Because of Shoe and Other Dog Stories Page 3

  “Well, by this time Shoe was all hyper and jumping from one side of Mom to the other. So the guy does this amazing thing. He points at Shoe and says, ‘Sit!’ And Shoe sat! Mom and I were so surprised because Shoe never obeyed. Mom said, ‘If you’re so good at making a dog obey, why are you here?’”

  The judge put his glasses back on. “Why was he there?”

  “He said he was really good with big dogs. But that he’d never had a little dog in his life. See, the poodle would have never been his choice for a dog. He inherited it from a neighbor, a little lady who lived next door. The guy was always driving her—the lady, not the poodle—to the store and to the bank and fixing stuff around her house, and so when she died, she left her dog to him in her will. So how could he say no? But the poodle had some … uh … problems, like taking the guy’s laundry outside—even his underwear—and leaving it in the street. And being afraid of feathers. If the poodle even saw one on the ground or especially floating in the sky, it started trembling and crying, and it was pitiful.” I put my hand on my throat.

  “Are you okay?” asked the judge.

  “Yes. Sometimes when I talk too much, I start to gulp air and then I have to rest.”

  “Anytime you’re ready,” said the judge.

  I massaged my throat and then began again. “So, we were at the park standing in line. The little poodle was wearing a tag with its name on it. Mom reached over to pat the poodle and said, ‘Lucky? Your name is Lucky? I should have adopted a little dog like you.’ And at that moment, the poodle leapt into Mom’s arms, nuzzled into her neck, and started licking her ears. Mom was cooing and holding the poodle like a baby and tickling his tummy. And that’s when it happened.”

  The judge leaned forward.

  “While Mom was going all crazy for Lucky, Shoe stood up and walked a little closer to the man and sniffed around his feet. Then she looked up at me. I bent down and said, ‘What is it, Shoe?’ She looked at the man and looked at Mom and then at me, and it was like she knew.”

  The judge’s forehead crinkled. “Knew what?”

  “That we were all MTBT. Sometimes dogs just know. And Shoe wanted to do something about it. So she did.”

  “MTBT?”

  “Meant to Be Together.”

  The judge nodded slowly. “Okay. And what did Shoe do, exactly?”

  Everyone in the courtroom leaned forward.

  I took a deep breath. “Shoe squatted and peed right on his shoes.”

  There was a collective gasp and then a burst of laughter.

  “Oh, my,” said the judge.

  “I know! Mom was seriously horrified. Shoe had never done anything like that before. And Mom didn’t know this guy or how he’d react. Or if he’d be furious or even sue us.”

  “What did he do?” asked the judge.

  “He just stared at his shoes. The pee was streaming down the outsides and the insides and soaking into his socks and everything. Then he stared at mom and laughed. He just laughed. And then Mom began to laugh too, and she kept saying, between laughing, ‘I’m so sorry.’ And he kept saying, ‘Really, it’s okay.’ And Mom said, ‘No, no, it’s not okay.’ When they were finally taking deep breaths and calming down, he looked at me and asked, ‘What’s your dog’s name?’ When I said, ‘Shoe,’ he looked at Mom and they started all over again, but this time they were laughing so hard that they were all bent over and holding their stomachs. I mean, a dog named Shoe pees on his shoes.”

  The judge smiled. “Yes, I see the irony.”

  “Somehow, I ended up holding the little poodle and Shoe’s leash because Mom and the guy were hysterical. And all this time, Shoe was being absolutely well-behaved. She was just sitting there calmly at my side, smiling. Some people say dogs don’t smile. But I promise you, Shoe was smiling.”

  A side door to the courtroom opened, and a clerk walked up to the judge and handed him a paper. “Your honor, the schedule is quite full today.”

  “How long do we have left?”

  “About ten minutes,” said the man.

  The judge turned to me, “Lily, can you wrap it up in ten?”

  I swallowed and nodded. “So I just stood there, holding Shoe’s leash and Lucky, and watching my mom and this guy laughing so hard they were crying. I was surprised at Shoe because it wasn’t good dog manners to pee on someone’s shoes. But the thing that was the most surprising was hearing my mom laugh like that.”

  “Why was that surprising, Lily?” asked the judge.

  “Well, see, it’s been really hard for her taking care of me by herself all these years. She hardly ever did anything like go out with people her own age or on a date. Not that guys didn’t ask her out. They did. And sometimes she went out with them, but so far, they’d been so not her type. And Shoe didn’t like any of them. There was this one guy who only talked Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And another who only ate orange food for dinner. Oh, and one who whistled through his nose when he breathed.”

  Mom was practically coughing from clearing her throat, and her cheek was pink from all the tapping.

  I took two deep breaths and paused for a second. “She sort of gave up dating and just concentrated on me. And that was okay. I was her top priority. Sometimes, though, I wanted someone special, besides me, to concentrate on her. That day in the park, it was so nice. The way he was holding her arm and looking at her and laughing with her was nice … really nice.”

  “I can imagine it was,” said the judge.

  “You want to know a secret?” I asked.

  The judge had his elbow on his desk and had his chin resting in his hand. “Yes, Lily, I actually do.”

  “Kids really like to hear their parents laugh because it means they have happiness in their hearts. See, most of the time parents’ hearts are all filled up with responsibility and seriousness. When Mom was laughing out loud in the park, all I could do was just stand there and listen and smile, because … well … it was like a favorite song I hadn’t heard in a really long time.”

  The courtroom was very quiet. I wasn’t sure how many minutes I had left, but I started talking right away because there was more I wanted and needed to say. “See, it’s kind of amazing how much you can learn about a complete stranger by simply standing in line with him and watching your dog pee on his shoes. We were really lucky that the line was so long, too, because by the time we got to the registration table, Mom discovered that the guy’s name was Theodore Ochoa, but everyone called him Theo, and that he knew one of Mom’s friends from the hospital. And what were the chances of that? He lived practically in our neighborhood and sometimes jogged by our house. He said he used to have a dog who ran with him, but that dog died, and he missed having a friend at his side. To make a long story short…” I looked up at the judge to see if he got my joke.

  He winked at me.

  “Theo started stopping by to take Shoe for a run. And Shoe just loved Theo, but not as much as she loved me, of course. And when he took Shoe for a run, Mom and I would dogsit Lucky. We just made sure to put away the feather duster. And sometimes Theo would stay for dinner. And well, one thing led to another.”

  There was a tiny smile on Mom’s face.

  “Lily, let me get this straight. Your mom married Theo—”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s why you have petitioned the court?”

  “Yes. Since Theo’s last name is Ochoa, and now Mom’s last name is Ochoa, I’d really like to be an Ochoa, too. But the rule is that you have to get permission to change your name from all the parents listed on your birth certificate, even if you’ve never met them in your entire life. And if you can’t, you have to come to court so the judge—that’s you—can decide if it’s in my best interest. I hope you decide that it is, because all I ever had for a father was a name on a piece of paper. And that’s not very real.”

  I looked at Mom and thought about how happy Theo had made her and me. “See, real is the father who does stuff with you, like drive you to soccer practice, a
nd go for walks on the pier with you and your dog, and help you with your homework, and bring you a quilt when you’re cold in the middle of the night. That’s the one who is real.”

  The judge took off his glasses again—not to clean them but to blot his eyes. “And where is Theo now, Lily?”

  “He’s waiting right out in front of the courthouse with Shoe and Lucky so that if we need him, he can trade places with Mom at a moment’s notice.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Lily,” said the judge. “You’re the only one I need to talk to today.”

  “Afterward, no matter what your decision, we’re going to Dog Beach, where you can let your dogs off leash to run around and play and jump in the waves. We can take Lucky now, even though there are a lot of bird feathers on the sand, because we did behavior therapy with him. And Shoe hasn’t peed on one other person.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear it,” said the judge.

  The clerk came back into the courtroom.

  The judge turned to me. “Lily, I think you’ve given me enough information to make my ruling. You made my job easier today. You may step down.”

  I slipped out of the witness stand and went to Mom’s side. The judge made his decision and passed the paperwork to the clerk, who passed it to Mom, who smiled.

  There was something happening inside me, something filling me up with so much emotion that my throat felt tight. I couldn’t say good-bye to the judge. All I could do was hold up my hand and bend my fingers in a tiny wave. Mom stood up and put her arm around me, and we headed out of the courtroom.

  The clerk called the name of another child, and he and his family took our places. I hoped they would have a good outcome.

  Outside, Theo was waiting on a bench. Shoe sat next to him and he held Lucky in his arms. Lucky started wiggling as soon as he saw us.

  Theo drove us to Dog Beach, and Mom held Lucky in her lap. I sat in the back seat with Shoe. Each time I looked at her, she tilted her head to the side and stared at me. I stroked her chest and talked to her with my eyes. When we arrived at the beach, Shoe and Lucky jumped from the car and ran toward the water. I held back and walked hand-in-hand with Theo and Mom.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Lily,” said Theo. “That’s not like you. Everything okay? Do we need to see a doctor? Do you have a temperature? You know, your mom has connections at the hospital.”

  I smiled.

  * * *

  Shoe races toward me, wet from the waves. She stops at my side and shakes. Droplets spray over me. I bend over and put my face near hers. Wildly, her tail wags, and she licks my cheek. I want her to be the first to hear. I whisper, “Lily Ochoa.”

  Shoe leaps back and plants her front legs apart, then jumps forward again, egging me on. Suddenly, I don’t feel like being quiet anymore. I spread out my arms. Shoe runs, and I chase her. This time, I yell into the ocean breeze. “Lily Ochoa!”

  Lucky barks. Shoe barks louder.

  Mom and Theo laugh.

  All my happiness spills over, and as usual, my mind has a mind of its own. I yell my new name again, and again, and again.

  Science Fair

  Written and illustrated by Mark Teague

  Howard

  Soon after Judy Nussenbaum moved in next door, Howard Eubanks became a dog. To most people in Fenwick Grove, the events were unrelated. Boys rarely became dogs, after all, and Howard’s transformation was considered a sad and mystifying event. But Judy didn’t think so, and neither did Howard. Every time she walked by his house, he barked.

  “It’s not my fault!” she called from her own front yard. “How was I supposed to know it would work?”

  The question was unanswerable, especially by Howard. But even in his dim, doggy state, he blamed her.

  The day they met, Howard was working in his lab, as usual. When Judy pounded on the front door, he emerged from the basement, blinking like a mole. “What do you want?”

  “Mom says we have to go outside.” She had frizzled hair and pointy elbows. Sunlight glinted on her braces.

  “I don’t even know you.”

  “I’m Judy Nussenbaum. Who’re you?”

  “Howard Eubanks, and I’m busy. The science fair is in two days. Now go away.”

  For Howard, the science fair at Arturo V. Mortensen Middle School was the year’s most important event. Twice he’d entered and twice—inexplicably—he’d lost.

  His first attempt came in sixth grade. He was sure he’d win. All year he’d been winning chess tournaments and debate tournaments and spelling bees. He’d programmed his clock radio to send signals in Morse code. He translated the Gettysburg Address into Egyptian hieroglyphs. Everyone knew he was a genius. The Fenwick Times featured him in an article titled “Ten Kids to Watch Out For.”

  “I’m simply better than everyone else,” he confided to his diary.

  And yet, somehow, Monique Moldinado won first prize at that year’s fair. Her invention, a tap-dancing robot, took the event by storm. After renditions of “I’ve Got Rhythm” and “Mr. Bojangles,” it brought down the house with a spirited performance of “Singin’ in the Rain.”

  Howard had to settle for honorable mention. His solar-powered pooper-scooper was a remarkable and useful device, but it couldn’t dance.

  “Don’t listen to them,” said Mr. Von Epps, his science teacher, when Howard’s classmates giggled. “Foolish people may call you names, but you must never be deterred.”

  “De-TURD!” gasped Wayne Funderberg, as if he’d been handed a precious gift.

  “De-TURD! De-TURD!” chanted the rest of the class.

  The nickname stuck. “My school is infested with morons,” wrote Howard.

  The worst thing about morons was that they were too dumb to know they were morons. They were even too dumb to know that he, Howard, was made of finer stuff. “I will have to show them,” he wrote.

  He began planning for next year’s fair. As a demonstration of behavioral science, he trained a dozen chicks to play “Jingle Bells” on a piano. “Let’s see Monique Moldinado top that!” he wrote. But it was Tommy Alvarez who won first prize. Flown by a crew of hamsters, his miniature zeppelin was a triumph. The crowd went wild. The hamsters danced in their tiny cockpit.

  Meanwhile, Howard learned that chicks, however musical, cannot be house-trained. The mess they made on the keyboard brought a familiar chant.

  “De-TURD! De-TURD!”

  “Cretins!” Howard wrote. “They ridicule what they don’t understand.”

  What he could not understand was how Monique Moldinado and Tommy Alvarez could have beaten him. He was the genius, after all. And geniuses never quit!

  “My final attempt,” he wrote, “will be the greatest achievement in the history of science fairs!”

  So Howard brooded while the chicks grew to rangy adulthood. At night he lay awake, scheming, while roosters crowed in his backyard. He realized that training birds had been a mistake. Nobody liked poultry. If he wanted to win, he would need rodents, like Tommy Alvarez.

  A plan took shape in his mind. He Googled information on genetics. He learned everything he could about DNA and RNA, chromosomes and mitochondrial extraction. He bribed the Trevinos’ bulldog, Larry, with ham bones so that he could scrape skin cells from its tongue. He constructed a laboratory in his basement and disappeared for days on end. He manipulated chromosomes and spliced genes. He injected his mouse with formulas derived from mutant dog cells. He cackled. His brilliance would shock the world!

  The fair approached. Howard was just one step away from dazzling his fellow students with the world’s first dog-mouse. He worked harder. Dark circles appeared under his eyes.

  Then Judy Nussenbaum showed up.

  “Go away!” he repeated. “I’m at a critical point in my experiment.”

  “Snotty.” She peered through the screen door. “You got a lab down there?”

  “Yes, and it’s quite extensive. As I said, the science fair is in two days.”

  “I’ll probably win
that,” she said in an offhand way.

  Howard’s face reddened. “You will not! The fair is highly competitive.”

  “So am I. If you’re lucky, maybe I will help you.”

  “Like I need your help!”

  She examined him closely. “Trust me, you do.”

  “You’re the one who needs help,” said Howard. “As in psychiatric help. For your information, I’m doing research that will change the whole world.”

  “Uh-huh.” Judy yawned. “What did you do for last year’s fair?”

  The question surprised him. “I taught chicks to play ‘Jingle Bells’ on a piano.”

  “Well, that’s sort of interesting. Where’d you get the little pianos?”

  “Stupid! There weren’t any little pianos! It was a dozen chicks on a regular-sized piano. Each one pecked a separate note.”

  “Chickens are dumb,” she said. “Your roosters keep me awake all night.”

  “Never mind chickens. This year I’m doing something much more sophisticated. I’m going to create a dog-mouse.”

  “A dog-mouse, huh? Will it dance?”

  “No, it won’t dance!” Howard slammed the door.

  Back in his lab, he was unable to concentrate. Had he said too much? What if Judy Nussenbaum really did have a plan to win the fair? Could she be another Monique Moldinado or Tommy Alvarez? “Don’t let it happen again!” he wrote in his diary. That night he slept fitfully. The roosters crowed.

  Judy caught up with him the next morning on the way to school. Howard put his head down and sped up. The fair was coming. He mustn’t be distracted.

  “Look at the way you walk,” she said. “All hunched over. You might as well tape a ‘kick me’ sign to your back.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “I wish I could,” she said. “But I’m interested in you, and when I take an interest in something, I’m very persistent. Know what I’m going to do?”

  “No. Nor do I care.”

  “I’m going to fix you so you aren’t such a dwid. It’s my new project.”

  “I’m not a dwid, whatever that is. For your information I was voted one of the Fenwick Times’ Ten Kids to Watch Out For.”