What—he ate a stick? Will the guy eat just about anything? Like those chewy fruity treats?
Hattie hops off the bench. “Ready?” she says to June, setting me down.
As June pushes Lucky off and grabs his leash, Hattie turns to Marcus. “Maybe,” she mutters. Then we head out the gate.
All the way back to the clearing, Hattie and June chatter about “yoon-ih-corns” again. It’s good to have my calm, happy Hattie back. That Marcus is nothing but trouble. No wonder she was so worried when he showed up.
When we get to our campsite, June and Lucky head across to join Waddling Lady, who’s pouring drinks from a thermos. Hattie waves after them. “See-ya,” she calls.
Hattie rushes to the wooden table, and I leap onto the bench, my nose going nuts. Sniff, sniff . . . pretzels. “I’ll take one of those!” I bark, reaching my nose toward them.
Hattie pulls me into her arms. “No-no-no!”
Food Lady and Muffin Lady are seated across from each other holding cards out like fans. They’re completely engrossed, like they’re watching for an evil squirrel to make its move.
Hattie stuffs a pretzel into her mouth. “Cah-new-trip,” she says to the tall humans.
“Mmm-hmm,” Food Lady says, picking up a card from the pile.
Just then, Angel comes sprinting over. Under her cap, her eyes and cheeks are grinning. The sun glitters on something metal that swings from a string around her neck.
“Whoa!” Hattie says, trying to grab it. I hear a rattling sound from inside the metal. It sounds familiar. “Cool-wiss-el!”
Angel laughs and swats Hattie’s hand away. “Safe-tee,” she says. She puts it up to her lips and blows. Tweet-tweeeeet!
Yow! I try to bury my head in Hattie’s shirt. Is that thing ever loud!
Food Lady must not mind the piercing noise. She says a whole bunch of words to Hattie in a warning voice. I hear “safe-tee” a few more times.
Hattie nods a lot and smiles at Angel. They slap hands.
Then Food Lady gets up from the table holding a can, and I turn my head. It’s the spray that makes me choke!
That’s my cue. I leap out of Hattie’s arms. As I land in the dirt, little clouds of dust swirl up around me.
I scamper a safe distance away. Hattie turns all the way around, Food Lady spraying her arms and legs and the back of her neck.
Ew! Even from here, that stench is horrible! It makes no sense that Food Lady coats Hattie in dog repellant before she goes outside after supper or here in the woods. Doesn’t she know that Hattie needs me to keep her safe? Between the wild animals and that troublemaker Marcus, I can’t let her out of my sight.
Muffin Lady fills the water bottles again while the short humans chatter excitedly. It sure seems like she and Angel are getting ready to go somewhere, and I’m getting a terrible feeling about it.
The feeling gets worse when at the next campsite over, I see Swirly-Arm Lady stuff Coco into Hot Dog Man’s backpack and call, “Bye!” to Marcus. As they head into the woods, Marcus grabs a water bottle and hurries toward us.
I stand my ground. “Oh, no, you don’t!” I bark as he rushes up. “If you think you’re going somewhere with Hattie, you’ll have to get through me!”
“Wah!” he cries, his eyes bulging for a moment before he bursts out laughing. He sidesteps me and charges up to Hattie and Angel. “Ready?” he asks.
“Ready!” Hattie and Angel say at the same time.
What? I knew something like this would happen. I scamper over and run circles around Marcus’s feet. Instead of sneakers, he’s wearing rubbery sandals. “Stay away from my short human,” I snarl.
“Fenway, stop!” Hattie scoops me up. She hands me to Fetch Man as he comes out of the tent.
I wiggle and kick. “Let me go!” I bark, but Fetch Man tightens his grip.
“Have fun!” Food Lady calls as the short humans head away from the clearing.
“Are you nuts?” I bark, squirming in Fetch Man’s arms. “That guy is trouble. And now Hattie doesn’t have her protector!”
I keep up the warnings and protests, but it’s no use. Fetch Man clips on my leash and ties me to the table leg. This is the Worst Thing Ever! Hattie is gone, and I’m stuck here with the tall humans. Trapped and doing nothing. I can’t even use the opportunity to sniff for clues about the stolen food.
I sink down on my belly and moan. My gaze drifts across the campsite. June emerges from the pointy tent, her long braid dangling over her shoulder. Her book under her arm, she strides up to our campsite.
Food Lady looks up. “Hey, June,” she says, smiling.
June looks puzzled. I hear her ask something about Hattie.
“Oh,” Food Lady says, her expression falling. “Cah-new-trip.”
Now June’s face is the one that falls. “Oh.” Her tone is sad. So is her scent. Is she just as disappointed as I am that Hattie left?
June rushes back and disappears inside her tent like she’s being chased. Lucky and Hammock Man bound out seconds later. Hammock Man has that bandanna around his head again. He grabs Lucky’s leash, and they take off into the woods the way they did the other day.
Well, this stinks. Hattie’s in a dangerous situation without her loyal dog to watch out for her. Marcus is probably going to jump out of a tree again and scare her. Or chant her name and make her feel worried. Maybe I haven’t spotted the wild animals, but I sure can spot Marcus. He’s just as much of a threat to my short human!
Food Lady walks around the table, and I spring into action. “Please!” I bark, leaping and twirling. “We have to find Hattie. Before it’s too late!”
“FEN-way,” she snaps.
My tail droops. But then Fetch Man appears and takes the leash. “Wanna go for a walk?” he says.
“Haven’t you been listening?” I bark, jumping on his legs. “Yes, I want to go for a walk!”
Right then, the ladies saunter up with Tool Man and Muffin Lady. My ears shoot up. Whoopee! Do they have the same idea?
“Calm down, Fenway,” Goldie says as we start to head out of the clearing. “You’re acting like you’ve never gone on a walk before.”
“Who could blame him?” Patches says in her gentle voice. “The pond is awfully exciting.”
I give my head a shake. “Did you say we’re going to the pond?” My mind fills with images of picnics with Nana and games of fetch in the grass. Under other circumstances, those are a lot of fun. But right now, all I care about is finding Hattie. Is she at the pond?
Birds chirp overhead as we make our way down the dirt road. “The pond is where the canoes are,” Patches explains as we walk around a pile of acorns. “Our precious Angel loves floating on the water. Last year, she paddled around the pond for most of one afternoon!”
My fur tingles. Is Hattie in the water? A twig snaps under my brown paw. Suddenly, I remember something. “So, ladies! I’ve got a theory about Lucky.”
Goldie cocks her head. “What is it?”
“At the Dog Park,” I say, practically hopping on the pine needles as the words fly out of my mouth. “He ate a stick!”
The ladies exchange glances. Patches looks away first. “So?”
It figures the ladies are slow to catch on. They don’t put clues together the way I do. They are not professionals.
“I know you don’t think Lucky stole those yucky treats, but if he likes eating sticks, he’d probably eat anything.”
“Look, we’re here!” Goldie announces as we arrive at the field. Up ahead, I see a pond with a little house beside it. Way off to one side, I can just make out the Dog Park.
“Fenway, wait until you see this,” Patches says. We head through the soft grass to the edge of the water.
My tail starts to wag hopefully when the tall humans mention Hattie and Angel. Apparently, they want to find them, too. Thank goo
dness they listened to me!
I pull to a stop in the wet sand before tiny waves can lap onto my paws. My head swivels. “Where’s Hattie?”
Patches points her snout toward the water. “Out there,” she says. “See those canoes?”
I stretch as far as I can on the leash, squinting. A bunch of boats—canoes?—are out on the pond. Is Hattie in one of them?
“Listen,” Goldie says.
Come to think of it, my ears are picking up a lot of whooping and hollering. I do hear Hattie’s voice. Angel’s, too. Are they nearby?
“There!” Fetch Man says, pointing.
Food Lady shields her eyes. Muffin Lady and Tool Man do, too. “Hattie!” Food Lady calls, hopping on her toes and waving.
Muffin Lady does the same, only she cries, “Angel!”
I stand taller, my tail wagging with excitement. Because on the canoe closest to us, two short humans are waving back. It’s Hattie and Angel!
Whew. My Hattie looks cheerful. And not in any danger at all.
“Our Angel is in her happy place,” Patches says proudly. “She loves canoeing.”
I keep my eyes on my short human as she and Angel float on the water in their puffy vests. They each hold some sort of stick that pokes into the water. It all looks perfectly safe and harmless. The other boats are not anywhere near them.
We gaze out on the water for a while, the tall humans chattering away. Until I notice another canoe gaining speed. My fur starts to prickle. Am I imagining things? Or is that other boat heading for Hattie and Angel?
I watch for a few moments to make sure. Then my hackles shoot up. In the other canoe, two short humans wear pointy, papery hats that flutter in the breeze. As they get closer to Hattie and Angel, I can hear them growling. “AARGH!” they cry, raising their sticks out of the water.
The girls must be scared the boat is going to ram into them because Angel’s hand flies to her mouth. Hattie lets out a shriek. Oh no! They’re scared and in trouble!
I lunge out as far as I can, my paws splashing in the water. “Hang on, Hattie!” I bark. “I’ll save you!”
“FEN-way!” Fetch Man scolds, tugging me back.
“AARGH!” a boy growls again. He dips the end of his stick in the water, then sweeps it up, water spraying on Hattie and Angel.
“Hey!” they scream, ducking their heads.
“Yo-ho-ho!” one of the boys yells. His voice sounds familiar. Marcus?
Uh-oh! I knew Hattie was in danger. I take a few steps back, then spring ahead with all my might. Splash! The leash pulls free from Fetch Man’s grip. At last!
I charge into the water. “Don’t worry, Hattie! I’m coming!”
Water seeps into my fur, cold and wet. It splashes into my eyes, my nose, my ears. But I can’t focus on any of that. I have a job to do! Nothing matters except saving My Hattie from that troublemaker Marcus.
My paws can’t grip the mushy sand anymore. They’re still scrambling, but instead of the ground, they push against water. What a weird feeling!
Only my head is above the surface. I look around. Water is everywhere! I spy two canoes straight ahead. And the good news is I’m moving toward them. Somehow I’m running. In the water!
The short humans’ heads are turned in my direction. Under their pointy, papery hats, Marcus’s and the other boy’s faces look confused. The very sight of me must intimidate them because they stop splashing water on Hattie and Angel. They stop saying, “AARGH!” Their mouths are open but not making sounds.
Hattie’s face is shocked. “Fenway?” she cries.
I’m coming! I’m coming! I want to bark, but as soon as I open my mouth, water splashes in. Ew! I spit and gag a few times. But I can’t stop now. I’m almost there! I will my legs to keep pushing forward.
“FEN-way!” Hattie screams. The canoe pivots and starts heading toward me. Angel pushes her stick into the water. Hattie reaches hers out toward me. “FEN-way! FEN-way!” she keeps yelling.
The more I cough, the more I hear “FEN-way! FEN-way!” Dogs barking, too. Why is everybody suddenly calling my name? Or is the water playing tricks on my ears?
I move my legs harder and faster. Whew! I’m getting tired, but I can’t slow down. I’m not far from Hattie. Thank goodness I broke away from Fetch Man in the nick of time. Hattie looks upset. Clearly, she needs me!
She leans over the side of the canoe, thrusting that stick farther and farther. I can almost reach it.
I muster what energy I have left and heave myself onto the wide part of the stick. Right then, a bunch of things happen at once.
Somebody screams, “Hattie!”
The piercing sound comes quicker and more urgent than before—Tweet-tweet-tweeeeeet!
Thwoosh! My head plunges under the water.
A loud splash, then a strong surge of water pushes me farther down. Painful water rushes up my nostrils. Bubbles tickle my whiskers. A leg kicks me.
In the next instant, I feel hands around my body. I shoot upward, breaking the water’s surface. Gagging and spitting, I struggle to take in cool, fresh air. My whole face hurts. The bright sun shining on the water nearly blinds me. I shake my head.
When my eyes refocus, I see Hattie’s head bobbing next to me. Her hair is wet and matted. Drops of water cling to her eyebrows, her eyelashes. She clutches me under one arm, the other paddling in the water.
I cough and cough, shaking my head some more. Owwww, does it ever ache! Who knew that water was so painful?
The canoe glides up beside us, graceful as a duck. Angel leans over, her face concerned. “You okay?” she asks.
Before Hattie can answer, the other canoe starts to head off in the opposite direction. I hear, “AARGH!” followed by fits of laughter. Obviously, I frightened them away. But what’s so funny?
Grabbing me tight, Hattie kicks her legs, and we push through the water away from the canoe. Did my heroics convince her to come back to shore?
Probably! Because we’re almost there. Everyone looks worried and agitated but glad to see us. Even Goldie and Patches.
In the shallow water, Hattie gets to her feet and walks the rest of the way. She carries me to the sand, my leash hanging, dripping. She’s soaked. So am I. I’m dying to shake myself off, but that’ll have to wait. Saving her is way more important than my comfort.
Fetch Man and Food Lady rush over, nearly out of breath, even though they only run a couple of steps. “Oh my!” Food Lady cries.
Fetch Man takes me from Hattie and sets me in the grass. “FEN-way,” he scolds, shaking a finger at me.
What’s his problem? Isn’t he happy that I saved Hattie? I look away and give myself a good shake. Water sprays all over him, and he jumps back, frowning.
Is he upset that I got hurt? I was only doing my duty. I shiver. Hey, when did the air get so cold?
As we hang out on the shore, you’d think everybody would be congratulating me. Hattie’s arms wrapped around her chest, she leans into Food Lady, who keeps patting her sopping wet hair. She smells fishy and angry and something else. Embarrassed? Marcus must’ve really upset her. Still, you’d think she’d be relieved. Not to mention grateful that I rescued her from that bully.
She must still be in shock because she hasn’t even thanked me.
“You can’t help it, Fenway,” Patches says in a soothing voice. “When it comes to Hattie, you tend to go a little overboard.”
“Now that you mention it,” Goldie says. “You have done some nutty things in the name of protecting your short human.”
I thrust out my chest, my wet tail high and proud. “Just doing my job.”
Goldie stares at me for a moment, like she’s thinking. Then she says, “Have you ever thought you might go too far sometimes?”
“Now, Goldie,” Patches says. “Fenway’s intentions are good.”
Before I can a
sk what that means, Angel comes charging over. She looks as flustered as everyone else. After a few rushed words and pats on the back, we all head to the path in the pine trees.
The walk back to the clearing is quiet. Being unappreciated by my humans is one thing. But by my friends? What’s up with that? I thought we came to the woods to make friends, not lose them.
When we get back, the ladies follow Tool Man and Muffin Lady over to their campsite by the big oak tree. I give myself another shake, but it doesn’t make me feel better.
And speaking of not feeling better, Hattie squats down in front of me. She’s traded the puffy vest for a big plush towel. A wet lock of hair is matted against her forehead. “FEN-way,” she scolds, wagging a finger. I don’t know what she says after that, but she keeps on using that “you’re in trouble” voice.
My tail droops and I take a step back, my heart breaking into hundreds of little pieces. Why is Hattie mad? What did I do? I was only trying to save her. Who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there?
Fetch Man comes at me with another plush towel. He smells mad, too. Normally, I love cozy towel rubs, especially from Hattie. But the whole time Fetch Man rubs me down, he talks to me in a scolding voice. Talk about taking the fun out of something.
And worse, when he’s done, he ties my leash around the bench. I look around the clearing. Hattie disappears inside the tent. Except for the buzzing of insects, it’s strangely silent. Apparently, Coco and her humans aren’t back from hiking in the woods. Since the pine tree June usually sits under is empty, I’m guessing she’s inside her tent with Waddling Lady.
Goldie and Patches are already curled up napping. Angel sits on the bench, changing her shoes. Tool Man and Muffin Lady drink from paper cups.
Sudden rustling sounds—no, footsteps and jingling dog tags—pull my attention to the trees. Hammock Man and Lucky trot into the clearing. They’re both breathing hard. Lucky’s tongue lolls to the side. Hammock Man takes off his bandanna and mops his brow with it.
I sink to the ground, my ears wilted along with my spirits. I give my paw a lick, even though that’s not the part of me that hurts. I’m about to close my eyes and try to sleep off my sadness when Angel lets out a wail.
Fenway and Hattie in the Wild Page 8
