Love Potion Commotion!

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Love Potion Commotion! Page 2

by Danielle Williams


  “Are they here now?”

  Marty grumbled. “He’d be the one to know!”

  “She is‌—‌I mean, they are!”

  “Well, you three,” said the witch, “get to work! Bring him over!”

  Leggo’s tail stopped wagging. “How?”

  “Ugh‌—‌I’ll figure it out,” said Marty. “We’re good, Mom.” He grrroww-ruffed at his brother. Leggo went to his side and trotted away with him. After a second, Freckles dashed to follow.

  Grunting, Vivian pushed herself upright.

  Alanna Lu was jogging up. She grabbed the witch’s arm. “You all right, Auntie? You were down there longer than I thought you’d be!”

  “Just need to do another mile with Leslie. And Leggo got a leaf wedged in his sweater somehow, that dog.”

  “As long as you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine, dearest. Walk me back to the gate, though? Frank should be back soon.”

  They followed the fence back to the entrance. Frank, the witch’s husband, was just closing the gate behind him. “There’s my favorite gals!” He hugged them both. “Where are the boys?”

  “Somewhere around here. Alanna Lu, show him the new shots of Marty we got.”

  She held up her phone and the old man leaned in to see. “Kinda hard to make out with the glare,” he said. “Is that the sweater vest shirt-sleeve thing?”

  The witch leaned in. “Yes it is.”

  “Great work, dearest fashionista.” Frank pecked his wife on the cheek. “It’ll sell like hotcakes!”

  “Well, aren’t you the sweetest thing. But I hope I get some time in between orders. Those sleeves all have to be custom made to order, depending on the breed.”

  “They’ll sell and you’ll handle it.” Frank kissed her again. This time, Vivian went pink.

  Alanna Lu grinned. “Look out, Auntie, or the next thing you know, he’ll be holding your hand in public.”

  “Ohh!”

  “Where are the boys? I see Toby’s back.”

  “They already said hello,” said Vivian. “Toby’s owners took him to England, if you can believe it. Anyway, the boys are probably just showing Freckles around.”

  “Oh, here they come.” Frank frowned. “What’s that in his mouth?”

  Marty was pelting across the dog run in his puffer coat. In hot pursuit after him was a dark-haired man in glasses, followed by an Irish Setter. Freckles kept just ahead of them, occasionally crossing into their paths, keeping the man from building up enough speed to catch up with the stubby-legged bulldog.

  Frank laughed at Marty. “That dog hasn’t run that fast since the year I dropped the Thanksgiving turkey!”

  “Is that his cell phone?” said Alanna Lu. “Oh my gosh!”

  The witch grinned.

  Marty whirled around to face the man. The man bent down, reaching out slowly. His dog, the Setter, circled Marty.

  “Nice fella. Good boy. Drop the phone. Don’t bite down.” The man was kneeling, reaching into a pouch on his belt. “Trade ya‌—‌want a treat?” He pulled out a kibble and offered it to Marty.

  Marty play bowed, then sprang away just as the man’s arm darted out.

  The Frenchie galloped towards Alanna Lu‌—‌

  ‌—‌and came face to face with Leggo. Marty lifted a paw, but his brother stared him down, stiff-legged. He wuffed once, and Marty set the phone down at Alanna Lu’s feet.

  Alanna Lu bent down, picking the device up with two fingers. “Ooh!” She wrinkled her nose. “…‌Well, actually, it’s not as drooly as I feared.”

  “Good thing I got a water-resistant model,” said the man.

  The witch handed a polka-dotted handkerchief to Alanna Lu, who handed it to the man.

  While they were distracted with cleaning his phone, the witch dropped a palmful of treats behind her. Marty, Leggo, and Freckles dove for them.

  “It’s a good thing your dog Leggo was there to stop Marty!” Vivian said to her niece. Alanna Lu threw her aunt a bewildered look, but the man didn’t catch it.

  “I’ll say!” said the man. “I don’t think my insurance covers ‘theft by dog dressed more fashionable than phone’s owner.’”

  Marty grinned.

  “He’s not‌—‌” started Alanna Lu, but her aunt cut in. “I’m Vivian Feng. This is my husband Frank, and you’ve met my great-niece, Alanna Lu Feng.”

  The young man swiped his hands clean with the handkerchief and shook hands all around. “Tom Hsieh‌—‌no relation to the shoe guy.”

  “Of course,” said Alanna Lu.

  “And who is this gorgeous girl?” The witch was kneeling, offering her fist to the setter. Leggo sat close by, beaming up at them.

  “That’s Rhoda,” said Tom. “She’s a pure-bred Irish Setter and a very good girl, yessooare!” He rubbed her ears.

  “She’s beautiful! Has she ever done any modeling?”

  Tom chuckled. “What?”

  Marty’s eyes bulged. “Rrruff?!”

  “Or…‌or…‌whatsagramming?”

  “She means Instagramming,” said Alanna Lu. “Why, Auntie?”

  “Because! She’s perfect for the new line I’m starting.”

  “What line?!” said Alanna Lu.

  “For medium-size breeds, of course!”

  Alanna Lu turned to Frank, sending him an is she serious? look. Frank cupped his chin with his hand, hiding his smile.

  Vivian gently braced against Rhoda to stand. “I’m a doggie fashion designer. I made the coat on the hooligan dog who stole from you. He’ll get away with it, because he’s the face of the brand. But as an apology, I’d like to make your dog some clothes, then have Alanna post them. Rhoda can be the face of my new line. “

  “As advertising?” said the man.

  “The fun kind! We can work out a contract.”

  Tom’s face was shifting, from frown to smile and back again. “You won’t put a skirt on her or anything, will you?”

  “No. Of course not. Well, not unless it looks fabulous on her!”

  Tom laughed. “Well, it might be good for our company. Just, you know, a little added publicity…‌They’re working on an international database for animal shelters. Back-end stuff.”

  “Our account has…‌how many followers, dearest?”

  “Six thousand followers, and counting,” answered Alanna.

  The man whistled. “My boss’d like that.”

  Vivian handed him a fistful of their business cards. “I’m sure we can arrange something.”

  “Sleep on it,” said Frank.

  “I will, I will!” said the man. “But, um…‌I’ve never put her in anything other than her collar…‌”

  “If she doesn’t like it, we’ll call the whole thing off,” said Vivian. “My boys take to it well,” she bent down to pet Marty and Leggo, but her hand veered at just the last moment so she patted Freckles instead. “But I get that it’s not for every pooch.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll, uh, here.” He fished his own business cards out of his back pocket. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Rhoda, come, girl!”

  She stopped sniffing Leggo’s leg and shot to her owner’s side.

  “‌—‌and if there’s anything wrong with your phone, call us!” Alanna Lu shouted after him.

  “I will!” he called over his shoulder.

  Tom and his dog left the park on the other side.

  Alanna Lu crossed her arms and turned to her great-aunt. “Leggo? My dog?”

  “Love requires sacrifice. That’s the first rule of love.”

  “‌—‌Unless you’re a man,” said Frank. “Then the first rule is ‘don’t leave the seat up.’”

  Alanna Lu crossed her arms, shaking her head. But she was also smiling. “You two think you’re so smooth, don’t you?”

  “Smoother than you, honey,” said Vivian. “You just told him to call us on a broken phone.”

  “Ooooh!” Alanna flopped her face into her palms.

  Frank patted her
on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Lu. He’ll send us a telegram.”

  “Ruff,” went Leggo.

  Chapter 4

  “I don’t know ‘bout this,” said Marty a week later. He spoke from his kennel, safely buckled in the back seat of the Fengs’ Subaru. “You didn’t say anything about getting another spokesdog.”

  Vivian turned around in her seat. “I didn’t know I was going to do it until I did it, Marty. It’s called improvising. It’s only temporary!”

  “Sure,” said Marty, laying his chin down on his forepaws. “People’ve only been emailin’ ya asking about big dog clothes for a year now. She’ll fade right away.”

  Leggo looked up from his chew rope. “Hey! Don’t wish her away. I get to translate for her.”

  Marty huffed. “Good luck talking to Mom when Alanna Lu’s around.”

  “Trust your mom more, Marty,” said Frank, up front driving.

  “Thank you, Frank. Besides, Marty, you’re okay with Freckles getting photographed today, aren’t you?”

  Marty looked towards the spaniel’s kennel. “Well, yeah, sure! We got to get him his forever home! It’s for a cause!”

  “So’s bringing in Rhoda,” said the witch. She turned to Frank. “You saw how cute she and Tom were together. Love is in the air.”

  Leggo dropped his rope and lifted his snout, sniffing. “I don’t smell it!”

  “Yeah,” said Freckles, joining in. “Me neither.”

  Marty rolled his eyes. “Of course you can’t smell it! Alanna Lu and what’s-his-bucket aren’t around!”

  Frank snorted back a laugh.

  “Oh,” said Freckles. “But what about Mister and Missus Feng? You’re still in love, right?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “You got it.”

  Freckles furrowed his brow. “Then why can’t I smell it?”

  “Old people love smells different,” said Leggo around his chew toy.

  “You’re not s’posed to call ’em old, Leggo! They’re senior citizens, like I told ya.”

  Frank snorted again. Marty ignored him. “Frecks, you know how right after you come inside from a walk, you can smell the years in the house, but then you stop smellin’ it, ‘cuz it’s all in the walls and everything, all the time?”

  Freckles tilted his head. “Yeah.”

  “That’s what senior citizen love is like.”

  Vivian and Frank smiled.

  * * *

  Frank stopped the car and turned back to the dogs. “We’re here. Freckles, Marty, we’re going to put on your leashes and walk you up the trail to meet Alanna Lu.”

  “The colors of the leaves are going to look spectacular, Marty. We’ll catch a lot of eyes, but try not to get dirty, dear.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “We’ll start on Freckles’ pictures while Frank and Leggo wait for Tom and Rhoda.”

  Leggo’s tongue rolled out of his mouth as he smiled.

  Marty shook his head. “Oh, brother.”

  “Now, Freckles, you’ll be off-leash for the photos. No running into the woods to chase squirrels. You’d make a great dog sandwich for some wild thing out there,” said the witch.

  Freckles whined.

  “But if you do get lost, sit, stay, and bark your head off. We’ll hear you and come find you.”

  “Sit, stay, and bark. Sit, stay, and bark,” Freckles said.

  “You’ll be having too much fun to worry about some dumb squirrel,” said Marty.

  “Is it fun getting your picture taken, Marty?”

  “Well, sure! Just do what you usually do, look at Alanna’s phone when she calls your name, and you’ll do fine. You don’t even have to smile, not all of the time, anyway. Oh, since there are leaves, she might hide some treats under them for us to dig up. Looks great on camera.”

  Freckles lit up. “Ooo! Treats!”

  “But you can’t go for ’em as soon as you smell ’em. You gotta wait ‘til the shoot starts.”

  “When’s that happen? How will I know? What if I miss it?”

  “Relax. I’ll tell you when.”

  “Thanks, Marty.”

  “No prob, Frecks.”

  “Everyone clear on the rules?” said Frank.

  “Yeees,” chorused the dogs.

  “Any questions before we go? Freckles?” asked Vivian.

  “No, ma’am.”

  The witch unclicked her seatbelt. “Then let’s go!”

  Chapter 5

  Tom pulled up with Rhoda fifteen minutes after Vivian, Marty, and Freckles started up the trail. Frank shook hands with Tom.

  “So, what’s the big news in the database industry?” he asked, and the conversation was off and running, leaving Leggo alone to talk to Rhoda.

  The Frenchie set his chew rope down. “Hi,” he said in Dog. “You ready?”

  Rhoda’s plumed tail wagged. “I’m not exactly sure what all the fuss is about, but I’m game. Any day we get to hike is a good day in my book.”

  Leggo’s tail slowed. He preferred the dog park to hiking‌—‌the incline was too much work for his stubby legs. He hiked more to support his mom and brother than for his enjoyment.

  “Sure, hiking.”

  Rhoda smiled. Leggo’s tail started up again.

  “Have you ever had your picture taken?” she asked.

  “Sometimes with my brother.”

  “Oh.” She lowered her head. Leggo leaned in. “This isn’t like, with a Santa, is it? Tom took me to the one at the toy store, and I was glad it made him so happy, but it wasn’t much fun, you know?”

  “Nuh uh,” said Leggo. “No Santas. Just look at Alanna Lu’s phone when you hear your name. Easy.”

  “Well, all right. If it’s a hike and no Santas, I’m in.”

  Leggo rrruffed and pulled on his lead. Normally he liked sitting with Frank, but they hadn’t even started up the trail yet.

  “Oops, looks like I’m deviating from the schedule,” said Frank. “We’ve got water for the dogs up the trail a ways. Those collapsible bowls, you ever seen them?”

  The men were off talking again, but at least now they were starting up the trail. Leggo picked up his rope.

  They wound their way up the park path, pausing as various joggers and hikers bent down to coo over the pups. After they had stopped to sniff a raccoon’s territory marker, Rhoda asked, “What’s it like wearing a costume for pictures?”

  Leggo paused so she could take the chew from his mouth.

  “It’s all right. And Mom makes us clothing, not costumes. Actually, most of it’s for Marty, or our customers.”

  Rhoda dropped the rope. Leggo snatched it out of the air before it hit the ground. Tom laughed, impressed.

  “It’s important to keep your customers happy,” said Rhoda. “Our boss, Miz Lawrence is always saying that in team meetings.”

  The steep incline of the hill they were now climbing stole the breath from them. For a while, there was no conversation, human or canine.

  When the ground leveled out a bit and Leggo had caught his breath, he offered Rhoda the rope again.

  “What’s it like in an office?”

  “It’s…‌good, but a little strange. It has a lot of rooms like a house, but the wrong kind of furniture. Tom’s my person, of course, but the office is my pack…‌except they never come home with us. You’re lucky to have your brother with you. You’re always a pack.”

  “Do they play with you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she grinned. “It’s easy to get someone to play. Especially if they’ve been working too hard!”

  “Who feeds you?”

  “Tom at home, and Miss Malika at the office.”

  “Kibble, or wet?”

  “Wet at home, kibble at the office.”

  “Lucky. You get to try everything.”

  “Yeah, well…‌I guess I do!”

  They came upon the campsite where Alanna Lu was finishing pictures with Freckles. Rhoda paused to watch them until Vivian waved them over. Frank,
Tom, Leggo, and Rhoda crunched over the rocks to greet her.

  “Doesn’t Freckles look good with the bandana around his neck?” asked Vivian. “It’ll get him adopted in no time‌—‌well, that and your sweet disposition, won’t it, sweetheart?”

  Marty was relaxing on top of a picnic table, wearing a green and white varsity jacket. Freckles was nosing through the leaves while Alanna Lu clicked away.

  “I’m sure it will, Mrs. Feng,” said Tom. He bent down to pet Freckles. “So, are you her foster? Such a good girl, yes she is!”

  “He is a good boy!” corrected the witch. “And his photos will go up…‌tonight?” the witch turned to Alanna Lu, who nodded. “But if you know anyone who’d make a good forever home for him, you let us know!”

  “Yes, ma’am. Maybe I can share them to the office.”

  Leggo leaned his front paws against the picnic table.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” said Marty. “You tell her the deal?”

  “Sure.”

  “You still like her?”

  Leggo sniffed, took up his rope, and trotted away. He was making a beeline for the tree furthest from Marty, but Vivian blocked his way with a blue velvet boot. “I need you to help with Rhoda,” she said, holding up a kelly green windbreaker. Leggo sighed.

  “Come on,” she said, and they walked over to the Irish setter.

  “So why was your dog with your uncle?” Tom asked Alanna Lu as she replaced a new memory stick in her phone.

  “What? Oh‌—‌Leggo? He, uh, well, Rhoda seemed so comfortable with him, and I had to be up here taking the photos. So I figured we’d split the difference.”

  “Good call! Say, um, could we get some of that water? Your uncle said you guys brought some water for the dogs.”

  “Right over here, dear,” said Vivian, pointing to the station they’d set up.

  “Rhoda, come!” said Tom.

  “Excuse me,” Rhoda said to Marty, and followed Tom over. She took noisy slurps out of a blue silicone collapsible bowl. Seconds later, Leggo came up behind her, waiting for her to finish.

  “He’s a nice little guy,” said Tom.

  “Yeah, as long as he’s got a chew toy, he’s happy. But good luck trying to take it away from him when he’s not ready!”

  “Have you tried clicker-training?”

 

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