by Betsy Sachs
“Where’s Howard today?” she asked as Billy came in.
Billy shrugged his shoulders. Howard’s name made him feel bad again.
“Something wrong?”
“I won’t be able to bring treats anymore.”
“Oh?”
“I lost my allowance.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, me and Howard got in trouble.”
“I see,” she said.
“We were playing with the Rosas’ garage opener. Mrs. Rosa didn’t like us giving Howard’s baby brother rides on the garage door.”
Dr. Mike put a hand over her mouth. She made a funny noise. Was she laughing? Billy wasn’t sure.
“Did it break?”
“Yeah. And I have to help pay with my allowance. So I won’t have money for treats.”
“I see,” she said. “Well, I’ll tell you what. You come every day, and I’ll get the dog biscuits.”
“Oh, wow!”
“Maybe I could even pay you. But I’d have to check with your parents.”
“Ah.” Billy frowned. “They’re kinda mad at me. Don’t call right now, okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
Billy smiled. He wanted to be a vet just like Dr. Mike.
“It helps me a lot if you run the strays. I have so much to do with the regular dogs. I don’t have much time for the strays.”
Dr. Mike stopped in front of a cage. Inside was a stocky dog with short white hair and a stumpy tail. He had a brown-and-black patch around one eye. “Here’s the stray the police found. I have to check him over before he can mix with the other dogs. I’m sure someone will claim him. He’s no mutt.”
“He’s beautiful.” Billy dug in his pocket for the last little piece of biscuit.
“Don’t,” said Dr. Mike. “Not until I’m sure he’s okay.”
The dog wagged his tail. He barked at Billy.
“Out you go now,” said Dr. Mike. “I’ll have the treats tomorrow.”
5
When Billy got home, his grandparents’ van was parked in the driveway.
“Well, hello there, darling!” his grandmother called from the porch. She was holding the baby in her lap.
Sarah had yellow food all over her face. There was some in her hair, too.
“Hiya, Nana.” Billy came up the steps.
His grandfather pushed the screen door open with his cane. “We’ve been waiting for you,” he called. He had on his cowboy hat.
“Hi, Grandpa.”
“Come give me a kiss, Billy,” his grandmother said.
Billy leaned over his grandmother. He kissed her on the cheek. She smelled funny. He backed away.
No, Billy thought, Nana didn’t smell bad. It was Sarah. Yucky babies!
“What about me?” said Grandpa Stewie.
Billy grabbed his grandfather around the waist and squeezed hard. Grandpa Stewie whispered, “I have a big favor to ask you.”
Billy looked up. He waited, but Grandpa Stewie just winked.
“It’s time for supper,” his mother yelled from the kitchen. “Go wash up, Billy.”
Billy went into the downstairs bathroom and turned on the water. His hands smelled like dogs. It was a good smell. Billy decided not to use soap. Maybe then the smell would stay.
He dangled his fingers under the water. Little rivers of dirt ran down the sink. He shook his hands to dry them.
What did his grandfather want him to do? Last time he visited, Billy kept him company while he smoked cigars in the backyard. Billy’s mother wouldn’t let Grandpa Stewie smoke in the house.
“Billy.” His grandfather rapped on the door. “Did you fall in?”
Billy laughed. He pictured a little person swimming in circles in the toilet. “Glub, glub, glub!” he yelled, and opened the door.
Grandpa Stewie leaned on his cane. “Billy,” he said. “Will you go get the paper for me at the general store while we’re here?”
“I’m not allowed to cross the highway by myself.”
“If I drive, would you run into the store?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“Is that the favor?”
“Yes.”
“That’s easy,” Billy said. He wondered why his grandpa had made a big deal over such a little thing.
6
Billy’s grandparents stayed a whole week. Every day Billy and Grandpa Stewie went out for the paper.
On Saturday it was cool and breezy. Grandpa Stewie rolled down the windows in the van. As they were driving along, he said, “You’re doing a good job, you know.”
“I am?”
“Sure! Getting the paper for me like this each day.”
“It’s no big deal. It only takes a second to run in.”
All of a sudden Billy thought Grandpa Stewie looked sad. Billy didn’t know what to do. Finally he asked, “What’s the matter, Grandpa?”
The old man shook his head. In a low voice he said, “I don’t like talking about this. Sometimes my legs hurt so much, they don’t want to walk me around. Not even to get the paper.”
This time Billy kept quiet. He really didn’t know what to say. He felt bad for his grandfather.
“Your getting the paper really helps me. From now on I want you to keep the change as pay.”
“But I could just do it. For free. I like doing stuff with you.”
“You don’t hate money, do you?”
“No. I like it.” Billy laughed.
“So keep the change, then.”
“All right.” Then Billy thought of something funny. “Now I get paid in money from you and in dog biscuits from Dr. Mike.”
“That sounds fine.”
“Could we stop at Dr. Mike’s? We go right by.”
“Just point the way.”
Grandpa Stewie pulled into Dr. Mike’s parking lot. He turned off the engine. Billy jumped out. “Hey, wait for me,” Grandpa Stewie called after Billy. “My legs feel like walking today.”
Billy watched Grandpa Stewie make his way up the path. His grandfather did walk slowly, as if his legs really hurt. Billy led him around to the side of the house where the dogs were fenced in. Grandpa Stewie sat down on a bench in the sun.
“Dr. Mike?” Billy called through the screen door. The hall was dark inside. He couldn’t see anything. “Are you in there?”
Billy heard footsteps coming. Then Dr. Mike called, “Good morning.” She was carrying a box of dog treats.
“Hi,” Billy said as she stepped outside. “My grandfather’s here.”
“How do you do?” Dr. Mike put the box on the ground. She extended her hand. Grandpa Stewie used his cane to push himself up. “Oh, don’t get up.” She sat beside him. “Billy tells me you’re visiting.”
“For his birthday.”
“Billy!” She turned to him. “I didn’t know it was your birthday.”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
Dr. Mike smiled at him. To his grandfather she said, “Has Billy told you how much he’s been helping me?”
Billy didn’t want to stand around while they talked about him. It made him feel funny. He grabbed the box of dog treats and began to fill his pockets with them. “I’m going to take care of the dogs now,” he said.
The new white stray was out in the yard with the other dogs. He jumped against the fence when Billy opened the gate.
“Hey, there.” The stray licked Billy’s hand. “How you doing, doggie?”
The stray waited while Billy splashed water into the bowls. Then he trotted along with Billy.
“Are you dogging me, dog?” Billy laughed. He made it across the field without spilling any water.
The other dogs gathered around Billy. They whined and begged for treats. The white stray sat quietly. He kept his eyes on Billy.
“Here, fella.” Billy tossed him a biscuit. Only then did he stop watching Billy and begin to chew.
When Billy moved away, the white stray followed him again. Billy leaned against a tre
e and watched the other dogs settle down for their morning snooze. The stray leaned against Billy’s leg.
Billy looked down at him. He was such a great dog. “Listen,” he whispered. “I know someone must own you. But I really want to take you home.”
The stray barked. He put a paw on Billy’s leg. “Shush,” said Billy. “Not so loud. I don’t want the other dogs to know.”
The stray whimpered. He barked again softly.
Billy broke a biscuit in two. He and the dog each ate half of a chicken-cheese-flavored treat.
“You need a name,” he said. “Something that really goes with you.”
The stray seemed to understand what Billy was saying. He wagged his tail.
Grandpa Stewie tooted the horn. The stray followed Billy back to the gate.
Dr. Mike came out as Billy was leaving. “See you tomorrow. Say so long to your grandfather.”
“Yup.” Billy started down the walk. Then he turned around. “Dr. Mike, has anyone called about the new stray?”
She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure someone will, though. He’s an expensive dog.”
“I hope they don’t.”
“Remember our rule: Don’t get too attached. He might be gone tomorrow.”
“I know.” Billy sighed.
“Let’s just see what happens, okay?”
“Okay.” Billy took a long look at the stray and slipped him one last biscuit through the fence.
7
That afternoon Billy sat on the kitchen steps. The sun beat down. The heat made it hard to think about a good dog name.
Through the open door he could hear his mother in the kitchen. She was talking to his grandfather. “Are you sure you can manage, Dad?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “Have a good time at the mall.”
“Sarah should sleep until we get back. I don’t think you’ll have any problems.”
Mrs. Getten came outside. “Help Grandpa if he needs it, Billy.” She started down the walk.
“Okay.”
Mrs. Getten turned around. “I mean it, Billy. Don’t just disappear.”
“I won’t.”
Billy stood up so his grandmother could pass by him. “See you later, darling,” she said.
Grandpa Stewie came out and sat on the porch. The crickets chirped in the grass.
Billy could hear laughing and screaming. The little kids next door were playing under the sprinkler.
“Cat got your tongue?” asked Grandpa Stewie.
“What?”
“That means you seem quiet.”
“Oh,” Billy said. “I wish the new dog at Dr. Mike’s was mine.”
“He does seem to have taken a shine to you.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, start saving your money, if you want a dog.”
“You mean like for food and stuff?”
“Shots, leashes. Dogs are expensive.”
“You think if I had lots of money, Mom and Dad would let me have a dog?”
“Money is only part of it.”
“What else?”
“You have to take care of a dog. All the time, every day. Like you would a baby.”
“I take care of dogs every day.”
“That’s true.” Grandpa Stewie nodded. “Do your parents know how responsible you are about going to Dr. Mike’s?”
“That’s being responsible?”
“Sure.”
“But I’m having fun.”
“You’re allowed to.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You should let your folks know.”
“They’d never believe me.”
“You have to speak up, my boy. Let people know what you’re doing.”
Billy wasn’t sure he could do what his grandfather said. There was something else he needed to know. “You think if Dr. Mike gave me a job, I could buy that dog?”
“You don’t need a job. I bet your parents would get you a dog if you’d just help out.”
“You mean like if I cleaned my room? The boring stuff?”
“Might be boring, but it would show your parents you’re willing to help. Like you do at Dr. Mike’s.”
“But cleaning’s no fun.”
“Being responsible isn’t terrible all the time or fun all the time.”
“Oh,” said Billy.
“Give it a whirl. What have you got to lose?”
“Nothing,” said Billy. “Except my dirty bedroom.”
Inside the house Sarah started to cry.
“Uh-oh,” Grandpa said. “She’s not supposed to do that.”
“My mom lets her cry sometimes.” Sarah’s wailing got louder.
“I don’t know. That doesn’t sound good to me.”
“She might have pooped in her diaper.”
“Do you know how to change her?”
Billy made a face. “Yuck.”
“Well, let’s go see.”
Billy took the stairs two at a time. He opened the baby’s bedroom door and peeked in. Sarah’s face was red. There were tears on her cheeks. Her damp red hair was stuck to her head.
“Hey, Sarah.” She stopped crying the minute she saw Billy.
“It doesn’t smell bad in here,” Billy said over his shoulder. “So I guess she didn’t.”
Grandpa Stewie took a deep breath and leaned on the doorknob. “Good thing. I was leaving town if she did.”
Billy smiled. So he wasn’t the only one who hated dirty diapers.
Sarah held up both hands. She looked at Billy. She made a sound like “Ah. Ah.”
“What does she want?” asked Grandpa Stewie.
“That’s her way of saying she wants to get up.”
“Can you carry her?”
“Yeah. I’m allowed.”
“Let’s bring her downstairs.”
Billy dropped the bars on the crib. He picked up Sarah. She weighed about the same as a good-size puppy.
Grandpa Stewie started down the hall. Billy and Sarah followed. “I’m glad you’re here,” Grandpa said. “I hate to admit it, but I could never have managed the stairs and a squirmy baby all by myself.”
Billy didn’t know what to say. His grandfather’s words made him feel really good. Maybe being responsible wasn’t so terrible after all.
8
Billy and Sarah followed Grandpa Stewie into the kitchen.
“Maybe she’s hungry,” Billy said. He strapped Sarah into her high chair.
Grandpa Stewie opened the refrigerator. “Think she’d like a beer?”
“Grandpa!” Billy laughed. “She can’t have that!”
“Oh, I know.”
Billy stood beside his grandfather. “See that little jar with green stuff? That’s hers.”
Billy got a spoon and put the baby food in a bowl. He sat in front of Sarah’s high chair, like his mother did.
He put some mashed pea on the spoon. He tried to put some in Sarah’s mouth.
She made a face. “Poo. Poo.”
“No,” said Billy. “Not poo-poo. Food, Sarah. Food.”
“Poo. Poo,” said Sarah.
“Open wide,” Grandpa Stewie said. He opened his mouth and wagged his tongue at her.
“Ahh,” Billy said with his mouth wide open too.
Sarah smiled. She opened her mouth.
Billy put the spoon in her mouth. “That was easy.”
Sarah made a face. She spit pea all over Billy.
“Oh, yuckers!” Billy wiped his face on his T-shirt.
He tasted Sarah’s food. “This stuff is gross. No wonder she hates it.”
Grandpa Stewie opened the refrigerator again. “How about something to drink? Your mother said her cup had juice in it.”
“Yeah, okay.” Billy left the bowl sitting on Sarah’s tray.
He gave the plastic cup with the top on it to Sarah. She knew how to hold it in her fat hands. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as she swallowed.
Billy took a deep breath. “That mu
st be what she wanted.”
He leaned back in the chair, watching his baby sister. She was okay, he thought. Not as great as a dog, but okay, sort of.
“Good work, son.” His grandfather sat near Sarah’s high chair.
“Thanks.”
Sarah threw her cup on the floor. She smiled at Grandpa Stewie.
“Ba. Ba.” She pointed to it.
Grandpa Stewie leaned over. As he was picking up the cup, Sarah grabbed a handful of mashed pea. She flung it across the room.
“No!” shouted Billy. A blob of mashed pea landed on Grandpa Stewie.
“Stop, Sarah!” Billy yelled. She threw another handful.
There was food all over Sarah’s face, and all over Billy, too. The floor was covered with green plops.
“Mom’s going to kill me!”
Grandpa Stewie burst out laughing. “This reminds me of when your mother was young. She did the same thing. All the time.”
“My mother!” Billy couldn’t believe it.
Grandpa Stewie chuckled. “She was the messiest of all the kids.”
Billy wiped the floor. He tried to imagine his mother as a baby. Grandpa Stewie held Sarah while Billy cleaned off her high chair.
Billy washed Sarah’s face with a cloth. She giggled and wrapped her hand around his finger. She tried to put it in her mouth.
“I think she’s still hungry,” Billy said.
“You know, I have this funny feeling she’s teething.”
Gently Billy put his finger into her mouth. He checked her gums the way he did the puppies at Dr. Mike’s. “Hey, I feel a tooth!”
“Got a cracker or something she can suck on?”
Billy looked in the cabinets. “How about a chocolate-chip cookie?”
“Nope. It’s got to be a biscuit or something hard.”
Billy laughed. “I have dog biscuits.”
“Give her one,” Grandpa Stewie said.
“Really? You think it’s okay?”
“I don’t see why not. You eat them.”
Billy handed Sarah a dog-bone-shaped biscuit. She put it in her mouth.
“She looks great.” Billy laughed. “She’s getting to be as good as a dog.”
“Would you take her?” Grandpa Stewie asked. “My leg is starting to hurt.”
Billy picked her up. “Good Sarah,” he said. He brushed his lips against her hair. She smelled like a warm puppy.
