Dedication
To Jenny V. and Clara B.
and everyone else at Hinsdale Humane Society
who went above and beyond to save our Sierra.
In memory of
Carla Fisher
The best dog trainer ever
Your amazing advice lives on.
Free educator’s guide at www.redchairpress.com/free-resources
Publisher’s Cataloging-In-Publication Data
Names: Rivadeneira, Caryn Dahlstrand, author. | Alpaugh, Priscilla, illustrator.
Title: Penny helps Portia face her fears / Caryn Rivadeneira ; illustrated by Priscilla Alpaugh.
Description: [Egremont, Massachusetts] : Red Chair Press, [2020] | Series: Helper hounds | Interest age level: 006-009. | Includes fun facts and information about the dog breed, American Pit Bull Terrier. | Summary: “Born with Down syndrome, Portia knows people want to limit what she can do. Inside herself, Portia knows she can do anything--including getting over her fear of dogs. But when Penny the pit bull terrier shows up, she isn’t so sure.”--Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: ISBN 9781634407755 (library hardcover) | ISBN 9781634407786 (paperback) | ISBN 9781634407816 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: American pit bull terrier--Juvenile fiction. | Down syndrome--Patients--Juvenile fiction. | Children with mental disabilities--Juvenile fiction. | Courage--Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: Pit bull terriers--Fiction. | Down syndrome--Patients--Fiction. | Courage--Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.R5761 Pe 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.R5761 (ebook) | DDC [E]--dc23
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019935133
Text copyright © Caryn Rivadeneira
Copyright © 2020 Red Chair Press LLC
RED CHAIR PRESS, the RED CHAIR and associated logos are registered trademarks of Red Chair Press LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in an information or retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical including photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission from the Publisher. For permissions, contact [email protected]
Printed in Canada
0819 1P FRSP20
CHAPTER 1
The greyhounds huffed and chuffed. Their toenails clicked the cobblestone.
I knew these alleys like the pads of my paws. The Grey Sisters were fast, but they didn’t know the twists and turns like I did. As long as I kept my head-start, the Grey Sisters would never catch me.
But those dogs were fast. After all, greyhounds were made to race. Now I was in a race for my…Well, I didn’t know what the Grey Sisters wanted. I just knew they were scary, and I needed to get away.
I ran and ran. I turned and turned. I zipped and zapped. My chest heaved. My legs launched my body forward.
Until I saw where I was. Just behind Mario’s! I ducked behind the Dumpster. If I barked loud enough, Mario would hear me and answer the alley door. Maybe he’d bring me the steak burrito—extra hot—I was so crazy about.
I drooled just thinking about it. But I didn’t have time to think! The Grey Sisters were getting closer. I could smell their bacon breath.
Bark! Bark! Bark!
Huff. Chuff.
Bark! Bark! Bark! Mario! Mario! Bark! Bark!
Huff. Huff. Chuff.
I froze. A snout poked into my butt. Oh no. A Grey Sister…
I growled but was too afraid to look. My body tensed. The hair along my spine stood straight up. I was ready to fight. But I hoped I wouldn’t have to.
Poke. Poke. Poke.
Woof. Mario! Woof.
Poke. Poke. Giggle.
Wait. What?
Giggle. Giggle.
Poke. Shake.
Huh?
Poke. Pet. Pet.
Hold on…
I cracked open one eye. Then the other.
A girl with bushy hair like a squirrel’s tail smiled at me.
Wait a minute. Where was I?
“Silly Penny,” Hannah said.
Hannah! My tail thumped. I wasn’t back in the alley after all. I was at the Mayfair House with the Helper Hounds!
CHAPTER 2
I stretched across the cool floor. My front pads landed on Sparkplug. He turned around fast and happy-barked in my face. I took two quick sniffs. Did Sparky have the bacon breath?
“You were drooling and barking in your sleep, Penny,” Hannah said. She ran her hand down my back. “And your hair is standing up. Bad dream?” Hannah scrunched her red eyebrows at me.
It was nice of her to ask me about my dream. It was pretty scary. So I sat up and shook it off.
But I was at Mayfair House—in my bright red Helper Hounds vest—to help Hannah with her bad dreams!
Hannah had bad dreams. Really scary stuff. Hannah used to tell me about a big hairy monster that creeeeeeked the door open at night. Sometimes Hannah cried when she told me about the monster. When she did, I leaned in closer. I rested my big blocky head on her lap. And then Hannah would pet me. But sometimes—like this time—I dozed off.
Rude! I know! But just for a second. Hannah was such a good storyteller. She spoke low and slow. Plus, she was an even better petter. What could I do?
When I fell asleep, Hannah kept talking. And that’s what I was there for—to listen to Hannah talk about monsters or anything else that worried her. But good news: lately Hannah’s dreams had gotten much better. Sometimes she even dreamt about me!
“Did Penny fall asleep again, Hannah?” Miguel said.
Miguel! I sat up straighter and tilted my head toward Miguel. My tail hadn’t stopped thumping since I woke up.
“She did, Mr. Miguel,” Hannah said. “But that’s okay. I pretend she’s sleeping with me at night. So it’s good practice when she does it for real.”
Miguel laughed. “Well, I’m glad this lazy girl can help.”
I slurped Hannah’s hand. I was glad I could help too.
Miguel made small fists and brought his hands to his hips. This was the “here” command. I stood and took two steps toward Miguel. He clipped my Helper Hounds leash on.
“Well, time for us to go, Miss Hannah,” Miguel said. “Sparky and Tasha should be leaving soon too. Penny will be back next week. Same time, same place?”
“Can’t wait,” Hannah said.
I couldn’t either.
I licked Hannah goodbye. She hugged me, then waved as we left.
Miguel and I raced each other down the front staircase. I won. As always.
While Miguel caught his breath, he looked at his phone.
“Looks like we’ve got a new case, Penny,” Miguel said. “A girl named Portia needs our help.”
Then Miguel told me about Portia. Portia had done lots of hard things. Portia went to fourth grade even though some people didn’t think she was smart enough. Portia played tennis and rode horses even though some people said she wasn’t strong enough. Portia learned to do lots of things people never thought she could.
All because Portia had something called Down syndrome.
Portia was a champion at proving everyone wrong, Miguel said. But Portia still had one thing to conquer, one fear to face:
Portia was afraid of dogs!
And two new dogs had just moved into Portia’s apartment building. Right downstairs! So Portia needed to get over her fear. And fast!
Most of the Helper Hounds would never understand how anyone could be afraid of dogs. But me? I get it. I used to be afraid of
dogs too.
As Miguel told me more about Portia, I remembered my dream about the Grey Sisters. I shook.
My bad dream used to be my real life. Well, kind of.
CHAPTER 3
I wasn’t scared of dogs when I was a puppy.
In fact, my brothers and sisters and I played very nicely, as I remember. Maybe only once or twice (okay, fifteen times a day), my mom had to dig her snout into the tumble of red-nosed pit bull puppies. Mom would grab one of us by the scruff to stop us from playing too hard.
The one getting grabbed was usually me. But what can I say? I’m a tough girl. I’ve never taken guff from any dogs—including my siblings.
But still, I don’t remember them scaring me back then.
When I was old enough to start sleeping and eating away from my mom, I went to live with a family with three human kids, a human mom, and one Chihuahua named Chip.
Chip hated me. And when I say hated, I mean hated. I tried to play but Chip would snarl and bark, growl and bite. I’d roll over to show Chip I knew he was boss. (Though, even as a puppy, I was much, much bigger than Chip.)
But Chip didn’t care. Chip wanted me gone.
One day, the mom got tired of us fighting and chained me to a little shed in the backyard. Chip got to stay inside. The backyard wasn’t so bad at first. I spent my days lying around the yard. I spied on squirrels as they scampered up trees. I darted out at bunnies as they munched clover. I liked the smells and sounds of the outside. The rumble of the train tracks near our house helped me go to sleep when the nights got lonely. And scary.
I didn’t like hearing the howls and snarls of other dogs. I wondered where they were and if they’d find me. And sometimes a raccoon would get a little too close to my crate. I’d bark and bark and hope to get let back in the house. Chip would look out the window. But no one ever opened the door.
Soon, they forgot about me altogether.
One day a neighbor boy heard me barking. He gave me a bowl of water and half of a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. He pet my tummy and unclipped my chain when I got tangled in it. I hoped he would stay and play—forever—but when a woman called his name, the boy pet me one last time. Then ran out of the yard.
I took two giant steps after him. And then a forth and a fifth. I waited for my chain to tug at the collar around my neck. But it never did.
So I took a sixth and seventh and then an eighth step. The boy hadn’t clipped me back up. I was free! I started to run.
I ran and ran and ran. Then I trotted and trotted. And then I walked.
That’s where I started my life on the streets and in the alleys. Good news: I wasn’t on the streets or in the alleys very long. I only went through one season! Bad news: that season was a long Chicago winter. I spent most of my days looking for food and a warm place to sleep.
That’s when I really became afraid of dogs! But that’s also when I got a lot tougher. On the streets, you never know when a bigger, colder, or hungrier dog is going to try and take your food or your warm place to sleep. Rough-and-tumbling with my puppy siblings was one thing. Keeping the Grey Sisters from stealing my food and my blanket was another! I got so nervous around other dogs that I learned to bark and lunge first, ask questions later. And, the first time the Grey Sisters showed up and chased me through the alleys, my muscles tensed. My hair spiked. My barks got higher and higher until they sounded like screams. The Grey Sisters barked and snarled right back at me.
My friend Mario must have heard us in the alley. Before I knew it, a door squeaked open and a bucket of cold water splashed all around. The Grey Sisters took off. I curled behind the Dumpster and shook. Mario came out with a pile of dish towels, a bowl of water, and a steak burrito.
“You don’t mind that the burrito fell on the floor, do you?” Mario said.
I didn’t.
Mario waited while I scarfed down the steak from the burrito and spit out the beans. I lapped up the water. Then Mario toweled me off and scratched my neck.
My tail wagged and wagged. I loved Mario. I wanted him to be my human.
“Wish I could invite you into the restaurant, sweet girl,” he said. “But no dogs allowed. The boss would fire me.”
Mario piled the dish rags into a bed for me and walked back through the door.
Sounds sad, right? It was! But here’s some good news: lots of people helped me. Mario fed me. Another lady opened her garage for me and piled blankets for me to sleep on. One man bent to scratch me every single day. Sometimes he even had a treat!
But still no one invited me into their cars or homes or lives, until one day, a car slowed as I trotted through the snow.
“Hey, puppy,” a voice said through the open window. I wasn’t much of a puppy anymore, but I didn’t care. The voice sounded nice. My tail wagged.
The car pulled along the curb. I sat in a pile of snow and watched as the car came to a stop.
The man with the nice voice got out and said: “You lost, pup?”
I wasn’t really lost. But the voice was so nice that I wagged and wagged. The man walked up slowly and then knelt in front of me. He held out his hand. I sniffed it.
His hand smelled like food so I licked it. Then I moved in to kiss his face. The man laughed and fell back in the snow. I wiggled and wagged and licked his whole face.
I fell right in love.
The man sat up and scratched my back.
Then he snuck a long leash around my neck. It felt weird at first, like my old chain. So I shook and tried to wiggle it off. But when he stood up, slapped his leg, and invited me to follow, I did. And when he opened the car door and patted the seat, I jumped right in. I curled up and snuggled down on the front seat. The car was warm and soft and smelled like fried chicken. I was tired.
The man laughed when he sat down next to me. He scratched my neck and as I was drifting off, I heard him say: “I’m Miguel. But who are you, sweetie? Where are you from?”
I didn’t know how to answer either of those questions so I just fell asleep as the car rumbled on.
Next thing I knew, the car stopped.
“We’re home,” Miguel said.
CHAPTER 4
While I lapped up water and then gobbled down some chopped-up chicken in Miguel’s kitchen, Miguel called the police station and the animal shelters.
“She’s a penny-colored pit bull,” he’d say into his phone. “No collar. Real skinny.”
Then Miguel would come back to me, scratch my ears, and say: “Doesn’t sound like anyone is missing you, pup.”
This was not news to me. I would have told Miguel this, but we didn’t speak the same language yet.
And so I stayed that night—with Miguel. He gave me a bath, brushed my hair, and let me sleep right on his bed. As I fell asleep, Miguel scratched my neck and called me “Penny.” I liked the way he said that. Penny was a good name. I rested my snout on his chest. That’s all I remember of that first night.
The next day Miguel’s sister, Elisa, came by with some dog food, a real leash, and a big bed. Elisa is a vet—an animal doctor. Normally she works with elephants and tigers and huge snakes (yuck) at the zoo. But she knows lots about dogs too. So Elisa looked at my teeth, clipped my toenails, ran a little comb through my hair, and poked me with a needle. I didn’t like it, but Elisa told me I was a good girl. A very good girl.
“I can’t believe she’s so trusting,” Elisa said. “Looks like she was homeless for a long time. She’s so calm.”
Miguel nodded.
“She’s a quick learner too,” Miguel said. “Penny can already sit. Basic commands won’t be a problem. Penny could be great.”
I had no idea what they thought I’d be great at, but I liked hearing “Penny.” And I liked the treats Elisa and Miguel gave me every time I sat and when I slid down to the floor.
“Alright,” Elisa said as she scratch
ed my neck. “Let’s see how she is with Tex.”
That’s when things got tricky.
Miguel clipped a leash on my brand new collar and said, “Sit.” I sat. A door opened. Next thing I knew, a huge German shepherd was tapping his nails across Miguel’s floor. Hair flew from his slinky body.
Tex woof-woof-woofed when he saw me.
My body tensed. The hair along my spine spiked.
I was terrified. He was even bigger than a Grey Sister! He might try to take my bed, my new home, my food!
The rest is a bit of a blur.
I lunged at Tex. I didn’t even bark. I just pulled hard against the leash. Tex just kept swiffing his tail back and forth. He wasn’t afraid at all.
Miguel called my name and told me to sit. I did. But I kept my eyes on Tex. Then Miguel made a clicky sound with his mouth. When I looked up at him, he gave me a bit of liver. Yum!
I looked back at Tex. Miguel clicked again so I looked back at Miguel. More liver! Yum again! This was fun.
My body relaxed. If looking away from Tex was going to get me liver treats, Tex could stay all day.
“That’s good. She’s relaxing,” Elisa said. “But she’ll have to keep working on her ‘dog reactivity.’”
I had no idea what “dog reactivity” was but again: if working on it meant more treats, I was all in.
Long story short: Elisa and Tex started coming by every day. (Well, except for the week after I got my little operation to make sure I wouldn’t have puppies. Don’t worry: that wasn’t so bad. I got extra snuggles and treats!)
Then, before I knew it, I would greet Tex without barking or lunging. Now my tail wagged and we could romp and stomp and play with my alligator tug toy. I even learned how to eat out of bowl right next to Tex without getting nervous.
I still had trouble with some of the dogs I met at the dog-food store and that one crazy poodle at the vet. But most dogs didn’t seem so scary anymore. In fact, I began to wonder what I’d been afraid of all along.
But then sometimes, I’d dream about the Grey Sisters and it would all come back to me. I’d shake and rumble in my sleep, but I’d wake up to Miguel smiling at me and telling me what a good girl I was. Then I remembered: I was home and I was safe.
Penny Helps Portia Face Her Fears Page 1
