Pushed-in face? Pugs have pushed-in faces.
“THAT SOUNDS LIKE MUFFIN!” Mouse exclaims.
“Shh!” I hiss.
Mouse says “sorry” with his eyes. He just can’t help talking so loud. Especially when he’s excited.
But I’m excited, too. Maybe the strange dog is Muffin.
“Thanks,” I say to Goldy. “Uh ... maybe I’ll run into you again sometime.”
“Maybe,” Goldy replies. Then she blinks again, and my whole insides get fluttery.
“YOU LIKE HER, DON’T YOU?” Mouse teases me when we are away from Goldy’s house.
“Sure, I like her,” I tell Mouse. I keep my eyes pointed straight ahead. “I like everyone.”
Mouse laughs. “YEAH, BUT YOU LIKE HER MORE THAN YOU LIKE MOST DOGS.”
“Don’t be weird,” I tell Mouse. “We’ve got a mystery to solve.”
Mouse and I continue down the street. When we get to the end, I sniff to the left, then sniff to the right. I definitely smell hamburgers to the right. So does Mouse.
We follow the hamburger smell past a bunch of houses ... up and down a hill. Goldy was right—the hamburger smell is starting to mix with another smell. Fish ... both live
fish and dead fish ... beavers ...?boats ... and something else. Is that the smell of river?
“Grandma must live around here somewhere,” I say, glancing around the neighborhood. “But where? Which house?”
I don’t know if we have time to search each house. It’s going to be light soon. Connor’s mom gets up as soon as it’s light out. I have to be back by then.
“I KNOW HOW TO SPEED THIS UP,” Mouse says. He steps back then says in an even louder voice than normal: “HEY! IS ANYONE OUT THERE? WE HEARD THERE WAS A STRANGER HANGING AROUND HERE. HAS ANYONE SEEN A SHORT, STOCKY STRANGER WITH A PUSHED-IN FACE?”
There is a rustling in the bushes up ahead. A short dog with a pushed-in face steps through the bushes. But it’s not Muffin. It’s one very angry-looking Shih Tzu.
7
News from Springtown
“PUSHED IN FACE? SOMEONE TOLD YOU I HAVE A PUSHED-IN FACE?”
Wow. This dog is almost as loud as Mouse! And he isn’t anywhere near as big.
“WHO TOLD YOU THAT?” asks the Shih Tzu, running a circle around us. “WHO SAID I HAVE A PUSHED-IN FACE? I’LL PUSH IN HIS FACE!”
Mouse and I look at each other. It’s hard to say whether this is the stranger Goldy heard about or not. He is short and stocky. And, well ... he does have a sort of pushed-in face. But he’s clearly not Muffin.
“Nobody told us you have a pushed-in face,” I say. “The dog we’re looking for has a pushed-in face.”
“Who are you looking for?” the Shih Tzu asks. He’s calming down a little now. “What’s his name? What’s your name? My name’s Sarge.”
“I’m ... Buddy.” The more I say it, the more I believe it is my name. “This is my friend, Mouse.”
“Hi, Buddy. Hi, Mouse.” Sarge lifts his paw. “You guys aren’t from around here either, are you? Where are you from? I’m from Springtown.”
Springtown? That catches my attention. That’s where Kayla’s grandma lives. It’s where Kayla and her dad went when they left me at Barker Bob’s.
“Are you from there, too?” Sarge asks. “Did you get caught in the tornado?”
Tornado? “There was a tornado in Springtown?” I ask.
“Yes,” Sarge replies. “Have you ever been in a tornado? The one that went through Springtown was the loudest, scariest thing I ever heard. It sounded like a freight train, but it was really a big, swirling cloud. Big as our whole block. It roared through the town and picked up cars, trees, even houses and threw them down like they were nothing.”
“THAT SOUNDS TERRIBLE,” Mouse says.
I agree. I’ve seen tornados on TV, but I’ve never seen one in real life.
“Was it a really bad tornado? Did anyone ... you know?” I ask.
Mouse moves closer to me. “YOU’D KNOW IF YOUR HUMANS DIED,” he says. “YOU’D FEEL IT.”
He’s right, of course. And I don’t feel as though Kayla and Dad ... I can’t say the word. I can’t even think it. But I know something bad has happened to my humans. That’s what I feel.
“I don’t think anyone died,” Sarge says. “But the town is in bad shape. A lot of humans lost their houses. Including my humans. There were dogs and cats wandering around town without any food, water, or a place to sleep. It was awful.”
“WHAT HAPPENED?” Mouse asks. “HOW DID YOU GET HERE?”
“The dogcatchers came,” Sarge says. “They caught a lot of us. They lured us with food and water. Then they put us on trucks and drove us to different towns. I was one of the lucky ones. I escaped from the truck. I don’t know what happened to the dogs who didn’t escape.”
I wonder if they ended up at the P-O-U-N-D. I didn’t talk to anyone from Springtown when I was there. And I didn’t hear about any tornado. But the P-O-U-N-D is a big place. I certainly didn’t talk to everyone.
“So, what do you know about Springtown?” Sarge asks me.
I tell him about my humans. My old humans.
If they got caught in the tornado, that would explain why they never came back.
“Do you know the way to Springtown?” I ask Sarge. “Can you take me there?” All I have to do is bring Muffin to Kathy, bring Jazzy to Connor and Mom, and then I will be ready to go.
Sarge shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous to go back there right now.”
Too dangerous? What kind of dog lets a little danger stand between him and his humans?
“My humans could be hurt,” I say. “They could be hurt bad. I have to go to them. I have to help.”
“If they’re hurt, you won’t be able to go to them,” Sarge tells me. “Not if they’re in a hospital. Dogs aren’t allowed in hospitals. You’ll probably get picked up by a dogcatcher if you try to go in. And if you get picked up by a dogcatcher, you could end up anywhere. How are you going to help your humans then?”
“IF YOU GET PICKED UP BY A DOGCATCHER IN SPRINGTOWN, YOU MIGHT NEVER SEE YOUR OLD PEOPLE OR YOUR NEW PEOPLE AGAIN!” Mouse cries.
That would be bad.
I drop to the ground. The grass feels wet against my belly. I don’t know what to do! I want to go to Springtown. But I don’t want to get picked up by a dogcatcher and taken to a strange town.
“Will you go back to Springtown someday?” I ask Sarge.
“Sure. As soon as it’s safe to go back,” Sarge says.
“How will you know when it’s safe?” I ask.
“I’ll check the Network,” he says.
The Network is how dogs talk to each other and get news. One dog sends a message to another dog, who sends a message to another dog, who sends a message to more dogs.
“Until then, this isn’t a bad place to hang out,” Sarge says. “It’s easier to hide from the dogcatcher here than it is in Springtown. I’ve got a bed in those bushes over there. Sometimes people come along and feed me. And there’s water on the other side of those houses.”
River water?
“Wouldn’t you rather live in a house?” I ask. “With humans?” Maybe he could come back with me and Jazzy and live with Connor and Mom, too. Especially if it’s just for a little while. Then, when it’s safe, Sarge and I can go to Springtown together.
“No, I actually prefer to be outdoors now,” Sarge says. “That way I’ll know if a tornado is coming.”
That doesn’t sound like a very good life to me.
“I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING, BUDDY,” Mouse says. “BUT REMEMBER, I’M AN OUTDOOR DOG. IT’S NOT SO BAD. I KIND OF LIKE THE FREEDOM.”
“So do I,” Sarge says. “But I’ll still be happy to see my people again.”
The sky is growing lighter. You can hardly see the stars anymore.
Mouse yawns. “YOU KNOW,” he says. “IF WE’RE GOING TO FIND YOUR FRIEND TONIGHT, WE DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME.”
Mouse is
right. If we’re not back soon, our humans will probably call the dogcatcher on us.
It’s hard to think about Muffin and Jazzy when I just got one step closer to finding out what happened to my humans. But I don’t want to go to Springtown and get caught by a dogcatcher.
I can’t solve the case of my missing people right now, but I can solve the Case of the Mixed-Up Mutts.
“Let’s find Muffin,” I tell Mouse. “She must be close.”
“Who’s Muffin?” Sarge asks.
I give him the short version of what happened with Muffin and Jazzy. “Have you seen a pug anywhere around here?” I ask.
“Pug?” Sarge says. “Now that’s a dog with a pushed-in face. Hey, I think there’s a pug in the house that smells like oatmeal cookies.”
“I LOVE oatmeal cookies,” I say. “They’re my favorite food!”
“Mine, too,” Sarge says. “I haven’t met that dog. She hasn’t been at that house very long. But if she’s the dog you’re looking for, she might not want to go back to her humans. Not if there are oatmeal cookies at her new house.”
“I think she’ll want to go back,” I say. Who wouldn’t give up cookies for their real humans?
But I could be wrong.
8
The House That Smells Like Oatmeal Cookies
It’s easy to find the house that smells like oatmeal cookies. Mouse and I could probably find it with our noses closed.
There are one ... two ... eleven ... four ... six steps leading to a wide front porch. Mouse and I climb the steps and pad over to the big front window.
We peer inside.
I see a pug curled up on a chair next to the fireplace.
I tap my paw against the window. “Hello?” I say. “Are you Muffin?”
The pug looks up. She climbs down from the chair, stretches, and waddles over to us. “How do you know my name?” she asks.
Yes! She is Muffin!
I tell Muffin who Mouse and I are and why we are here.
“You met Jazzy?” Muffin leaps against the window sill. “And you know my human? How did you find me? This isn’t Jazzy’s house. This is the grandma’s house. Grandma is taking care of me and Owen while Owen’s parents are on vacation.”
“WE KNOW,” Mouse says. “AND BELIEVE ME, IT WASN’T EASY TO FIND YOU!”
“You have to get me out of here,” Muffin says. She spins in several circles. “You have to break me out of this house. You have to take me to my human, and then bring Jazzy back here.”
Bring Jazzy back? “But Jazzy doesn’t want to come back,” I say.
Muffin stops spinning. “Why not?”
“She says Owen was the one who switched you guys at the dog park. She says he did it on purpose. I came here to bring you back to Kathy. Jazzy is going to come live with my humans. The humans I’m living with now, I mean. Then I’m going to go back to my old humans.”
That’s the Plan!
“It’s true. Owen did switch Jazzy and me,” Muffin says. “But he feels really bad about that now.”
“He does?” I gulp.
“Yes,” Muffin says. “He misses Jazzy a lot. He wants her back.”
Hmm. I wonder how Jazzy would feel if she knew that?
“Apparently there’s something about the way I cuddle that’s wrong,” Muffin goes on. “But hey, he’s not my human. I only snuggle with my own human, you know?”
“ME, TOO,” Mouse says.
I look at Mouse and try to imagine him snuggling with his humans. Without crushing them, I mean.
“Do you have a plan for getting me out of here?” Muffin asks. “Are you going to break the window? Are you going to bring me out through the chimney?”
How would we bring her out through the chimney? I wonder.
At Jazzy’s house we just found a hole that was already there and made it a little bigger.
“Are there any holes in the window screens at this house?” I ask Muffin. That would be the easiest way to get her out.
“No.” Muffin shakes her head. “I’ve checked.”
“HOW ABOUT A DOGGY DOOR?” Mouse asks.
“No doggy door, either,” Muffin says.
“Then I don’t know how we’re going to get you out of this house,” I say.
“You have to get me out!” Muffin says. She leaps against the window sill again. “Owen’s mom and dad don’t know that he switched us. They were too busy packing for their trip when Owen brought me home. But once they actually look at me, they’ll know I’m not Jazzy. And I don’t know what they’ll do with me then. They may take me to the P-O-U-N-D and then I’ll never see Kathy again.”
“WE WON’T LET THAT HAPPEN. WILL WE, BUDDY?” Mouse asks.
“No,” I say. “We’ll find a way to switch you guys back.”
Somehow.
“But ... I don’t think we’re going to be able to do it now,” I say.
The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon. I hate to leave Muffin here, but Mouse and I have to go home.
“What? You’re not going to leave me here are you?” Muffin cries. “You can’t leave me here!”
“It’s just for a little while,” I promise. “We need to figure out how to get you out of here. And, I want to tell Jazzy what you said about Owen wanting him back.”
Jazzy might change her mind about moving in with Connor and Mom. Then there will be no dog to take care of Connor and Mom when I go to Springtown to find my family.
But I can’t worry about that now. Every dog belongs with their own humans. If Jazzy wants to go home, I have to help her get there.
Unfortunately, finding out what Jazzy wants is harder than I expected it would be.
I thought Mom and Connor would take me back to obedience school. I thought I would see Jazzy there and tell her what Muffin told me.
But day becomes night. And then night becomes day. And day becomes night. And night becomes day. That keeps happening for eleventy-twelve days. I wonder if we are ever going back to obedience school.
Will I ever see Jazzy again? Will she and Muffin ever find a way to switch back?
Then one day, when I’m not expecting it, Mom calls, “Buddy! It’s time to go to obedience school.”
Oh, boy! We are going back. I will see Jazzy again. I’m a happy, happy dog.
But there is a problem when we get to obedience school.
Jazzy isn’t here.
Class starts, and Jazzy still isn’t here. Did Kathy decide not to come? How will I ever find Jazzy?
Today we are working on teaching the humans how to walk nicely. Without pulling on the leash. This is hard for some humans. I don’t know why.
While we are walking ’round and ’round and ’round the circle, the door opens. Jazzy and Kathy walk in.
“Jazzy!” I say. “I’m really happy to see you!”
“Buddy, heel!” Mom says, giving my leash a gentle tug.
See what I mean about this being hard for some humans? Even Mom has a hard time not pulling on the leash. But she’ll get the hang of it. I know she will.
Jazzy and Kathy look for an opening in our circle. I try to slow Mom down so Jazzy and Kathy can join the circle in front of us. But Mom pulls on the leash again.
There is a bigger opening in the circle between Ike and Rosie. Jazzy and Kathy go over there.
“Jazzy, I’ve got some good news,” I call across the circle. “I found Muffin! She says your human is sorry he switched you and Muffin. He misses you. He wants you back.”
“Jazzy! That’s great! We’re so happy for you,” the other dogs cheer.
We all stop walking and sit beside our humans.
“I don’t believe you,” Jazzy says. She turns her head away from me.
“It’s true. You can ask my friend Mouse if you don’t believe me. He heard it, too.”
Jazzy turns one eye back to me. “Really? Are you sure? Does Owen really want me back?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Then I should go back,” Jazzy says.
I agree. “The only problem is I don’t know how to get you back to Owen and get Muffin back to Kathy. You can’t get out at night. And neither can Muffin. She’s not even at your house. She’s at Owen’s grandma’s house.”
“Can you meet at the dog park some afternoon and switch back then?” Ike asks. “That’s where you got switched in the first place.”
“I don’t know. Kathy doesn’t take me to the dog park very often,” Jazzy says.
“And,” I point out, “there’s no way to tell Kathy and Owen to take you both to the dog park at the same time because ... ”
“—humans don’t speak Dog,” all the dogs in class say at the same time.
We all spend the rest of the class thinking about ways to switch Muffin and Jazzy back. But no one comes up with anything until the very end of class.
Then Jazzy says, “I know how we can switch back.”
“How?” I ask.
“Wait until the door opens and everyone starts to leave,” Jazzy says. “Then follow me.”
“What are you going to do, Jazzy?” I ask.
Jazzy doesn’t answer.
“Jazzy?” I say again.
But Jazzy turns her back to me.
Whatever Jazzy has planned, I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.
9
On the Run
Jazzy’s eyes are fixed on Kathy. She’s trying extra hard to make Kathy hold the leash loose as they walk around the circle.
“You’re not going to run away from Kathy when class is over, are you?” I ask Jazzy. I’m afraid that’s exactly what she’s planning. Why else would she say wait until the door opens?
I think of all the bad things that could happen if Jazzy runs away. She could get hit by a car. She could get caught by the dog catcher. She could end up at the P-O-U-N-D.
And if I follow Jazzy, all those things could happen to me, too.
“We’ll see you next week,” the alpha human says.
The humans start gathering up their water bowls and treat bags. Kathy still has a pretty loose hold on Jazzy. Even looser than the hold Connor has on me.
All the dogs are watching Jazzy and me.
“Are you ready?” Jazzy asks.
The Case of the Mixed-Up Mutts Page 3
