Darcy turned the stream back on me. “You going to keep trying?”
Picking up a towel, Susan shook her head.
Thank you, dog heaven.
“Wonder if the city council is really trying to scuttle the library budget,” mused Darcy.
Susan laughed. “Ha. Emily’s the biggest gossip. Who believes her?”
I didn’t know whether to pray to dog heaven for the program to end so I’d be happy, or pray that it continued for Darcy and Buster’s sake. Letting out a sigh, I let Susan wrap me up in the towel.
Buster and I lay on a blanket beside the small book shelves. Jazzy already had a boy reading something about airplanes to her. Susan pulled Jazzy’s fur. Mrs. Krebbs gave her a nasty look. Susan lowered her gaze and let her hand drop.
As I sat on the blanket, I wiggled and looked out the window, watching birds pick up crumbs.
“You going to give it an honest chance, Belle?” Buster rumbled.
“I guess I’ll discipline myself to be still, Buster, like I do at the starting line before Darcy sends me on an agility run. Then I’ll see what happens with the kids.”
Before he could answer, a young woman led a girl in green slacks and a striped sweater into our area. With a giggle, she bounced up to Buster.
He greeted her with a tail thump and a gentle rumble in his throat.
I tried to cut through the paper, ink and people smells to find her scent. When I did, it reminded me of cinnamon and nutmeg. A happy odor.
Opening a book, she began to read. Darcy and Margaret listened.
Cocking his head, Buster let his tongue loll. She flung an arm around him, voice growing stronger.
I put my head on my paws and watched Buster.
Flopping down, he plopped his paw on the little girl’s book.
She kissed his nose.
Rabid cats. No way could I imitate his goofy movements without feeling like a flea brain.
The smell of snapdragons and brown sugar wafted to me. I lifted my head.
Katherine stood in front of me, the dog book under her arm. Josie held her free hand.
Oh, bones. Had Emily come too? Or had she been banned from the library? Wriggling my nose, I sniffed, but did not locate her stench. How many was ten sun times? Hopefully a bone pile.
To double check that she was not near, I glanced around. Jazzy, Mrs. Krebbs, and Susan still listened to the little boy with his airplanes. No other therapy dogs had come in. That left me. Sighing, I sat up and wagged my tail.
Scooting away from Buster and Margaret, Darcy settled beside me and patted my head. “Hi, Katherine,” she said. “Would you like to read to Belle?”
Forcing myself to focus on Katherine, I cocked my head and tried to look cute like Buster did. I felt ridiculous.
Katherine looked up at Josie. “Can I, Auntie?”
Her aunt laughed. “Sure. Go on.”
Josie’s kind smell reminded me of Auntie Ellen back in Illinois. A lump tightened my throat, and I swallowed hard. I missed Auntie Ellen, and wished I were with her, Painter and Misty, instead of in this flea brained library.
Katherine sat down near me. “Hi, Belle,” she whispered. “You’re sweet. Just like Buster.”
Well, that was a surprise. Did I look less silly lying on this blanket than I thought I did?
“Let’s get comfy and read,” Darcy suggested.
Settling near Katherine, I extended a paw and laid it on her book, ready to jerk away if she pinched me or played rough.
Katherine caressed my foot. Her fingers tickled, but the touch didn’t feel bad. “It must have hurt when my stupid sister threw stones at you. She got her cell phone taken away from her, and dad grounded her for two weeks.”
Darcy exhaled with what sounded like relief. Whatever grounded meant, it was dog heaven if it kept Emily away from the library.
I lifted my gaze to Katherine’s gray eyes. They looked back at me with gentleness. The look reminded me of meeting Darcy so many sun times ago.
I sniffed, and under the snapdragons detected sour stomach and dried leaves. I nuzzled Katherine’s hand. Her happy smell got stronger.
“Belle’s ready to read.” Darcy smiled.
Okay, might as well get comfortable. Shifting my hind legs, I burrowed into the blanket.
Katherine looked at the page. “Shepherd dogs.”
I kept my ears cocked toward her voice, but soon my mind wandered. How high could I jump if Darcy kept raising the hoop? What if Bob built a dog walk to prance across as I had at agility meets? Dog heaven—as long as he didn’t build a teeter totter.
I glanced at Buster. His tongue still lolled. His little reader finished the book he had brought from the shelves.
“Very good, Jack,” Margaret smiled. “Buster, would you pawdagraph a library poster for us?” She picked up a picture of a dog looking at a book and lifted Buster’s foot.
He let her put it on a dark square that smelled like ink. She pressed his pads onto the picture. When she let him go, Buster flopped down and licked between his toes.
Dog heaven, why can’t I be comfortable with being a therapy dog? He made it look so easy. I felt like growling at him.
Something popped close to me, and I jerked my gaze back to Katherine.
She had shut the book and now smelled like happy snapdragons, with no hint of sour stomach or dried leaves.
Josie and Mrs. Redhouse beamed down at her. Josie wiped the corner of her eye as if it had a tear in it. “Great job, Katherine.”
Mrs. Redhouse handed Katherine a paper. “You know, since you are getting good at reading aloud, something else you might do is tell a story at our spring storytelling festival. You can make one up, or find one to tell.”
“Oh my,” exclaimed Josie. “How about that, Katherine?”
Before Katherine could answer, a tall man in a dark suit walked up to us. I’d never seen him before, but he had to be Mr. Robinson, the mayor, because he had the same round face that Katherine had. His slim build resembled Emily’s, as did his high cheek bones, thin lips and wide set eyes.
My nose wiggled and I sought out his scent. It smelled like papers and leather, as if he’d been in an office.
Katherine jumped to her feet and waved her book. “Daddy, guess what?”
He squatted to look her in the eye, catching the flapping pages as he balanced on his toes. “What, Kitten?”
I recognized the voice that had ordered Emily into the Robinsons’ den after she threw the stones. Now it was gentle.
Katherine clapped her hands. “I read three pages. And Belle helped. She really did.”
I felt like a dog pile. I hadn’t heard a word she said. Okay, girl, use more discipline.
Josie and Mr. Robinson smiled. So did Darcy. She smelled as happy as Katherine.
Buster was right. Being a therapy dog meant something to her and Katherine. I needed to try to accept it, silly as it felt.
Katherine gazed at the man. “Can I come again next time, Daddy? Please?”
With a laugh, he rose. “Well, I think you could do just as well reading aloud at home to one of us, don’t you, Kitten?”
“If somebody would take time to listen and praise her,” Josie muttered so low that I had to cock my ears to catch her words.
“But you and Mother are always busy. And now that Emily’s grounded, she’s a grouch.” Katherine’s face puckered into a frown. “Please let me come, Daddy, please. I want a picture with a dog’s paw on it. You get one if you read a whole book.”
The laughter vanished from Mr. Robinson’s gray eyes. “If you come to the library, Auntie Josie will have to close her shop.”
“You or mother could bring me.”
“Your mother has a busy law practice, you know that. And I can’t always get away either.” Leaning down and hugging her, he sighed.
&nbs
p; “I’d be happy to shut the shop early a couple of times a week,” Josie cut in.
Mr. Robinson pushed his graying brown hair out of his face. “The dog reading program is probably going to stop soon, anyway. The city is going to have to cut a part time library position to meet the library budget.” Biting his lip, he looked at Margaret.
I heard Susan and Darcy gasp. Mrs. Redhouse and Margaret exchanged a glance with them. A question filled Darcy’s eyes.
Margaret shrugged. “I was the last person hired,” Margaret murmured.
“The city will, will it?” Muttering Josie folded her arms.
“Why can’t we have the program?” Katherine tugged his sleeve. “It’s a whole lot funner than reading at school.”
“Because the half time positions at the library cover things like the reading therapy program. Mrs. Redhouse won’t have time to oversee it if she doesn’t have help. Now put the book away, and let’s go home.” Her father’s face and voice darkened, and he began to smell like pepper. “We need to check on your sister.”
“All right.” Sticking out her lower lip, Katherine slouched to the shelf and tossed the book into a pile of other volumes. Feet dragging, she returned to the blanket and patted me.
I felt sorry for her.
Mrs. Redhouse turned to Katherine. “Think about doing the storytelling festival. We get donations for it, so we will be able to hire a special person to help us during the short time we’re doing it.”
Katherine put her hands on her hips. “So why can’t you hire a special person for the reading therapy program?”
“Because it’s much longer than the story telling festival.” Mrs. Redhouse said. “The library would run out of donations for it.”
Her father took her hand. “Come on, let’s go. Emily’s home alone.”
Katherine pulled free of his grip and knelt beside me again.
Pepper rolled off Josie like she was some stirred up potato soup.
Katherine stroked my head. “Goodbye, Belle. I liked reading to you. Maybe I can come back someday.”
I felt like a bigger dog pile.
Josie glared at Mayor Robinson. “You take the cake,” she muttered low enough to qualify for the dog channel. Putting a hand on Katherine’s shoulder, she said, “We’ll get you here next week. The program isn’t going to go away by then. You will get your pawdagraphed poster.”
I began to like Josie even more than I did the day she rescued me, Jazzy and Buster from the catch pole man, and touched her fingers with my whiskers. She knew how to stand up to flea-brained people.
Josie squeezed Katherine’s palm. “Let’s work on something for the storytelling festival, too. We have lots of good family tales, don’t we, sweetie?”
Katherine shrugged.
“You could do one about your great aunt. She got to be the president of Appleton’s bank.”
Katherine nodded, eyes returning to me. “Belle, will you listen to my story if I tell it? It’s about my Great Aunt Katherine Wright.”
I sighed. She smelled so nice plus the fact that Josie had been so nice to us. What else could I say to Katherine but ‘Yes, I’ll listen to your story?’ I pressed my nose against Katherine’s wrist and wagged my tail.
Chapter 11
Searching and Trying
“Yes, Mrs. Redhouse,” Margaret said into the phone a few dark times later after we’d all eaten dinner.
Darcy swished a rag over the table. Mrs. Krebbs would arrive soon to take her and Susan to a choral rehearsal for the Christmas concert.
I gave my food bowl a final lick and lay down on my sleeping blanket next to Buster. He didn’t speak, so I watched Margaret.
Mrs. Redhouse must have had a lot to say because Margaret grabbed a pen and wrote on a tablet. When she had filled several sheets, she said. “We’ll be there,” and hung up.
Darcy’s cheeks turned pink. “What’s happening, Mom?”
“Mrs. Redhouse and Katherine’s Aunt Josie are preparing to ask the city council to keep the part time library aide position at least through this school year. We’ll be going to their meeting next Tuesday.”
“Wow,” Darcy exclaimed. “What a social studies project this is turning out to be.”
I thought of Katherine’s snapdragon smell and found myself half hoping the program would go on for her sake.
Stooping, Darcy patted me. “If the program gets cut, I don’t think it will break your heart.”
My stomach sank into my paws. How disappointed she must be in me. I needed to try harder to be a good therapy dog.
“Belle did better the last time at the library. Keep working with her.” Margaret took the dish rag from Darcy and finished wiping the table.
Darcy kept rubbing me. “I think Buster’s the better therapy dog. He just has the personality for it. Belle doesn’t, I don’t think. Maybe I should stop taking her to the library.”
Buster wagged his tail.
I felt like a mound of garbage, and I gave Buster a mean look.
“It took Belle time to learn agility.” Margaret rubbed my shoulder. “She’ll get the hang of being a therapy dog, too. At least stick out the school year with her.”
“Buster, you lucky mutt,” I growled. My stomach did flip flops.
He ignored me.
Outside, a horn honked. Darcy snatched her music off a chair. “That’s Susan. Bye, Mom.” Giving Margaret a kiss, she darted toward the den’s main door.
“Good luck singing with Emily,” Margaret called.
Wrinkling her nose, Darcy pulled her jacket on. “We did better last rehearsal when Mrs. Merriwether told Emily to put some effort into doing the song or give up being section leader.” Darcy pulled on her coat with a sigh. “Sometimes I wish chorus season would end like soccer season does.”
Then she paused, “Y’know mom, I think you were right that there are things going on with the Robinsons. From what Mr. Robinson said to Katherine the other day at the library, it sounds like he and Mrs. Robinson are so wound up in their jobs they don’t make room for anything or anybody else.”
Arching her brow Margaret smiled but said nothing.
Buster gave me a long look.
“I also wonder if being the mayor’s daughter has gone to Emily’s head.” Smelling like dead leaves and pepper, Darcy shook her head. “Still, Belle, Buster and I shouldn’t have to pay for it.” Sighing she opened the den door.
She was right that we shouldn’t have to pay for whatever bothered Emily, but still I’d better figure out how to be patient at the library until the next hot time. Darcy had enough trouble in her supper dish without me adding more garbage to it.
Darcy’s scent faded as she stepped outside.
I looked at Buster. “Okay, how do you do this job?”
He opened one eye and closed it again.
* * *
A few dark times later, Darcy led me and Buster up a walk to a large den. White and blue lights covered the bushes lining our way. Inside, a plastic thing that looked like a fir tree took up part of the hall. It must be close to the time Darcy called Christmas.
Steering us around the tree, Darcy followed Margaret into a smaller burrow with seats in raised rows.
Wriggling my nose, I discovered Katherine’s scent and spotted her sitting in front of a curved table that resembled half a ball. Several children I’d seen at the library sat near her with Josie and Mrs. Redhouse.
Susan and Mrs. Krebbs waved from the middle row. Jazzy wagged her tail. Other therapy dogs and their owners had settled near Susan and her mother.
Margaret and Darcy sat down with them, and I lay on the floor next to Jazzy.
A door opened in one of the burrow side walls, and men and women walked to the table and pulled chairs away from it. I recognized Mayor Robinson in the middle of the group.
Katherine
waved to him, but he didn’t respond. Picking up a wooden hammer, he thumped the table. “The Appleton City Council will come to order.” He smelled like ink and paper, all business.
The group began jabbering about stuff that I didn’t understand. Sometimes, they took turns saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’ but mostly they talked.
I turned to Jazzy. “How do you get to be a good therapy dog?”
“I don’t know.” She scratched her nose with her paw. “I just cuddle up to the kid who’s reading and let stuff happen.”
I swallowed. “But how did you get to like doing it?”
“I didn’t have to,” Jazzy replied. “I enjoyed it from the beginning.”
Well, maybe I should try being floppy and cuddly. Maybe I was too stiff.
Darcy tugged at my leash, and I realized Jazzy was following Susan toward the table, where Margaret stood with Josie, Mrs. Redhouse, Katherine, and the kids.
As we joined them, Mrs. Redhouse spoke. “We are here tonight to ask the city council to consider keeping the library’s half time position at least through this school year. The individuals in these positions do tasks and duties which enhance the library’s services. These include assisting at the reference desk, shelving books, helping with our after school programs including overseeing homework, or sorting mail and books and magazine that come in. One very important program the part timers oversee is the dog reading therapy program. To explain why it is so important, I would like to introduce one of our part time library staff who is a trained school counselor.” She nodded at Margaret.
Glancing at notes in her hand, Margaret made eye contact with the mayor. “Research shows that therapy dog programs improve reading scores after ten weeks. Library therapy dog programs reinforce what the children learn in the class room...”
“Why would that be?” Mayor Robinson interrupted her.
“Kids feel comfortable with dogs, and the dogs don’t scold them when they make a mistake.”
I stared at Buster and Jazzy. Of course not. Why should we scold? Stretching my neck, I licked Katherine’s hand.
Belle's Challenge Page 9
