End of the Race

by Laurie Halse Anderson

  Hello!

  I was a swimmer when I was a kid. Backstroke was my specialty. (I liked it because it’s easy to breathe when you’re swimming on your back!) But swimming is an individual sport. I had a lot to learn about teamwork.

  When you’re playing on a team, you want to make sure that everyone is doing his or her best. When one teammate stumbles, the others help her up, just like in a family. Sometimes friends or teammates can seem like enemies. You might feel jealous of them or want to beat them. We all have feelings like that occasionally. The trick is to learn how to get past them.

  Maggie is feeling threatened by two people in this book: a new volunteer at the clinic and a new girl on the basketball team. She has to find it in her heart to work with them both, instead of trying to drive them away.

  If you ever find yourself in the same situation, I hope you’ll remember how Maggie worked things out.

  Laurie Halse Anderson

  Collect All the Vet Volunteers Books

  Fight for Life

  Homeless

  Trickster

  Manatee Blues

  Say Good-bye

  Storm Rescue

  Teacher’s Pet

  Trapped

  Fear of Falling

  Time to Fly

  Masks

  End of the Race

  New Beginnings

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to Norris, Jack, and Nate Chumley;

  Kate A.W. Roby, D.V.M.; Joseph Nebzydoski, D.V.M.;

  and Kim Michels, D.V.M.

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

  Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue,

  Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Registered Offices: Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published in the United States of America by Pleasant Company Publications, 2003

  Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2012

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

  Copyright © Laurie Halse Anderson 2003, 2012

  Title page photo © 2011, Bob Krasner

  All rights reserved

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Anderson, Laurie Halse.

  End of the Race / Laurie Halse Anderson.

  p. cm.

  Summary: After treating an injured greyhound at her grandmother’s veterinary

  clinic, thirteen-year-old Maggie learns about the abuse of greyhounds in the

  dog-racing industry and vows to put a stop to it.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-57508-6

  [ 1. Veterinarians—Fiction. 2. Greyhounds—Fiction. 3. Greyhound racing—Fiction.

  4. Veterinary medicine—Fiction. 5. Dogs—Fiction. 6. Grandmothers—Fiction.]

  I. Title

  PZ7.A54385 En 2009

  [Fic]—dc22 2009010304

  Printed in the United States of America

  Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition

  that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise

  circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover

  other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition

  including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any

  responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  To Catherine Stine, with thanks

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter One

  Hi, Maggie! Are you working at the clinic this afternoon? I’ll walk with you.” Sunita taps my shoulder as the school bus pushes us through the first heavy snowstorm of the new year.

  I turn to her in the seat behind me. She’s wearing a purple parka, her favorite color. “Sure,” I say.

  When the bus grinds to a halt, we jump off and tromp through the sparkly drifts to Dr. Mac’s Place, my grandmother’s veterinary clinic, where Sunita and I volunteer along with some of our friends. I live with Gran—or Dr. Mac, as everyone else calls her—in the house attached to the clinic. It’s great getting to care for animals every day.

  “How come you’re taking the late bus?” asks Sunita. “Were you studying at the library? I didn’t see you there.”

  “Me, at the library? You must be kidding.” Even though I’m doing better in school since my science teacher, Mr. Carlson, helped me map out a study plan last year, the library is still the last place you’ll find me. “I just finished basketball practice. Sunita, you should have seen it—Darla almost breathed fire when Coach Williams put me in as center. She even elbowed me when the coach wasn’t looking and said I was too short to play that position. Can you believe that? I’ve always played center.” I form a snowball, leap up, and hurl it over a branch. “Jump shot!”

  “Center was Darla’s regular position at her old school, right?” Sunita is more into books than basketball, but even she’s heard that Darla Stone, a new girl at Ambler Middle School, considers herself the star player. I nod yes. “Proceed with caution,” Sunita warns.

  “Guess so,” I agree. Sunita wouldn’t steer me wrong. She always has the right answer.

  “Who are the new patients at the clinic?” Sunita asks. “I missed two whole weeks because of winter break.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me that Christmas vacation’s already over.” I make a face. “Let’s see, there are some dogs and kittens still boarding. Gran dewormed the kittens today. They’re sooo cute.”

  “Kitties! How many?” Sunita’s a cat person. Cal-ico, Siamese, domestic shorthair, bring them on!

  “Four,” I reply. “There’s also a guinea pig named Podge. He has slobbers.”

  “Sounds awful. What’s that?” asks Sunita. She tears open a bag of pretzels and offers me one.

  I grab one in my gloved hand and toss it in the air. “Basket!” I catch it in my mouth, along with a bunch of snowflakes. “Slobbers is a condition where the guinea pig can’t close his mouth because his teeth have grown too long. I hate to think of Podge not being able to eat properly, or even to shut his mouth.”

  “Can Dr. Mac trim his teeth?” Sunita asks.

  “Yeah. She’s scheduled to do surgery on Podge this Saturday.” Only two more school days until I get to spend the day helping Gran with surgery, playing with kittens, and walking the boarder dogs. Hooray!

  Sunita wraps he
r scarf tighter. “It sounds like a full house. Are David and Brenna around?” Our friends David Hutchinson and Brenna Lake have been volunteering at Dr. Mac’s Place ever since we needed extra help shutting down an illegal puppy mill last year.

  “David’s around, but Brenna’s family is taking an extra week in Costa Rica. They’re learning about sea turtle nesting habits.” Brenna’s parents are wildlife rehabilitators. It’s so awesome how her whole family’s involved in saving endangered species.

  “It would be nice to be in the tropics right about now,” Sunita sighs as the snow swirls faster. We reach my front door and tap snow off our boots. Even though I’m still sweaty from practice, I shiver as a blast of wind whistles under my hood. We hurry in and close the door quickly.

  “Whew, it’s almost as chilly in here as it is outside.” Sunita takes her coat off but pulls a sweater from her backpack.

  “Gran doesn’t like to heat the house when she’s in the clinic all day.” I flop onto the living room couch and pry off my boots, then hook my ski jacket on a peg in the closet and shiver again. It IS cold in here. My tummy’s rumbling. After basketball practice I could eat a…well, not a horse! I open the fridge. Some yogurt, leftover salad, a bunch of apples. Much too healthy. “Sunita, want some cereal?”

  “No thanks, those pretzels filled me up.” She opens one of Gran’s veterinary magazines to an article on cat grooming.

  I pour a bowl of Froot Loops and milk and gulp it down, then rinse my bowl and leave it in the sink. “Let’s see if Gran needs help.”

  Sunita closes the magazine and follows me through the hallway door to the clinic. Friendly barks from the boarding kennels greet us.

  “Gran?” I call as we step into the waiting room.

  “Hello,” replies an unfamiliar, high-pitched voice.

  A girl sits at the receptionist desk, filing charts. Her tightly curled black hair is held back by two yellow clips, which match her sweater. The normally messy desktop has been straightened up. All the active charts and phone messages are in neat piles. She’s even put the jumble of pens in a Dr. Mac’s Place coffee mug!

  “Who are you?” I ask. Why is she sitting at the desk, and where is Gran? Sunita’s usually the one who straightens up the desk. I wonder how she feels about this.

  “I’m Taryn. Taryn Barbosa. Dr. Mac asked me to help out today.”

  “What for?” Brenna will be back in town soon and David’s right across the street. We don’t need another assistant.

  “Something about her granddaughter coming in late from basketball practice, and she needed someone to fill in.” Dimples crease her dark cheeks.

  “I’m her granddaughter, Maggie.” Oh, great, joining the basketball team is suddenly a trade-off for working at the clinic?

  “You look familiar, Taryn,” Sunita says. “You go to Elizabeth Blackwell Elementary, don’t you? Didn’t you come in last year with your sick canary?”

  “Yep. And I also came here last year with my sick rabbit. Dr. Mac did a great job with her. But she died this fall. She just got too old.” Taryn looks sad about the rabbit but pleased that Sunita remembers her. Suddenly, I remember her, too. Taryn is the fastest runner at Blackwell, our old school. But what does she know about animals?

  “Nice to meet you, Taryn,” says Sunita, then she turns to me. “I’m going to check the meds inventory in the storeroom.”

  “Need any help?” asks Taryn.

  “Thanks, but I can handle it,” Sunita replies.

  Dr. Gabe, Gran’s associate vet, steps out of his office. “Hey girls, how was the first day back at school?”

  “Ugh,” I groan. Sunita shrugs.

  “That bad?” His handsome face crinkles into a grin as he pulls on his coat. “Will you tell Dr. Mac I’m off to check on that tired mama cow?”

  I nod. “Sure.” He helped yesterday with a tricky breech calf birth on a farm near Dr. Mac’s Place. “Where’s Dr. Mac?” I ask Taryn.

  “She’s putting the kittens back in their pen. Not only were they chock-full of roundworms, but they needed another flea bath. Yuck.” Taryn gets up. “I’ll go get her for you.”

  “That’s OK.” I start down the hall to help Gran when a loud vehicle rumbles up the drive. I run to the window and pull back the curtains.

  An old blue truck pulls in. A woman in a faded woolen jacket jumps out, leading a badly limping dog up the steps. The doorbell jangles.

  “Can I help?” Taryn beats me to the door and holds it open.

  “Is this the animal clinic?” asks the woman. Her huge green eyes look frightened.

  “Yes,” I say, glancing at the dog. It’s a bony greyhound the color of gingerbread, whimpering and shivering. “Your dog looks cold. You’d better come in, not that it’s much warmer in here.”

  “Thanks.” She stamps her snowy boots on the floor mat. “My name’s Roselyn.”

  Gran hurries into the waiting room. “Hi, girls. Sorry, I was tied up on a phone call.” Gran rubs her arms. “Brrr…That storm is really chilling everything down quickly, isn’t it?”

  “Snow’s about a foot deep already,” Roselyn says.

  Gran leans over the greyhound for a better look. “Hello, what’s the matter today?”

  “Dog’s got a bad leg,” Roselyn says. She looks uncomfortable.

  “I see.” Gran spots the crooked bandage around the dog’s leg. “Bring her right in.” She motions Roselyn into the Dolittle exam room.

  I can’t help until I disinfect my hands, so I go to the sink and turn on the faucet. The water is cold and stays that way. It won’t heat up. How could we be out of hot water? Suddenly, I realize why everyone’s so cold. “Gran, the heat is off!”

  “Oh, drat, I knew we should have bought a new boiler last year,” Gran sighs. “Maggie, could you set out heat lamps for the kittens and the boarders?”

  Sunita walks in with the meds order form on a clipboard. “Hi, Dr. Mac. We’re running low on some meds.”

  “Sunita, glad you’re here,” Gran says. “Could you help Maggie with the heat lamps? Taryn, please call David Hutchinson and the boiler repairman. Sunita, show her where their numbers are on the Rolodex.” As she gives orders, Gran removes the bandage and feels gently up and down the greyhound’s swollen leg. The dog yelps as Gran probes with her fingers. “How long has she been like this?”

  Roselyn shakes her head. “Not sure. The dog’s not really mine. Maybe a week?”

  Gran frowns. “I need to take some X-rays. You girls hurry with those lamps!”

  I’m itching to help with the greyhound, but the lamps come first. The animals, especially the kittens, mustn’t get chilled.

  Chapter Two

  We’ll need at least six heat lamps, two for each area,” Sunita reasons. I race to check the closet.

  “Here are four.” I grab one in each hand.

  The doorbell clangs and David Hutchinson, our volunteer from across the street, barges in. “’Scuse me, Maggie.” He eyes the lamps. “Things are sure heating up in here, girls!” he cracks.

  “No time for jokes, David.” I check the lamps to make sure they’re working.

  “Dr. Mac needs you immediately in the Dolittle Room,” Sunita tells him.

  Sunita and I carry the lamps to the kittens’ pen. The kittens are piled together to keep warm, except for one with a brown eye patch, who totters around.

  “This poor baby’s shivering,” Sunita whispers. She puts him down next to the others. “There, little lost one, come get warm.”

  I place one lamp on a nearby table and the other across from it, making sure they’re high enough that the kittens can’t climb up, and far enough away that they won’t get burned. I turn both lamps on.

  We go to another bank of cages that holds a rabbit, an old gray cat, and Podge. Podge’s teeth stick out from the corners of his mouth, which is matted with drool. “Don’t worry, Podge, nothing a little dental wizardry can’t fix.” I pat him through the bars while Sunita turns on the other two lamps.

&
nbsp; “Quick,” Sunita says, “we need two more lamps for the large boarding kennels.” She runs to the back storeroom while I search another supply closet. An avalanche of supplies tumbles down. What a mess. Finally, one more lamp!

  “Found one,” Sunita calls as she runs back.

  “Me too,” I reply. We enter the kennel area to a burst of barks. “Boy, it’s nippy in here!”

  We position the lamps at a safe distance from the dogs. I pause by each dog to say a quickie hello. “Hey, Sparks. Hi, Goldy. You warmer now, Fletcher?” Fletcher sneezes. I pat his floppy spaniel ears. “Got to run. There’s a really sick greyhound. See you later.” He cocks his head and looks at me with pleading eyes. “I promise.”

  Sunita’s still fussing with the lamps.

  “C’mon, let’s hurry,” I say to her. “I want to get back to the greyhound.”

  Gran gives us an update. “Just took X-rays, and the boiler repairman’s on his way. David’s hauled over several buckets of hot water from his house to use for scrubbing up.”

  The greyhound lies on the metal examining table. Her right front leg is terribly swollen, with a line of nasty, oozing cuts. David’s hands steady the dog while Roselyn hovers by nervously. What are the cuts from? Did the dog fall on something?

  David’s in my spot. Poor girl, I should be next to you, comforting you, I think.

  “Prepare for surgery, girls,” Gran directs. “I could use your help while I clean and treat her wounds.” Gran often asks us to help during surgical procedures, especially if Dr. Gabe is gone. “David, could you help Taryn cover the front desk? The boiler repairman will soon be here. Will you show him where to go?”

  “Sure, Dr. Mac.” David rushes off to help Taryn.

  Sunita and I wash with disinfectant soap and pull on scrubs—surgical garb.

  I take the dog’s temperature. “Her temp is one hundred five, Gran.” Normal is around one hundred one degrees.

  “She has a serious fever from the infection,” says Gran. She looks at Roselyn and shakes her head. “It may be too late to help her.”