keep him until we find him the perfect owner.” She reached out her arms as if she expected Kay to hand Edward over, there and then.
But Kay didn’t hand him over. She hugged him tighter. “Oh, no,” she said. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You wouldn’t—what?” Lizzie could hardly believe her ears. Her family had fostered so many puppies. Nobody had ever said no before when she offered help.
“I wouldn’t just give my puppy up to strangers, even if you do seem like very nice strangers,” said Kay. “I was on my way to an animal shelter near here, Caring Paws I think it’s called? I’ve already spoken to the woman there about giving up Edward.”
“Ms. Dobbins,” said Lizzie. “I know her. I was at Caring Paws this morning, as a matter of fact. I volunteer there every week.”
“You do?” Kay looked impressed. “Well, I suppose you do know a lot about dogs and puppies, then. But still, if I’m going to give up my dog, I want to do it the right way.” She hugged Edward close. “It’s not an easy choice, you know.” Her voice had grown quiet as she nuzzled the pug’s neck.
Lizzie couldn’t help liking Kay, with her sweet smile, pink cheeks, and big pouf of white hair. She could imagine that Kay would be really great with little kids. Actually, Lizzie could see right away that Kay was the kind of person who would make a perfect owner for one of the Petersons’ foster puppies. Wasn’t it strange that she was about to give this puppy up?
Lizzie thought it was great that Kay cared enough to do it “the right way.” Whatever that meant, exactly. Lizzie realized that she had never actually seen someone give up their dog to Ms. Dobbins. When she worked at Caring Paws, she usually did things like walk the dogs, clean their kennels, or work on basic training like sitting and lying down. She never worked at the front desk, where they would handle what the shelter people called “relinquishment,” a big word that meant giving up a pet to the care of the shelter.
“Could we come with you?” Lizzie blurted out. She was suddenly very curious about how it all worked. Did people just hand over their dogs? She knew that sometimes people left dogs at the shelter’s front door, tied up or in a crate. That was definitely not the “right way.” “I never saw anybody relinquish their dog before.”
“Lizzie!” Mom said.
“No, it’s all right,” said Kay. “Maybe we’ll all learn something. But first—” She held up the hand that still clutched a bunch of paper towels. “I really have to clean up that mess.”
“I can hold Edward while you do it,” Lizzie offered.
Kay hesitated. Then she smiled. “That would be great,” she said.
Kay gently placed the puppy—and Lambie—into Lizzie’s outstretched arms, and Lizzie pulled the little dog close to her chest. “Ohhh.” She sighed as she sniffed the top of Edward’s head. His black fur was so soft and shiny. “He smells delicious.”
“I know!” said Kay. “Even after he’s been sick.”
Edward settled into Lizzie’s embrace with only a little squirming around. He turned his sweet wrinkly flat face up to look at her, and stuck out his pink tongue to lick her. She could hear his little pug snorts and feel his warm breath on her cheek. Lizzie felt her heart swell. How could Kay stand to give up this darling boy?
“Do you mind coming along with us if we go to Caring Paws?” Mom asked Maria quietly, while Kay leaned into the yellow VW to scrub the backseat with paper towels.
Maria shook her head as she leaned in to pet Edward. “His fur is so soft!” she said. “What a sweetie!”
Kay pulled back out of the car and tossed the used paper towels into a nearby garbage can. “He is a sweetie,” she said. “But don’t be tricked into thinking Edward is an angel. He’s super sweet and mellow if he has your attention, or Lambie, or both. Otherwise, he can really be a handful.” She held out her arms, and Lizzie handed Edward back to her. Kay kissed the top of his head and put him into the backseat. “Well,” she said. “I guess it’s time.”
“We’ll follow you, if it’s really all right,” said Mom.
Kay nodded. “It’s fine,” she said. “If I were on my own, I might be tempted to back out of the whole plan. But I know it’s the right thing to do. I’ve given it a lot of thought and I’m sure.”
* * *
Ms. Dobbins was obviously surprised to see Lizzie back at Caring Paws. “Well, hello,” she said, when Lizzie, her Mom, and Maria walked in just after Kay and Edward had arrived.
Edward strained at his leash when he saw Lizzie, panting and giving her a doggy grin. She knelt down to pet him as Kay explained the whole story, starting with how she had left Edward in the car while she ran for paper towels. “I know it’s wrong to leave a dog in a car,” she said. “I really do. I would never do it for more than a moment, and not even that long on a hot day.”
Ms. Dobbins nodded. “I understand,” she said. “But Lizzie was right to be concerned, especially with a flat-faced breed like a pug. With those extra-short noses they can have special difficulties with breathing.”
Lizzie felt herself glowing. It was nice to hear that she was right. Then Mom spoke up.
“And Lizzie understands now that she should never approach strangers on her own, even to talk about such an important thing,” Mom said. “We talked about that on the way over here. She knows she needs to involve an adult right away.” She gave Lizzie a look. “Right, Lizzie?”
