“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM,” I wailed.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Mom said grimly.
We pulled into our driveway, and Mom ran inside to get cleaning supplies.
“Help me!” I said to Danny.
He shrugged. “I thought you said she was your dog.”
“Danny, take the dog into the backyard,” my dad said.
Danny made a face, but he lifted the towel and the puppy off of me. Holding them out at arm’s length, he carried them around the house and into the backyard.
Mom made me clean up the car seat — she said we needed to learn that taking care of a puppy meant lots of cleaning. I didn’t like the sound of that too much. I thought a poodle would be naturally clean and pretty and neat. On the other hand, at least having a tiny dog meant there was only a tiny amount to clean up. I consoled myself that this would have been much, much more gross with a Rottweiler.
“Come on, kid,” Dad said to me when I was done. “I’ll spray you off in the backyard.”
I ran around the house while he pulled out the hose. Carlos had come outside, too, and was standing with Danny and Miguel. They were all looking down at something and laughing, which is usually a bad sign with my brothers.
“What’s so funny?” I said, coming through the back gate. Then Buttons’ head popped up from behind a small pink azalea bush. Her face and paws were covered in dirt. It looked like she had been trying to dig her way to New Zealand.
“RUFF!” she announced gleefully and barreled over to me.
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said, backing up. “You already ruined this shirt — leave my jeans alone!”
But it was too late. Buttons jumped up and planted her tiny paws on my legs. She scrabbled and leaped like she was trying to climb me, squeaking excitedly. Her sweet little ears flapped and her nose went poke poke poke against my knee. My jeans were instantly patterned with little brown paw prints.
Then Dad hit me with a huge blast of water from behind. I shrieked and Buttons went wild with excitement. She galloped around in a frenzy, leaping at the water drops and toppling over and skidding on the wet grass with her tiny paws.
“DAD!” I hollered. “You’re going to get her ALL WET!”
But it was too late.
By the time Dad turned off the hose, I was dripping wet, while Buttons was dripping wet and all muddy. She looked absolutely thrilled. When Dad dropped the hose, Buttons bounced over and tried to attack the end. She went “Rrrrr! Rrrr!” and pounced on it and tried to sink her little teeth into the rubber. Then she jumped back, circled it, and tried to attack it from the other side.
“Stop laughing at her!” I snapped at the boys.
“We’re not,” Danny said innocently. “We’re laughing at you.”
Luckily Mom came out through our sliding glass doors before I could shove him into an azalea bush. She brought a big orange beach towel for me and a little blue-and-white-striped one for Buttons. We had to chase Buttons around for a while but finally we caught her, wrapped her up, and carried her inside to the downstairs guest bathroom. She looked seriously confused when we put her in the sink. She kept crawling to the edge and peeking over like she thought perhaps she could fly down to the ground. I stayed right next to her to make sure she didn’t try it.
Mom brought me the puppy shampoo we’d bought that morning when we got supplies for the new dog. I couldn’t wait to put the new sparkly pink collar on Buttons. But I had to get her clean first.
Mom and I poured water on her, making sure not to get any in her ears — Mom said she remembered that from the dogs she had growing up. Rivers of muddy water ran off of Buttons and down the sink. When she was soaking wet she looked even tinier because her fur was plastered to her little body. She didn’t like it very much either. She kept wriggling and yipping and trying to take a nosedive out of the sink. I was glad Mom was there to help me keep her still.
“You are a munchkin,” Mom said to Buttons in this cute baby-talk voice. “Yes, you are. You’re a munchkin.” The puppy’s wet tail scooted back and forth and splattered me in the face. She beamed at us with her mouth wide open.
I couldn’t decide what I thought of Buttons. She wasn’t the Princess I had pictured. And this was already a lot more cleaning than I wanted to add to my life. But she was still pretty cute, and I liked it when she licked my fingers or wagged her tail.
Mom wrapped Buttons in a towel and waited while I changed into the dry clothes she’d brought me. Then we put my wet clothes straight into the washing machine and took Buttons out to the living room.
Oliver was sitting on the couch watching TV. He turned it off when we came in.
“Where’s Miru?” my mom asked, surprised. “I thought you were spending the whole afternoon with her.”
“Yeah,” Oliver said, rubbing his hand through his hair and looking mopey. “She had to go home. She didn’t say why.”
“Oh,” Mom said. “That’s too bad.”
“Well, that’s OK,” I said. “Now you can meet Buttons. Buttons, this is Oliver.” I have to admit, I was kind of hoping Oliver would like Buttons. I figured she’d have the best chance with him, since he’s not quite as annoying as all my other brothers. Sometimes he even lets me play on his computer while he’s doing homework, as long as I’m quiet.
I set the towel-wrapped puppy down on the couch next to him.
“Wow, that is small,” Oliver said, but before he’d even finished the sentence, Buttons was burrowing her way out of the towel. She pushed it away from her with all her paws and started rolling madly on the couch. Her fur was fluffing and spiking out in all directions. Her paws flailed in the air. She spun in a circle, one way and then the other, and then tried to bury her nose in the dark blue cushions.
Suddenly she spotted Oliver and threw herself at his hand. He flipped it over so it was palm up and rubbed her belly as she sprawled across it. She stretched out her paws in both directions and then flopped over sideways so she was pinning his hand down.
“Hmm,” Oliver said noncommittally, but he didn’t take his hand away. I sat on the couch on the other side of Buttons and scratched her tummy and her ears. Her tail swished happily across the blue fabric. And guess what? Not a single hair was left behind. OK, there were a couple of wet patches where she’d rolled vigorously, but at least that was just water.
“What’s Lady McSnooterfluff doing now?” Danny asked, coming into the room.
“Buttons!” I said. “I agreed we could call her Buttons!”
“All right, all right,” Danny said. He hovered beside the arm of the couch, watching Buttons like he wanted to pet her, too, but didn’t want to admit it. Finally he made a weird face and said, “Mom, can I go hang out with Parker and Merlin?”
“Sure, dear,” Mom said. “Be home for dinner, or call me if you won’t be.”
Almost as soon as Danny had clattered out the back door, Carlos appeared in his spot. He also kept staring at Buttons.
“How did your studying go?” I asked sweetly.
“Oh … fine,” he said. “Can she do anything yet?”
“Let’s give her a day to settle in,” Mom said. “We can start training her tomorrow.”
Carlos shifted his feet. His hands twitched like he wanted to pet her, but he eventually shoved them in his pockets and wandered back upstairs.
Buttons was fast asleep by the time Miguel came in. All the excitement of meeting us and throwing up in the car and digging and getting wet and then getting bathed had apparently worn her out. One little ear was flopped back cutely so you could see the pink underside. Her front paws were crossed like she’d just fallen over that way. And she was making this tiny snnzzzz … snnzzzz … sleeping sound with her nose.
This was more like what I had imagined from my dog. Peace and snuggling.
Miguel shook his head. “My reputation will be ruined if anyone sees me with that dog,” he said.
“What reputation?” Oliver said. “The girls at sch
ool don’t even know you’re alive.”
Miguel scowled, which made me think Oliver was probably right. “Well, they’d notice me if I went running by with a big manly dog!” Miguel sputtered.
“A big manly dog wouldn’t fit in the bathroom sink,” Mom pointed out calmly.
“Hrrrmph,” Miguel said, and stalked out of the room.
“Belinda said that Buttons has been pretty good about housebreaking so far,” Mom said to me, “but we have to keep it up by letting her go outside every couple of hours. So keep that in mind when she wakes up.”
“OK,” I said. Mom left us there and went off to get some work done. She owns a clothing boutique in town and she’s always looking online for interesting new designers to include. I think one day I might be a fashion designer. My favorite TV show is Project Runway. My signature style will be that all my clothes will be pink or sparkly … or pink and sparkly!
Oliver turned the TV back on with his free hand and flipped it to a documentary about baby polar bears. He still didn’t move his hand out from under Buttons. I kept petting her. It’s OK to be quiet with just Oliver.
“Girls are weird, Rosie,” Oliver offered during a commercial break, about half an hour later.
“Nuh-uh,” I said. “Boys are weird. There’s this boy a grade below me, Isaac, who is constantly bothering me and stealing my ribbons and making me chase him and it’s so annoying. Why would he do that? Right? Only explanation: weird.”
“He probably likes you,” Oliver said, staring at the TV.
“Ew, gross,” I said, horrified. “He’s nine. And he always has chocolate all over his face. EW. Seriously. Ew.” I paused. Oliver didn’t seem to be listening to me anymore. “You never did that to Miru,” I tried. That got his attention.
“Well, I’m not in fourth grade.” He let out this long-suffering sigh. “And whatever I am doing isn’t working. She doesn’t like me anymore.”
“Did she say that?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I can just tell.” He let his head fall back on the cushions and stared gloomily up at the ceiling.
“Well, do something about it,” I said. “Don’t let her go. She’s probably the coolest girl who’ll ever agree to date you.”
Oliver sighed again. “I know.”
“Rrrrft,” said Buttons. I looked down at her. She had her head raised a little bit and was watching the TV screen. Two polar bear cubs were rolling around in the snow. “Rrruff!” Buttons said again. It was like she wanted to bark but wasn’t sure she really wanted the bear cubs to turn around and notice her. So she settled for a kind of curious half bark. “Rrrruff!”
“She’s watching the TV!” I said, impressed. “Isn’t she clever!”
“I watch a lot of TV, and I’m not very clever,” Oliver said, but he kind of smiled at Buttons.
“Maybe she thinks they look like her,” I said.
She kept her bright black eyes on the polar bear cubs for a while. Finally she scrambled up to her paws and started exploring the couch. Oliver flexed his hand, shook it, and then patted her back as she stuck her nose between the cushions. Her tail went flap flap flap. Now that she was mostly dry, she was back to being fluffy and cute and (mostly) white. Her ears were just a little bit darker than the rest of her, like fuzzy tan caterpillars on either side of the white puffball of her head. Her chest was mostly white, while the rest of her was like honey and milk mixed together, like white with a hint of gold in it. If she could stay that color instead of getting all muddy again, I’d be perfectly happy.
“Stay there, Buttons,” I said, getting up and going over to the bag of stuff we’d bought at the pet store. There was a little thump behind me and I turned around to see that she’d launched herself off the couch. She sat on the carpet blinking and looking dazed for a second, then remembered what she was doing and galloped over to me.
She kind of threw herself over my arm and nearly did a head plant into the shopping bag. I held her back with one hand while I fished her collar out.
“Look how cute!” I said to her. “Pink and sparkly!” She sniffed it dubiously, then grabbed it in her teeth and shook it as hard as she could.
“Shush,” I said, prying open her jaws and getting it back. “It’ll be gorgeous on you, just wait.” I’d really wanted to get some of the little pink jackets and shoes and things I saw in the pet store, but Mom said we should wait and see how big Buttons was first. She said it in that way she does when she’s hoping I’ll get distracted and forget, but it didn’t work when I wanted to be Princess Jasmine from Aladdin for Halloween, and it wasn’t going to work now. I was going to get Buttons into a cute outfit no matter what Mom did or how much the boys whined about it.
For now I would settle for the pink collar, if I could get it on her. Buttons pounced on it and wrestled with it and rolled on it and tried to eat it and basically did everything except sit still to let me put it on her. But finally I got it latched around her neck. She kept turning in circles trying to look at it.
“You look adorable,” I said proudly. “I’ll show you.” I picked her up and carried her out to the full-length mirror at the end of the hallway. I put her down and pointed at the mirror. She jumped on my finger and tried to chew on it. I pulled my hand free, took her between my hands, and pointed her at the mirror.
“RRUFT!” Buttons barked, suddenly spotting her reflection. “RRUFT! RRUFT!” Her little paws motored back and forth but I was still holding her, so they just flailed in space above the carpet. “RRUFT!” Buttons insisted again. She wanted to go play with the dog she could see in the mirror.
Carlos poked his head over the banister. “What’s she doing?”
“Saying hello to herself,” I said. I let go and Buttons leaped down the hall. She bounced up and planted her front paws on the mirror. When the “other dog” did the same thing, she leaped back, spun in a circle, and then crouched with her head down and her butt up in the air.
“That’s a play bow,” Carlos said in that superior, I-know-everything way that he has. “It means she wants to play.”
“Well, duh,” I said.
Buttons stayed that way for a minute. Her tail swayed back and forth. She made this tiny little growl deep in her throat. But the “other dog” didn’t move either. Finally Buttons pounced at the mirror and jumped back again. Then she trotted up and sniffed the glass, jerking away whenever she thought her reflection was getting too close. In the end she tried to poke her nose behind the mirror to find the dog but, of course, there wasn’t anything back there.
“It’s OK, Buttons,” I said. “You can play with me instead.”
Losing interest in the boring mirror dog, Buttons trotted back down the hall, sniffing the carpet intently. Soon she found herself at the sliding glass doors to the backyard. Her ears perked up. A couple of sparrows were hopping around on the lawn. Buttons sat down and stared at them.
“You want to go chase them?” I asked. She looked up at me with her tongue hanging out. Her front paws were planted between her back paws. She was really the cutest pile of fluff when she was clean.
I leaned over her and opened the door. Buttons scrambled out onto the lawn and galloped after the sparrows. I was about to follow her outside when the phone rang.
“Rosie!” Dad called. “It’s for you!”
Our yard has a fence all the way around it, so I knew Buttons would be OK outside for a minute. She was sniffing the lawn intently where the sparrows had been. I ran to get the portable phone.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hey, Rosie.” It was my friend Pippa. She’s kind of the opposite of me in a lot of ways. She’s really pale and really quiet. She has perfectly straight hair down to her waist that is such a pale blond it’s almost white. I wish I could be quiet and sweet like her sometimes but, hello, she doesn’t have any siblings, so she has an advantage. It’s much easier to be quiet and good when you don’t have big hooligans dropping spaghetti in your hair or cutting butt flaps in all your Barbie dresses (tr
ue story).
“Hi, Pippa!” I said. “Guess what?” I didn’t wait for her to guess. It takes eons for Pippa to guess whenever I say that because she thinks for a really long time, although she’d probably come up with the right answer in the end. “We got a dog!” I squealed.
“You did?” Pippa said. “That’s so amazing! What kind?”
“A poodle puppy,” I said. “She’s so cute. You should come over tomorrow and meet her. We can dress her up together.”
“OK!” Pippa said. “I’ll ask my mom.”
I wandered over to the glass doors while we talked. When I peeked outside, I couldn’t see Buttons right away.
“Hang on a sec,” I said. I slid the door open. “Buttons!” I called.
“Aww, that’s the cutest name!” Pippa said. “Buttons. I love it. I wonder if Mr. Pudge will like her.”
I heard a small rrrrrrrrrft from behind that same azalea bush. Then I spotted dirt flying up in the air. Uh-oh.
“BUTTONS!” I yelled.
Her little face popped out. Except now it didn’t look like the cute, clean face I’d let into the yard. Dirt was smudged into her whiskers from one ear to the other. She grinned goofily at me.
It wasn’t even two hours since her last bath, and already she was a muddy mess again!
I told Pippa I’d call her back, and then I went into the yard and chased Buttons with a towel. She loved that. She galloped back and forth, ducking away every time I dropped the towel on her. Then she grabbed one end of the towel in her little teeth and went “Rrrrr! Rrrrr!,” trying to shake it back and forth. Finally I got her wrapped up, but she managed to poke her face out and lick my ear as I carried her inside, which left a trail of dirt down the side of my neck. And when she tried to wriggle free she left more muddy paw prints on my second set of clothes for the day.
“Whoa,” Oliver said, passing me on his way to the kitchen. He could see Buttons’ muddy face and paws sticking out of the towel. “That was fast.”
“Will you help me give her another bath?” I pleaded. “I don’t want to bother Mom again.”
Mud-Puddle Poodle Page 3
