Anna, Banana, and the Puppy Parade

by Anica Mrose Rissi

  When Banana was as dry as I could get her, I looked up and saw the bathroom gleaming. Sadie and Isabel had wiped down the walls and sopped up the mess with the extra towels. They’d replaced the ruined toilet paper roll with a new one from under the sink, and put the bath mat and towels straight into the washing machine. It was like the bath had never happened. “Wow,” I said. My friends beamed.

  The only thing still wet and messy was us. “Let’s change into our pajamas now, and hang up our wet clothes to dry,” Isabel said. “Then it will be a true pajama party.”

  We went back to my room and pulled on our PJ’s. I heard the front door open and close, and ran to return Mom’s stuff to the other bathroom before she could notice it was missing.

  “Who wants pizza?” my dad called.

  “We do!” I called back. Banana led the way downstairs to get it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Trick or Feet

  After dinner and ice cream sundaes and helping clear and wash the dishes, we went back upstairs and sat on my rug and brushed Banana until she shined. She was extra soft and beautiful now, thanks to that bath. And she smelled nice, too. The judges were sure to be impressed.

  Isabel got out a bottle of sparkly purple nail polish she’d borrowed from her oldest sister so we could paint Banana’s toes, but Banana wasn’t having it. She squirmed away from us and refused to sit still.

  “Even if we get some on her toenails, it’ll just smudge off on the carpet before it dries,” Sadie pointed out after our third failed attempt. “Let’s paint each other’s toes instead. We should look nice for the parade too.”

  “Yes! Good idea,” I said, taking off my socks and tossing one to Banana. Banana caught it and shook it back and forth, wagging her tail. She may not have liked the spa, but she loves dirty socks.

  “It’s too bad, though,” Isabel said as she wound a piece of Kleenex between her toes to keep them separated for the pedicure. “She’d really stand out if she had sparkly toes.”

  I wanted to jump in and defend Banana. She was already the best dog—she didn’t need sparkly toes to stand out. But I swallowed back the words. I knew Isabel hadn’t meant it to sound mean.

  Sadie shook the bottle of nail polish and turned to me. “I’ll do your toes, you do Isabel’s, and Isabel will do mine,” she said.

  “Okay.” I stretched out my legs toward Sadie. She unscrewed the cap, bent over my feet, and brushed a line of polish onto the first toe.

  “So, what are Banana’s talents?” Isabel asked.

  I thought about it. “She’s a really good listener,” I said. “It’s like she always knows how I’m feeling, even before I say it. She’s fast, too—especially at grabbing food that drops. She’s great at finding stinky things to roll in. And at being adorable and making me laugh.”

  “No, I meant what tricks can she do,” Isabel said. “Ways she can show off for the judges.”

  I looked at Banana. She turned to look behind herself, caught sight of her own tail, and spun in a circle, chasing it. “Well, she can chase her tail,” I joked.

  Isabel giggled, but Sadie frowned. “That’s not really a trick,” she said, moving on to the next toe.

  Banana stopped spinning. Her tail drooped. I gave her a little head scratch to show it was okay.

  “Can she sit? And shake?” Isabel asked.

  “Of course she can sit,” I said. “Banana, sit. Sit!”

  Banana didn’t sit. She ran to get her squeaky toy instead. “Oh yeah!” I said. “That’s her best trick. She fetches the rabbit.” I reached out to take the toy from her mouth, but Banana dodged my grasp. She didn’t want to play fetch. She wanted to play keep-away instead.

  “Hmm,” Isabel said.

  Embarrassment crept up my neck. “I mean, sometimes she plays fetch,” I said. “But look, isn’t she cute with the bunny in her mouth? She could carry it like that in the parade!”

  Isabel tilted her head to one side, like Banana does when she’s confused. “So her trick is that she likes her toy?” she asked.

  My whole face felt hot. When Isabel put it that way, it suddenly didn’t seem all that special.

  “Never mind,” I mumbled.

  “There,” Sadie said. “Don’t your toes look great?”

  Isabel leaned over to admire my feet. “Ooh, pretty!” she said. I wiggled my sparkly toes and tried to smile, but it was hard to force it.

  “Me next!” Sadie said. She scootched her feet toward Isabel and handed off the bottle of polish.

  Banana nudged at my arm with her snout. “Banana, sit,” I repeated. She plopped her butt down beside me. “Good girl,” I said. “Isn’t she good?” But Sadie and Isabel weren’t paying any attention.

  I petted Banana’s silky ears. We didn’t care what anyone else thought anyway.

  At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.

  Chapter Twelve

  Too Much to Juggle

  By the time our toes were all sparkling, it was getting pretty late. Banana stretched and yawned, sticking out her long pink tongue, while Sadie consulted her notebook. “We’re a little behind schedule, but that’s okay,” Sadie said. “We can practice Banana’s walk in the morning, before we brush her again.”

  “Let’s brush her with olive oil to make her fur extra shiny,” Isabel said. “My sister did that to her hair for the eighth-grade dance.”

  Banana swished her tail from side to side. She thought getting covered in olive oil sounded delicious. I wished that had been my idea.

  Isabel blew on her toe polish to help it dry faster. “If there’s a parade again next year, we should teach Banana how to juggle,” she said. “But I guess there’s no time tonight.”

  “Dogs don’t juggle,” I said.

  Isabel changed positions so she could blow on her other foot. “I saw one do it in a cartoon once,” she said. “He had three rubber balls that he hit with his nose and kept them all going while riding around on a unicycle.”

  “That would be amazing,” Sadie said.

  I crossed my arms. “Banana’s not a cartoon!”

  “Well, she wouldn’t have to do the unicycle part,” Isabel said.

  “It’s a dog show, not a circus,” I said as calmly as I could. But I wanted to scream it.

  My friends both looked at me. “Why are you so grumpy?” Sadie asked.

  “I’m not grumpy!” I said. Banana’s eyebrows scrunched together. I could tell she didn’t believe me.

  Isabel put her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Banana’s going to be great. Even without the juggling.”

  Sadie nodded firmly. “For sure,” she said. She bugged out her eyes and sucked her lips into a silly fish face to cheer me up. I made the fish face back, pretending it had worked. I didn’t want her and Isabel to think I was a spoilsport. But I hated feeling like they didn’t think Banana was good enough.

  “I know!” Sadie said. “We’ll make her a costume.” She ran to my closet and rummaged around. She pulled out the things I’d worn for last year’s Halloween: wings, antennae, a tulle skirt, and a tiara. Sadie and I had gone as butterfly fairy princesses—that was before we’d met Isabel. We’d had the best costume in the whole second grade. But that didn’t mean I wanted to put it on Banana. “Banana can wear the wings,” Sadie said. “And maybe some of the other parts too.”

  “Yeah!” Isabel said.

  “No.” I stomped my foot. Isabel’s mouth fell open and Sadie dropped the costume. I looked at the floor to avoid their eyes. “The flier didn’t say anything about costumes,” I mumbled.

  “So a costume will make Banana extra special,” Sadie said.

  “And it will be fun!” Isabel added.

  “Banana’s already special. She doesn’t need wings or juggling or a unicycle,” I said. I blinked hard, trying not to let out any tears. Doing the dog show together was supposed to be fun, but it didn’t feel fun right now. It felt like Sadie and Isabel were ganging up on Banana and me, and trying to turn Banana in
to a completely different dog—a better dog. I wanted to shout, Banana is the best dog there is! but I knew they already thought I was being crazy.

  Everyone was quiet. Finally, Sadie said, “You know what? I’m tired. Let’s figure this out in the morning.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “Fine,” Isabel said.

  We spread out our sleeping bags and brushed our teeth, and when Mom came in to say good night, Banana was already curled up in her basket beside me. “Don’t stay up too late whispering,” Mom said as she turned out the light. “Banana needs her beauty sleep to be ready for the parade.”

  “We won’t,” I promised.

  And for the first time in the history of sleepovers, we didn’t.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bow-wow Meow

  My Nana always says, “A good night’s sleep can cure anything.” I don’t think that’s true at all. One night’s sleep can’t heal a broken leg or fix a flat tire or even cure the flu. But it did seem to cure my bad mood.

  I guess it’s hard to wake up on the wrong side of the bed when you’re not even in bed to start with. When I opened my eyes to the light of the morning—and to Banana pawing at my pillow and my friends sleeping beside me and the smell of Dad making us something delicious downstairs—I couldn’t help but smile. All of my grumpiness from the night before had floated away on a dream cloud. The almost-fight with my friends seemed almost silly now. It was hard to even remember why I’d been so upset.

  I was glad I’d bitten my lip when I’d wanted to scream. That could have gotten really embarrassing.

  I unzipped my sleeping bag and crawled out. Banana helped me nudge Sadie and Isabel awake. “It’s parade day!” I said. Isabel blinked a few times, then sat straight up, her eyes bright with excitement. Sadie stretched and yawned, opening her mouth wide, just as Banana backed up and swished her tail right into it. Sadie yelped and turned over, smushing her face into her pillow. Isabel and I giggled, and Banana wagged even harder. She was glad too that the almost-fight seemed forgotten.

  We rolled up our sleeping bags and got dressed for the parade, and followed Banana downstairs for breakfast. When we’d eaten our fill of waffles with butter and maple syrup, and Banana had gulped down her kibble, I clipped on Banana’s leash. It was time to practice our parade walk.

  We set out around the block with me in the middle, holding on to the leash, and Sadie and Isabel on either side of me. Banana darted ahead of us, sniffing one edge of the sidewalk and then the other.

  “Can you do something to make her walk straight? It will look better if she doesn’t zigzag at the parade,” Sadie said. And just like that, the icky feelings from last night flooded back.

  I tugged at the leash to get Banana’s attention. “She’s just looking for a good spot to pee,” I told Sadie. “And sniffing out who else has been here. Dogs can tell a lot from their sense of smell. They’re like nose detectives.”

  “Banana! The Private Investigator Pooch,” Isabel said in a voice like a TV announcer.

  Banana peed on a patch of grass, then walked straight in front of us like Sadie had wanted. Sadie hooked her arm through mine and Isabel did the same. I felt the tightness in my chest melt and loosen in the sunshine as we rounded the block in perfect step.

  “You know what would be cool?” Isabel said, dropping my arm. “If she trotted like a show pony. You know how they lift their hooves up like this?” She demonstrated a pony prance.

  Sadie joined in. “Giddyup, Banana!” she said.

  Banana lifted one paw and wagged her tail apologetically. “I don’t think she can do that,” I said. Ponies have long legs that they can lift high, but Banana’s only long in the middle. She has short legs and big paws. She’s not built like a pony at all.

  Sadie and Isabel didn’t listen. They pranced in a circle around us. Isabel neighed.

  “Stop it,” I said. I didn’t want Banana to feel bad. It wasn’t her fault that her legs were short. Besides, she was adorable that way. But Sadie and Isabel were too busy prancing and neighing to hear me.

  Sadie stopped beside me and held out her hand. “Maybe if I were holding the leash, she’d—”

  “No!” I snapped. “I’m holding the leash! Banana is my dog.”

  Isabel froze midtrot. She and Sadie both stared at me. I pulled Banana closer.

  “What’s your problem, Anna?” Sadie said.

  “My problem is that you keep trying to change everything about who Banana is!” I yelled.

  “That’s not true!” Sadie said. “We love Banana. We’re just trying to have fun. But all you want to do is be grumpy and shoot down our ideas.”

  “Yeah,” Isabel said. “You keep acting like you don’t even want us to be part of this. Like you don’t want us on your team.”

  “Yes, I do!” I said. “But you keep trying to take over. Banana’s my dog and I know her best, so I should get to have the final say.”

  Isabel put her hands on her hips. “If that’s how you feel, maybe you should enter Banana all by yourself. Maybe I’ll go home and get Mewsic, and Sadie and I will do the parade with her.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You can’t enter a cat in a dog parade!”

  “Oh yeah?” Isabel said. Her chin quivered as she turned away from me. “Hey, Sadie,” she said. “Would you rather enter the parade with a cat or a big meanie?”

  I snapped my jaw shut. It was the nastiest thing I’d ever heard Isabel say. I didn’t even want to hear Sadie’s answer. I ran into the house with Banana right beside me, before Sadie could reply.

  We dashed up the stairs and into my room, and I slammed my door behind us. As soon as it was shut, my cheeks were covered in tears. Now that I’d started crying, it felt like I might never stop.

  Banana looked at the door and looked at me. She whined softly.

  “It’s okay, Banana,” I said, wiping my leaky eyes.

  Banana did not look convinced.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hide-and-Seek

  Banana flattened her whole body against the carpet and put her nose up to the crack at the bottom of my door. She let out a huge sigh. With my sniffles and Banana’s sighs, it was what my Nana would have called a Pity Parade. We were both feeling very sorry for ourselves.

  I knew Banana missed Sadie and Isabel and wanted them to return. I did too. I was secretly hoping they had followed us inside and would come upstairs to apologize. As soon as they appeared, I’d apologize too. I didn’t want us to be fighting.

  I waited. No Isabel. No Sadie.

  Fine. Banana and I were going to have plenty of fun in the parade without them. And they’d be sorry once Banana won Best in Show and got super famous.

  I would probably accept their apologies and let them come visit us in Banana’s new mansion-sized doghouse, with a sunroom for her and a waterslide for me, and golden bowls filled with dog treats and girl treats, plus lots of servants to bring us whatever else we wanted. But we wouldn’t invite them to guest star on her TV show. And we wouldn’t let Isabel bring along her dumb cat. There would be no cats allowed, for sure.

  I blew my nose. There wasn’t any more time for moping and crying. We needed to get ready to go to the parade.

  I went to the bathroom to wash my face so no one would be able to tell I’d been crying. When my face was dry and my hair was combed, I went down to the kitchen to get the olive oil for Banana’s fur. I wasn’t really sure how much of it we were supposed to brush in, and I was a little bit worried it might just make a big mess, but Banana and I would figure it out. We didn’t need Isabel or Sadie to help us. I tried to stop secretly wishing that they would.

  “Okay, Banana,” I said as I stepped into my room with the bottle. But Banana wasn’t there.

  “Banana!” I called. “Here, Banana!” I poked my head into the hallway, expecting to see her running toward me, ears flopping. But I didn’t see her at all.

  “Banana?” I tried again. “Banana, come!”

  I peeked into the bath
room and my parents’ room and Chuck’s room, but Banana wasn’t upstairs. I called her name as I went downstairs, thinking maybe she was in the kitchen or the living room, or even Dad’s study. But Banana was nowhere to be found. I went back to the living room and checked under the couch. There were three dog toys underneath it, but no dog.

  I stood in the kitchen and shook the container of dog treats, a sound that always, always brings Banana running. But this time, it didn’t.

  “Banana!” I shouted. “Where are you hiding?”

  I moved back toward the front of the house, but as I reached the staircase, I froze. My heart sped up and my stomach dropped to my toes as I noticed something awful.

  The front door was open.

  It was open just wide enough for a small dog to slip through it and run outside.

  Banana wasn’t hiding. She was gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Doggone It

  “Banana!” I screamed, racing out the door. My brain spun and my insides jerked like I was riding a Tilt-A-Whirl. I was dizzy with panic.

  What if Banana had run into the street? What if she got lost or stolen, or was trapped someplace where she couldn’t get out? Too many terrible things could happen. I had to find her, fast.

  I rushed to the sidewalk and looked up the street in one direction, then the other. I couldn’t see Banana, or any signs of which way she’d gone. So many minutes had passed before I’d noticed she was missing—by now she could be almost anywhere.

  Why hadn’t I been more careful? I should have remembered that the front door was acting tricky lately. I should have remembered to pull it shut tight behind me, but I’d been too upset about the fight with Isabel and Sadie. Now Banana was missing and it was all my fault. I should never have let this happen.