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Dog Show Disaster

Page 3

by Missy Robertson


  Maybe because at that moment, Miss Lewis walked in the room, with new student Madison Doonsberry at her side. Mad-girl smirked up at me, and I waved a slimy hand back at her.

  This was no time to make anyone madder. I had a lot riding on this speech. So, why, oh why, had I thought it was a good idea to involve the dysfunctional Carroway dogs?

  My cousins sat in the front row—their dogs laying down by their feet—except for T-Rex, who lay on his back while Hunter rubbed his belly and gave him doggy treats.

  Hazel Mae began the fiasco by sneezing—like fifteen times. I think she fakes allergies for attention. So I had to take her up to the podium with me right from the start.

  “Good morning, Ouachita Eagles.” My voice wobbled, so I cleared my throat, and Hazel Mae sneezed again. The whole room erupted in laughter. The only thing I could think of to do was take a tissue out of my pants pocket and wipe her nose.

  More laughter.

  I continued. “One of the things I love best about Ouachita Middle School is the compassion the student body shows for our community. The end-of-the-year fundraiser has helped many people, and this year will be the best yet.”

  I looked down and stroked Hazel Mae’s fluffy fur.

  “How many of you own a dog?” I asked, and scanned the crowd as most everyone raised their hands. I glanced over at Madison. She kept her arms crossed in front of her body, and her nose pointed up in the air. She leaned her head over toward Miss Lewis to say something. Why wasn’t she sitting with the rest of her class?

  I felt sweat trickle down my back and into the waistband of my pants. This was not going well.

  “Most of you know my cousins, Kendall, Hunter, Lola, and Ruby. We all have amazing dogs, which you may have seen on our show, Carried Away with the Carroways.”

  I noticed Madison rolling her eyes.

  Quit looking at her! I scolded myself.

  “But did you know that all of our dogs came from the West Monroe Animal Shelter?”

  Random students shook their heads.

  “The West Monroe Animal Shelter is currently home to thirty-seven dogs in need of families. The director, Mr. John Felix, and his staff, make an effort to get to know all of these animals personally, so that when your family comes looking for a dog, they can suggest one that will be a perfect match.”

  The dogs in front were getting bored by my speech. T-Rex barked a couple of times, and it appeared that Hunter had run out of treats.

  I had to jump straight to the trick so I could get them out of there.

  “I’d like you to meet—up close and personal—the Carroway dogs!”

  One by one I introduced them. They looked so cool in the camo bandannas that Lola made for them. T-Rex got the most applause. He seemed to love the attention. He stood up on his back legs, and, for a second—before he lost his balance—it looked like he waved to the crowd.

  I glanced over at Hunter, his eyes wide in reaction to this new trick.

  I turned to the crowd. “Every dog deserves to have a loving family. And while a dog is waiting, it also deserves to have a home that is in good shape. The West Monroe Animal Shelter needs our help to improve and upgrade their facilities for our future dog family members. I would like to propose that as the end-of-the-year project, we hold a carnival, as usual, but we’ll call it a Canine Carnival, because all the proceeds will go to the West Monroe Animal Shelter.”

  Applause erupted from the crowd. Our dogs yelped along. Madison’s arms relaxed, and hung by her sides, but she didn’t clap. And her face seemed to turn from mad to . . . well, sad, I think.

  “And that’s not all,” I continued. “In addition, we’ll give all you dog owners a chance to participate in a Spectacular Dog Trick competition. We’ll bring in some top dog-trainers to show you how to teach your dogs tricks like this . . .”

  On cue, Hunter handed T-Rex’s leash off to Kendall, and he ran to the side of the room to drag over the mini-tramp. Then he retrieved the hula hoop.

  I breathed in deep and then made the announcement, sounding very much like a ringmaster at the circus.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the Carroway cousins and their dogs bring you . . . The Carroway Catapult!”

  I closed my eyes briefly and prayed that it wouldn’t go down in history as the Carroway Catastrophe.

  CHAPTER 6

  Flips and Flops

  The practice the other day at Ruby and Lola’s had paid off. Max and Monet began the trick by running around the perimeter of the room, and performing perfect jumps through the hoop. Kids gasped and clapped. Then Ellie pranced around, and in her ladylike way, approached the trampoline, tested it with her paw, then hopped up. She bounced five times—the kids counted each one—and then she rolled beautifully through the hoop. Hazel Mae sneezed a couple of times, but then jumped out of my arms and tore around the room. She leaped, barely touching the mini-tramp, and then flew through the hoop. She forgot to flip or roll in the air, but made up for it when she landed, rolling over and over until she was laying at my feet, sneezing again. I picked her up and wiped her nose.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I think I saw Madison grin a little.

  T-Rex provided the grand finale. He was a wildcard, since even after all our practice the other day, all he managed to do was jump through the hoop from the ground. I was tempted to cut him completely out of the act, but Hunter had begged profusely.

  “I promise the T won’t disappoint,” he said.

  So I kept him in. And I was about to find out if that was a mistake.

  Hunter pulled a few surprise treats out of his back pocket. He kneeled and hugged T-Rex, roughing his neck up.

  “Okay, boy, show them what you can do!” Hunter pointed toward the back of the room, and T-Rex ran through the rows of kids, getting petted along the way. Chants began, row by row. “T-Rex! T-Rex! T-Rex!”

  Soon he emerged from the crowd and skittered around to the side of the room. At one point, he stopped, lifted his front foot and brushed it back along the ground, like a bull approaching a bull fighter.

  “T-Rex! T-Rex! T-Rex!”

  Then T-Rex bolted forward, toward the mini-tramp. I said another prayer, this one so that we wouldn’t need to call the doggy ambulance in a minute.

  T-Rex ran toward the mini-tramp, and I started to put my hands up to cover my eyes. But then, right when he should have jumped up on the tramp, he stopped. The whole room became still.

  And T-Rex squatted and crawled under the trampoline.

  It was like a game of Doggy-Limbo!

  Eventually, T-Rex emerged from under the trampoline. Hunter held up the hula hoop, and T-Rex stepped through to a standing ovation from all the students at Ouachita Middle School.

  Madison had already been standing, so it was hard to tell if she appreciated the trick or not.

  There wasn’t much else for me to say, except, “If you vote for me for Student Project Manager, all the dogs of West Monroe will benefit, and that will definitely add more joy to our beautiful town. Thank you.”

  I was the last person to give my speech, so as soon as I finished, the students began to file out of the multipurpose room, class by class. My two competitors, Ronnie Alexander and Samara James, both came over to shake my hand and congratulate me.

  “It’s not even gonna be close,” Ronnie said. “I think I’ll even vote for you.”

  Samara, who I’ve known since kindergarten, gave me a side hug. “Can I serve on the committee? I’m really good at decorations—and I have three dogs!”

  I smiled, though I felt a little embarrassed. “The vote isn’t in yet, but if I win, I’d love to have you both on my committee. We’ll need everyone’s talent to make this the best year-end project ever.”

  Ronnie and Samara left the podium. The next people to greet me were the students in my class. Mrs. Mellon was at the front of the line.

  “That was exceptional, Allie. Every year I’m amazed at what our students come up with for project ideas.”
/>   Right behind Mrs. Mellon was Parker Doonsberry. Parker never crosses his arms or scowls. He’s a quiet one, and Kendall says the expressions he makes and the reflections from his dark green eyes make you wonder what enchanting thoughts he is having at any given moment.

  I tilted my head and smiled. “Welcome to OMS, Parker.”

  Parker brushed his wavy strawberry blonde bangs to the side of his face.

  “Thanks. This is a nice school. And, hey—your idea sounds great.”

  “Thanks.”

  The kids in my class began to file out, but Parker stayed for a minute, watching the door until every kid was gone. Soon, just he and I stood there alone in the multipurpose room.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  Parker fidgeted.

  “Yeah. It’s just, I wanted you to know something.” He turned his head, left, then right.

  “O . . . kay.”

  I waited.

  He finally spit it out. “Madison, uh . . . you know my sister?” I nodded.

  Yeah. Mad-girl.

  “Well, she’s been having a really bad year.”

  I know. The divorce. The move. I suppose that would be hard.

  Parker took a deep breath and blew it out. “And, right before we left Florida, her golden retriever, Millie, who she’s had all her life, got really sick.”

  Gulp.

  “And we had to put her down.”

  My mouth went dry. I pulled Hazel Mae in a little closer.

  “Don’t tell Madison I told you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Parker reached out to pet Hazel Mae for a second, then he turned and ran out the door.

  CHAPTER 7

  Miss Lewis

  There’s never been a teacher that scared me quite like Miss Lewis. She’s barely five feet tall, and I’m pretty sure she only weighs a hundred pounds. Rumors have it that she was an army boot camp sergeant, but she was discharged because she was sending too many troops to the hospital before they even made it to combat.

  My older brother Cody had the bad luck of being in Miss Lewis’s class when he was in eighth grade. He spent most of the year in detention, and he was a straight-A student! Okay, maybe he played practical jokes from time to time, but Cody says that’s what kept the class sane.

  “Today’s the day I will make her smile,” Cody used to say when he left in the morning.

  That was five years ago, and I’m pretty sure Miss Lewis hasn’t smiled yet. This year, Lola and Hunter are in her class. Now, if Hunter can’t make that lady smile, it’s impossible for anyone to do it.

  But here we were in late March, and nothing yet.

  “She grins with her eyes,” Hunter claims, but I hadn’t seen it.

  “Miss Carroway, don’t you have a classroom to get to instead gawking over that boy?” Miss Lewis had appeared out of nowhere, and now stood by the podium where I was holding Hazel Mae.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m headed there right now.”

  “Well, good. I’d hate to think you would waste good educational time daydreaming after a flirt session.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  And I wasn’t flirting!

  Miss Lewis stood in front of me, in between the podium and the door. I couldn’t decide which way to step around her. What if she stepped in the same direction as me, and we bumped into each other? Would she make me drop down and give her twenty push-ups?

  Hazel Mae sneezed.

  Miss Lewis kept her stern face, but reached over to pet Hazel Mae. “Poor baby. You sound like you need a decongestant.”

  Miss Lewis stepped back. “Good speech, Carroway. I wish you the best in the election.”

  I tried to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. Had that been a compliment?

  “Um . . . thank you, ma’am.”

  Miss Lewis pointed her index finger in the air.

  “‘Um’ is not a word. Remember that. Stammering reveals lack of confidence, and if you are going to be a leader, you must be confident.”

  Miss Lewis did an about-face before she marched over to the door of the multipurpose room.

  Madison Doonsberry was waiting for her there, writing on a clipboard. When Miss Lewis reached her, she handed her the clipboard, and they marched out together.

  A screechy voice crackled over the loudspeaker, interrupting my thoughts. It was Jared Strickland, our student body president.

  “The election for Student Project Manager will take place today only during lunch. Bring your school ID to the front table in the quad to cast your vote. The winner will be announced before the closing bell today. Thank you, and good luck to all of our outstanding candidates.”

  “Yeah, let’s hope we win,” I said to Hazel Mae, and walked back to my homeroom class.

  When I came through the door, all heads turned my way, and a smattering of applause started from the back of the class and traveled forward. A beaming Mrs. Mellon sat in front on a stool with a literature textbook balanced open on her lap, her dark-brown hair pulled back in a stylish ponytail. She had started wearing the cutest maternity clothes just a couple of weeks ago, and the glow on her face complemented the orange-red poppy necklace that matched her top.

  “Great job on your speech, Allie. If you end up winning the position, I hope I’ll have the stamina to keep up with your plan.”

  She placed her hand on her little tiny baby bump and sighed a little.

  “I’m going to miss working here next school year.”

  Mrs. Mellon’s baby was due at the beginning of August. All the seventh-graders had been excited about that—my cousin Ruby especially—assuming Mrs. Mellon would be able to have the baby during summer vacation and then return to school in the fall. But during a lunch break last week, Mrs. Mellon broke the bad news.

  “I’m taking a leave of absence, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I never thought I would be able to have kids, and I may never have another—so I’m going to stay home and savor every minute with my little girl.”

  The sparkle in her eyes had been so beautiful that no one had the heart to challenge her decision, or even to express frustration. The school would get a good teacher to fill her position, but no one could replace someone as special as Mrs. Mellon.

  “Mrs. Mellon, may I be excused for a minute? My mom’s coming to pick up my dog.”

  Mrs. Mellon smiled.

  “Of course. Come on back as soon as you can. We’re reviewing for the lit test tomorrow.”

  I hurried out the door, through the quad, and spotted our family’s white SUV in the parking lot—my dependable mom in the driver’s seat. She opened her door and stepped out to give me a hug.

  “How did the speech go?”

  I reached in the driver side and let Hazel Mae loose in the front seat. Then I brushed her little white hairs off my navy-blue T-shirt.

  “It went better than expected, and T-Rex stole the show at the end by doing a limbo under the mini-tramp.”

  Mom laughed. “Leave it to Hunter to come up with something clever.”

  “Yeah. And I think the students all love the idea. The votes aren’t in yet, but I have a really good feeling about it.”

  Mom nodded. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be elected. You’re determined, a great leader, and everyone around here loves you.”

  “Well, most people do. Miss Lewis got mad at me for using the word, ‘um,’ and Madison Doonsberry showed up today and glared at me during the whole assembly.”

  “Okay, so that’s two people who may not be your fans. Madison just needs time to get to know you, and Miss Lewis is not really a fan of anyone. I’m proud of you for taking on such a huge project.”

  I smiled. “It’s going to be awesome. Between me and Mrs. Mellon—this is going to be the best year-end project in the school’s history.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Complications

  Mom and I talked for a few more minutes, which helped calm me down after my stressful speech.

  “Okay, I guess I
better get back to class,” I said, and Mom jumped back in the SUV with Hazel Mae.

  “See you this afternoon.” She waved at me through the open driver’s side window, began to back up, but didn’t get far before she had to stop and pull back in.

  Sirens blared as a fire truck and ambulance entered the circular driveway in front of the school.

  Mr. Langley, our principal who happens to be 6' 8" and has the longest legs I’ve ever seen, ran out of the administration office and reached the ambulance in about six steps.

  He waited for the EMTs to drag out a gurney, and then he pointed them in the direction they needed to go.

  “It’s this way,” Mr. Langley said. “Room 217.”

  I gasped. “That’s my class!”

  Mom jumped out of the SUV and ran with me in the direction of the classroom.

  About the time we got to the door, kids began to pile out, Kendall and Parker leading the way.

  Kendall’s eyes were wide as she pulled me to the middle of the quad where the class was gathering. “It’s Mrs. Mellon! She was reading to us, and then she stopped, grabbed her stomach, and almost fell off the stool. Parker ran up to help, and she just crumpled on the floor. Allie, do you think something’s wrong with the baby?”

  My heart pounded as I locked my eyes on the open door of the classroom.

  “We need to pray for her.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes! Help me gather some kids.”

  “Allie, this is a public school. We’ll get in trouble if we pray.”

  “I don’t care.”

  I spoke to the waiting crowd of kids.

  “People, we’re forming a circle over here to pray for Mrs. Mellon. You can join us if you want.”

  About half the class came over and tried to form a circle, but it ended up looking more like a figure eight. Kendall ended up on my left, and Parker was on my right. Kendall grabbed my hand, and the rest of the kids grabbed hands too. I didn’t know if I should grab Parker’s hand or not. I didn’t have to think long, because Parker reached over, grabbed mine, and began to pray:

  “Dear Jesus, please be with Mrs. Mellon and her baby right now. Help them to be okay. Help the doctors know what to do.”

 

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