Rusty

by Ellen Miles

  In the end, Nicole was right. Making the dog tags was fun, and Lizzie was happy with her finished product. Like all the campers’ tags, hers had both her name and her Pet Pal’s name on it. RUSTY’S PAL, LIZZIE, it said. Lizzie had glued red feathers all around her purple tag — she liked how the feathers represented Rusty’s beautiful coat — and sparkled everything up with pink and purple glitter.

  “Nice,” said Nicole. She showed Lizzie the tag she’d made, with her pal Nora’s name in red, surrounded by gold sequins. She’d added some black Lab stickers, too.

  Lizzie threaded pink yarn through the holes she’d punched in her tag and put it around her neck. Rusty’s Pal, Lizzie, she thought. He really did feel like her pal already. She loved his happy attitude. Rusty was overflowing with energy and good spirits. Lizzie knew he must hate being penned up in his kennel all day and overnight.

  Would a pal really let a pal live like that?

  Lizzie thought back to her conversation with her mom earlier that day.

  “Promise me you won’t come home with a puppy for us to foster,” Mom had said.

  “No worries,” Lizzie remembered answering.

  That wasn’t exactly a promise, was it?

  When they finished their craft project, the campers helped clear off the big table for lunch. Lizzie wished she could go hang out with Rusty while she ate the cheese sandwich she’d brought, but Ms. Dobbins shook her head when Lizzie asked.

  “Our days are all planned out so everyone will have a great time at camp.” She put a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time with Rusty. I’m so glad you’re okay with him being your Pet Pal. I can tell he already likes you a lot.”

  “I have a feeling Rusty likes just about everyone he meets,” Lizzie said, smiling. Even so, she felt good hearing Ms. Dobbins say that.

  Aunt Amanda arrived just as the campers were cleaning up after lunch. Lizzie ran over to give her a hug. “There’s the coolest puppy here!” she said. “His name’s Rusty, and he’s an Irish setter, and — ”

  Aunt Amanda held up a hand. “I can’t wait to meet him, sweetie,” she said. “But right now I have to get set up for my presentation. Can you help me pull down the movie screen?” She bustled about, setting her laptop on a stool and plugging it in.

  When Aunt Amanda was ready, Ms. Dobbins called for the campers to sit on the floor. “And now for today’s special guest,” she said, “who happens to be related to one of our campers!” She explained that Amanda was Lizzie’s aunt and told everyone about her doggy day-care business. “Amanda is here to help us learn to speak dog language,” she said. She laughed. “I don’t mean we can translate exactly what they’re saying when they bark or whine. It’s more about learning to read their body language, right, Amanda?”

  “That’s right. We can tell a lot about how dogs are feeling by looking at the way they are standing, or how they’re holding their ears and tails. Can anybody guess why that’s important?” Aunt Amanda asked. She looked around for raised hands.

  Lizzie waved hers. “Because,” she said when her aunt called on her, “it’s good to be able to know how a dog is feeling. Like if he’s friendly, or worried or scared. Then you know how to act with the dog, like whether to pet him or leave him alone.”

  Aunt Amanda nodded. “Exactly. Knowing how to speak Dog is helpful when we meet strange dogs and also for communicating with our own dogs. Let’s look at some pictures and see how well we can read dog body language.” She pushed a button on her clicker, and a picture of a golden retriever filled the screen. The dog was sitting with her tail along the floor. Her mouth was slightly open, her ears were hanging naturally, and her eyes were bright. “What do we think about this dog?” she asked. “Is she angry or upset?”

  “No!” everybody yelled.

  “Happy!” Marc said.

  “Relaxed,” said another camper.

  “Very good,” said Aunt Amanda. “That’s a dog who’s ready to interact and play.” She clicked again and showed them a picture of a Dalmatian lying on his back with his paws in the air. “How about this one?”

  “That dog does not want to fight,” said Natalie.

  “Exactly,” said Aunt Amanda. “We call this submissive. He’s showing that he is not a threat. Some dogs may do this when they’re feeling uncomfortable and need space. Other dogs might be looking for a belly rub. It’s best to hold off on that unless you know the dog well.”

  “My puppy, Buddy, loves belly rubs,” Lizzie whispered to Nicole.

  “My dog, Sandy, does, too,” Nicole whispered back.

  Aunt Amanda moved to the next picture. It was of a German shepherd who was crouching low with his ears back and his head turned away. His tail was between his legs. “And this dog?” she asked.

  “Scared!” someone said.

  “Worried,” said Nicole.

  “Upset,” said another camper. “Maybe even mad.”

  Aunt Amanda nodded. “You’re all right. When a dog crouches low, he might be angry. But see the way this dog’s head is turned away and his tail is tucked? Because of that, we can guess that he is more afraid or confused than angry. He is showing stress, and it’s probably best to leave him alone unless you are his owner. He needs a calming word or touch from someone he knows and loves.” She moved to another picture, of a dog yawning wide.

  “Sleepy!”

  “Bored!”

  Nobody was bothering to raise their hands anymore. Everyone yelled out ideas.

  “Maybe,” said Aunt Amanda. “But yawning can also be a sign of stress. So can panting, or pacing, or even drooling.” She showed some more slides, including a scary one of a dog with all her teeth bared, and talked about how important it was to notice the signals dogs were giving all the time. “For example, pay attention the next time you hug your dog. Does he turn his head away? Does she lean in the other direction or lay her ears back? Not all dogs enjoy being hugged.”

  “My dog hates hugs,” said one of the campers. “She likes to play with her sock monkey toy, though. So we do that instead.”

  “Great,” said Aunt Amanda. “It sounds like you know how to communicate really well with your dog.” She clicked to one last slide, of her own dogs: four pugs and a big golden retriever, all lined up on her big brown couch. She introduced each of them by name, ending with Bowser, the golden retriever her business was named after. “My guys said to say hi to all of you. They’re really excited that you’re learning to speak Dog.”

  Ms. Dobbins stood up and started clapping, and everyone else joined in. “Thank you, Amanda. That was wonderful. Maybe you’ll come back another day and share some more of what you know about dogs.”

  Ms. Dobbins smiled at the campers. “What a great first day of camp,” she said. “I hope you all had fun and learned some things about animals.” She checked her watch. “Your parents will be here to pick you up in about fifteen minutes. Come on up and take a camp T-shirt, then you can pack your things and get ready.”

  All the campers rushed to the big table, where stacks of Camp Cares-a-Lot T-shirts were laid out according to size and color. Lizzie quickly picked out a red one, then grabbed her backpack and waited impatiently while Aunt Amanda put her computer away and chatted with Ms. Dobbins. Lizzie really, really wanted her aunt to meet Rusty. She knew that if anyone could help her talk her mom into fostering the feisty red pup, it would be Aunt Amanda.

  “Can you text my mom and ask her to pick me up a little later?” Lizzie asked Aunt Amanda as they walked toward the kennels. “I really need some training help with Rusty.” She had decided not to talk about her fostering idea right away. First she wanted her aunt to meet Rusty. She wanted to see what Aunt Amanda thought of him.

  “Sure.” Aunt Amanda pulled out her phone and clicked away. “Now, where is this amazing puppy you want me to meet?”

  “Right here,” said Lizzie, stopping in front of Rusty’s kennel. The red pup leapt to his feet as soon as he saw her. He shook off and ran to t
he door of his kennel. He put a paw up on the wire mesh and gave a happy bark.

  It’s you again! I knew you’d come back. I’ve been so bored. Is it time to play again?

  “Hi, Rusty,” said Lizzie, putting her hand up next to his paw. “Uh-oh,” she added when she noticed the pile of shredded fleece that had once been Rusty’s bed. “I think somebody was bored.”

  Aunt Amanda smiled and shook her head. “Irish setters can be a handful,” she said. “They have a lot of energy, and they need a lot of attention.”

  Lizzie slipped inside Rusty’s cage so she could pet him. He wriggled happily as she scratched between his long, silky ears. “But I think he’s really smart, too,” she said. “And he’s such a happy guy.”

  “He’s gorgeous,” said Aunt Amanda. “Look at that coat.”

  Lizzie snapped a leash onto Rusty’s collar. “Yup, he’s gorgeous,” she said. “But he doesn’t seem to know how to walk nicely on a leash.”

  “We can work on that,” said Aunt Amanda. She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out a bag of treats. Rusty rushed over to sniff at it through the mesh of his kennel. “That’s right,” said Aunt Amanda. “I’ve got some special goodies here.”

  They took Rusty out to the dog yard. “Let’s let him run a little first,” suggested Aunt Amanda. “He’s got a lot of energy to burn off.”

  Rusty took off at a mad gallop the second Lizzie unclipped his leash. He dashed around and around the yard, ears flapping in the wind.

  Wheee! It feels so good to run.

  As Rusty was about to pass them for the third time, Aunt Amanda held out the bag of treats. “Come see what I have, Rusty,” she said.

  Rusty put on the brakes and slid to a stop, grinning up at her.

  Yup, yup, I know you’ve got something good! I can smell it already.

  Aunt Amanda told him to sit, and he plopped right down, still staring up at her. “Good boy,” she said, tossing him a treat. She smiled at Lizzie. “I’ve never met a dog who can resist my friend Sue’s homemade jerky treats.”

  Rusty had gulped down the treat and was still watching Aunt Amanda. “Good boy,” she said again. “Look at me. That’s good. Look at me.” She waited until he was gazing into her eyes again and gave him another treat. “The first step for teaching a dog like Rusty to walk nicely on a leash is getting his attention,” Aunt Amanda said as she snapped on Rusty’s leash. “He has to feel like you’re the most interesting thing in the world. Good treats can really help!”

  Aunt Amanda patted her leg. “Come on, Rusty, let’s walk,” she said. Rusty started right off with her but soon pulled forward until he was straining at the leash. Aunt Amanda stopped moving. Rusty turned back to see what was going on. “Good boy!” she said. “Look at me!” She gave him a treat. Again, she turned to Lizzie. “Now I’m rewarding him just for checking in with me. Soon he’ll get the picture — that he should be paying attention to me all the time.”

  Sure enough, within a few minutes, Aunt Amanda was moving around the yard with Rusty walking calmly at her side. He was like a different dog! Rusty seemed to be really enjoying himself. His long, feathered tail wagged constantly as he walked next to Aunt Amanda. He gazed up at her lovingly as he pranced along, waiting for praise and treats.

  What do you want me to do next? Just tell me. I’ll do anything for some attention — and some more of those treats.

  Lizzie was amazed. She had seen her aunt work with a lot of different dogs, but she’d never seen her make such a difference so quickly. “Rusty really is smart, isn’t he?” she asked.

  Aunt Amanda nodded. “He is. And he wants to please. He really likes to be praised, and he’ll do just about anything you ask once he understands what you want.”

  “I knew it,” said Lizzie. “I knew he had a lot of potential. All he needs is a little attention, and he’ll turn into a dog that anybody would want to adopt.” She took a deep breath. “That’s why I hope you can help convince my mom that we should foster him.”

  Aunt Amanda laughed. “Aha!” she said. “I had a feeling that’s where this was going.”

  “So did I,” Mom said, stepping out of the shadows near the door to the dog yard.

  “Have you been watching the whole time?” Lizzie asked.

  “Just about,” Mom said. “Ms. Dobbins sent me out here. She told me that you’re already head over heels for this dog.” She put her hands on her hips. “He’s beautiful. I can see why you like him, but, Lizzie, I thought we talked about this. You promised you wouldn’t beg me to foster a puppy you met during camp.”

  “Well, I didn’t exactly promise,” Lizzie began. She could see from her mom’s face that this argument wasn’t going to get her anywhere, so she moved on. “But anyway, Rusty wouldn’t be any trouble for you. He’ll just stay with us at night, and during the day he’ll come to Caring Paws with me.” She held her breath, waiting to see what Mom would say.

  “Look at them go!” said Charles as he and Lizzie stood in the backyard later that day. Rusty and Buddy tore around the yard, chasing each other so fast that sometimes one or the other of them almost somersaulted as they took a turn. Rusty’s coat was a red blur.

  Mom had given in to fostering Rusty — at least, she’d agreed to give it a try. Mom always gave in when it came to fostering puppies. With some puppies it took a little more work, but in the end she never really put her foot down and said no. It had helped that Aunt Amanda had gotten to know Rusty a little bit. “He’s really a good boy at heart,” she had told Lizzie’s mom as she and Lizzie hurried her past his kennel at Caring Paws. (Neither of them had wanted Mom to spot the shredded dog bed.) “He’ll get along great with Buddy, and I don’t think he’ll be much trouble at all.”

  Ms. Dobbins had helped, too. “You’re doing me — and Rusty — a huge favor,” she said as she saw them out the door. “I think he’d be so bored here overnight. Also, the more time he can spend with a family, the better. He’ll learn some manners at your house, and soon he’ll be ready for adoption.”

  “Well, we’ll see how it goes tonight and take it from there,” Mom said. She turned to Lizzie. “And don’t forget: you’re in charge of him.”

  “I promise,” Lizzie said. This time it really was a promise. She was eager to spend more time with Rusty and see what he could learn.

  Now, in the backyard, she smiled as she watched Rusty and Buddy play. This was what he really needed: a chance to run, to have fun, to let loose some of that wild energy. She grinned as she saw him shake off, sprawl into a play bow with his paws outstretched, then take off again with Buddy chasing after him. She had a feeling Rusty would sleep well that night, with all the running and wrestling.

  But Rusty surprised her. Even after all that fun, the red pup seemed full of mischief. Back in the house, he was into everything. First he pulled every single toy out of Buddy’s toy basket. Then he started dragging the couch pillows onto the floor. He got into the dog food, spilled a water dish all over the kitchen floor, shredded a magazine Mom had left on the coffee table, and stole the Bean’s special blankie. “Rusty, no!” Lizzie kept saying as she followed him around.

  Rusty really was a handful. But that night, he curled up on Lizzie’s bed, put his head on her belly, and gazed up at her adoringly as she stroked his silky ears.

  That was the most fun day ever! I’m really glad we’re pals.

  Her heart melted. He wasn’t a bad dog — in fact, he was one of the sweetest pups she’d ever met. He couldn’t help that he was just bursting with energy and high spirits. “Aw, Rusty,” she said. “My pal.”

  * * *

  The next morning, when Mom dropped Lizzie and Rusty off at Caring Paws, she reminded Lizzie that they’d agreed to take Rusty for only a night to see how it went. “If he’s too much for you, I’m sure Ms. Dobbins will understand.”

  Lizzie shook her head. “I can handle him. I want Rusty to stay with us until we find the perfect new owner for him,” she said. “Gotta take care of my pal!” She
kissed her mom good-bye, hopped out of the car, and led Rusty into Caring Paws.

  Lizzie did not need Aunt Amanda to translate what Rusty was saying when she put him back into his kennel that morning. He looked up at her with big, sad eyes. He held one ear out at a pitiful angle, while the other drooped. His tail drooped even more. He slowly lifted a paw, as if to wave a sad good-bye. Rusty’s whole body was speaking to Lizzie.

  What? You’re not really leaving me here, are you? I thought we were pals.

  Lizzie swallowed back a lump of guilt. “I’ll see you soon,” she told him. “Remember? You’re my Pet Pal. And you’ll come home with me again tonight and hang out with Buddy and Charles and the Bean, and — ”

  “Lizzie, we’re starting,” called Ms. Dobbins from the door to the dog area. She stepped in for a moment to see Rusty. “Aww, he’s really working it, isn’t he? Only a dog can make you feel that guilty.”

  Lizzie nodded, swallowing again. She gave Rusty one last scratch through the wire mesh, then followed Ms. Dobbins to the meeting room.

  The morning went by fast, with crafting time (they made scratch pads for the shelter cats and kittens), games (animal tag and another round of Obedience School), and snack. Lizzie enjoyed herself, but she never stopped thinking about Rusty.

  Finally, it was Pet Pal time. Lizzie practically ran to the kennels, and she and Rusty had a happy reunion. Again, she took him out alone to the dog yard so he could run. Then everyone else came out and it was time for leash walking. Lizzie was prepared with extra-tasty treats and everything she remembered from what Aunt Amanda had shown her.

  Ms. Dobbins was impressed. “He’s doing so much better already,” she said. “I knew you’d be the perfect pal for Rusty.”

  After leash walking, the campers spent some time learning how to groom their dog pals. Ms. Dobbins handed out brushes and combs and explained the best ways to get rid of shed hair and undo a knot from a long coat. She walked around to each Pet Pal pair in turn, helping the campers work with their dogs. “One of our vet techs is going to demonstrate proper toenail clipping tomorrow,” she told them, “on Meet the Vet Day. You’ll also see how the vet gives an injection and how they do stitches.”