by Daphne Maple
Kim’s face fell.
“Give it time,” I told her. “The flyers have only been up for a few hours. I bet at least one potential client will get in touch tonight.”
“And I’ll text you guys the minute they do,” Sasha promised.
We said good-bye and I headed home for my night to cook dinner. I kept an eye on my phone for the rest of the night, but it never rang.
It was misty the next morning as Kim and I stood on the corner of Spring Street waiting for Sasha. The air was heavy, which meant rain was coming, and I hoped we’d make it to school before it began.
“I bet she’s on her way,” I said, taking out my phone in case she’d sent a text I didn’t hear. But there were no missed messages.
“She said she was going to be up late with her homework last night,” Kim said worriedly. “I hope she didn’t oversleep.”
But just then we saw her running up the block in big blue rain boots that would trip anyone but graceful Sasha.
“Is everything okay?” I asked as she came up. Then I saw the expression on her face and my heart dropped. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you guys seen the latest on the Pampered Puppy website?” she asked in a tight voice.
Kim and I both shook our heads.
Sasha was pulling out her phone. “It turns out we need to start keeping tabs on these people because they just keep getting worse,” she said. “Look at this.”
Kim and I bent our heads over the small screen. The mean ad that had been there before was replaced by quotes from their clients.
“They copied us!” I exclaimed indignantly. Brianna’s mom clearly didn’t believe in playing fair.
“Yeah, but it’s even worse than that,” Sasha said. “Look at the first quote.”
Kim took the phone and read the text out loud. “‘I’ve tried other places in town, but only Pampered Puppy takes the right kind of care of my dog. They treat her like she should be treated.’”
“That’s not that bad,” I started to say, wanting to keep things positive.
But then Kim looked up, and I could tell she was fighting back tears. “It’s written by Mrs. Whitman, Clarabelle’s owner.”
Her words were like a slap. Mrs. Whitman had been so angry when we allowed fluffy white Clarabelle to get muddy the day after she’d been groomed. And now Pampered Puppy had her telling everyone what a bad job she thought we’d done.
I opened my mouth to say something positive, but nothing came to me.
Because this was really bad.
13
It had been a hard morning, and I was so ready to get to lunch to commiserate with Sasha and Kim that I skipped stopping at my locker and headed right to the cafeteria when the bell rang. But it turned out that was a terrible idea: the moment I stepped into the steamy buffet area, the first person I saw was Brianna. She smiled when she noticed me and headed over. Uh-oh.
I braced myself, ready to keep my expression casual no matter what she said.
“You must have been so embarrassed in science, New Girl,” Brianna began.
I felt a warmth creep across my face as I remember the humiliating moment she was bringing up. Ms. Lewis had called on me to answer a really simple question about photosynthesis, but I’d been distracted, thinking about Pampered Puppy, and said the totally wrong thing. People had snickered, and I saw one girl rolling her eyes. It just figured that Brianna would bring it up.
She was eyeing me now, waiting to see my reaction. I decided to try laughing it off and opened my mouth, letting out a giggle. It was too high and too loud. Brianna stepped back and a crease appeared between her brows, like she thought I might be going insane. “I can see it really bothered you,” she said. “I don’t blame you. It was totally humiliating when everyone laughed.”
“Not everyone,” I said quickly, because they hadn’t. Some people hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t even notice. But then I remembered I was supposed to act like I didn’t care, so I shrugged.
Brianna didn’t seem to notice the shrug. “Right, I can see how you’d want to believe that,” she said silkily. “Honestly, you should have seen your face. I wish I’d had a camera.”
With that she flounced off to go ruin someone else’s day. Or more likely plot how to next ruin mine. I sighed. Showing I didn’t care wasn’t working so well, probably because I did care, a lot. And I wasn’t so good at hiding it.
The room was starting to fill up, so I headed over to get my yogurt. I wasn’t hungry but I figured I’d be even more out of it if I didn’t eat something. And I didn’t want to risk another mortifying experience like the one in science. I was in line to pay when Kim and Sasha arrived.
“Hey,” Sasha said, grinning when she saw me.
Kim smiled too and that helped a lot. No matter how bad things got with Brianna or Pampered Puppy, I always had Kim and Sasha, and that was everything.
We headed over to our table, greeted our friends, and then got down to business.
“I was thinking about it,” Kim said, unwrapping her sandwich. “And the thing with Clarabelle wasn’t something we did wrong, not really. I mean, dogs play outside and sometimes they get dirty. We were taking good care of her and she was safe. That’s what matters, not a little mud.”
Sasha was nodding. “That’s a good point,” she said. “And Mrs. Whitman hadn’t asked us to keep Clarabelle clean.”
“Or to keep her inside,” I added. I was feeling a little better as I opened my yogurt.
“Right,” Kim said, nodding. “I mean, we should have been more clear about what we do in the club, but we didn’t do anything wrong. We really did take good care of Clarabelle, and she had a lot of fun at our Dog Club.”
I was nodding but Sasha was starting to frown. “How do we tell people that, though?” she asked. “I agree we weren’t at fault, but can we post that on our website?”
I shook my head. “Definitely not.” I didn’t know much about running a business but I knew we couldn’t get into some kind of battle of words with Mrs. Whitman. We’d sound like we were accusing her, and nothing good would come of that.
“The point is that we have an answer if any potential customers ask us about Mrs. Whitman’s quote,” Kim said. She set down her sandwich and leaned forward. “I think people looking for a doggy day care will check us out and also look into Pampered Puppy. Our job is to present our club in the best way we can, which our flyers totally do. And to be able to answer any questions honestly and openly, which we can.”
Now Sasha was nodding. “And if someone asks us what Mrs. Whitman is talking about, we can say it was a case of a dog having so much fun she got a little dirty.”
“Exactly,” Kim agreed.
As they began eating again, I licked some yogurt off my spoon. Everything Kim and Sasha said made sense, yet one thing nagged at me: What if people just listened to Mrs. Whitman and never even called to hear our side of things?
But there was no point in worrying about that. We’d have to hope that people would give us the benefit of the doubt.
Or better yet, see our flyers and know right off that we were the best ones to take care of their dogs!
“I have a business dinner tonight, girls,” my dad said at breakfast the next morning. “Are you okay fending for yourselves?”
“No problem,” Tasha said. “We’ve got it covered.”
“Is it another client dinner?” I asked. I was eating the granola Jasmine had made over the weekend, and it was really good. Except she always put in dried apricots, and I didn’t like those.
My dad hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“With Sasha’s mom?” I asked.
My dad looked surprised. “Why do you ask?”
That was kind of weird. They worked together, so my question seemed normal, at least to me. “I just like hearing about it,” I said, picking out a soggy slice of dried apricot and setting it next to my bowl.
My dad smiled. “Right,” he said. “I think she will be there, yes.�
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“You should make plans for something fun,” I said, remembering how great it was when our families were at Lake George together for a whole month over the summer. “Like maybe a weekend trip or a picnic.” Kim could come along too.
“Those are nice ideas,” my dad said. “But this is really more of a business event.” He picked up his empty bowl and rinsed it out. He usually had to leave a few minutes before we did.
“Dad did say it was a client dinner,” Anna pointed out as my dad blew us a kiss and headed for the door.
I ignored her and pulled another apricot from my cereal.
“Can you stop being disgusting with your food?” Anna asked, annoyed.
Now I glared. “I’m not doing anything,” I snapped.
“You have that gross little pile of apricots,” Anna said, gesturing with her spoon. “It’s totally killing my appetite.”
I was about to say something biting when Tasha nodded. “She’s right, it’s nasty,” she agreed.
Now I glared at her. What a backstabber.
Tasha held up her hands. “I’m just saying, maybe cover them with a napkin or something.”
I practically threw my napkin over them.
“Or you could just eat them,” Jasmine added. “They’re good for you.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what kind of person doesn’t like apricots,” Anna said. She was clearly thrilled everyone agreed with her.
I picked up my stuff and stalked over to the sink. Now it was my appetite that was gone.
Being the youngest sister was definitely the worst.
14
“We are the champions!” Tim shouted, holding his arms up in victory, then reaching over to give me a high five.
I slapped his hand with gusto, then bent down to snuggle Gracie. “You were the star with that last-minute basket,” I told her, kissing the top of her soft head.
We’d spent the afternoon at the shelter in a high-energy and often hilarious game of doggy basketball. Tim and I coached Gracie, Popsicle, Daisy, and Lily, while Kim and Caley led Boxer, Mr. S, Gus, and Coco. Sasha had been the ref, and Humphrey opted for a sideline role.
“I think you guys had a flagrant foul by Lily,” Caley said with a pretend pout, “the way she grabbed the basket in her mouth and tipped it over so Boxer missed his shot. I’m calling for a rematch.”
“That was great strategy,” Tim said, running his fingers through his black hair and making it stand on end. “But Taylor and I will take you guys on any day.”
“That’s right,” I said, grinning. “And be careful you don’t question the integrity of the ref.”
Sasha grinned. “Actually, I missed that because I was trying to get Humphrey to cheerlead.”
We all laughed at that. It had been another terrific day at Dog Club. Well, except for one thing: Hattie hadn’t come. The Wongs had left a message about not picking her up but they didn’t say why. We were all a little worried, plus we missed her. The shelter wasn’t the same without our Hattie.
The front door opened and Mr. Washington came in. Gus was busy playing tug-of-war with Boxer, and Mr. Washington looked pleased as he watched. After a minute or two, Gus had lost and he went over to his owner, panting slightly from his active day.
“Looks like he got a good workout today,” Mr. Washington said as he stroked Gus’s head.
“We all did,” Caley said with a grin.
Mr. Washington smiled as he set out with Gus, passing Mrs. Cronin on his way. Popsicle rushed up to greet her owner while Humphrey took his time walking over.
“How were my babies today?” Mrs. Cronin asked. She was in a silky suit and heels from her job at the bank but still got right down to hug her dogs.
“Magnificent as always,” I told her.
“That’s what I like to hear,” she said as Popsicle planted a big wet kiss on her cheek.
We waved as they headed out. A moment later, Daisy’s and Coco’s owners arrived, and then all the Dog Club dogs were gone, except of course for Mr. S.
“Can you guys just pick up the toys and laundry basket before you leave?” Alice asked. She had come out of her office to say good-bye to the dogs, and her Snoopy shirt was covered with fur. I looked down and saw that my red T-shirt was the same. I guess there must have been extra shedding during the game of doggy basketball. “And then I think we’re all set.”
“Sure,” Sasha said. She’d been snuggling with Lily and Mr. S but stood up to start gathering toys.
Just then the front door opened again and Ms. Wong walked in. I automatically looked behind her to see if she’d brought Hattie, but it was just Ms. Wong, brushing back her hair and looking nervous.
My stomach clenched up.
“Is everything okay?” Alice asked. Her voice was calm but her face was tense and I knew she was worried too. Why would Ms. Wong come here alone, after Dog Club? Was something wrong with Hattie?
“Everything is fine and Hattie is well,” Ms. Wong said, sounding hesitant. “It’s just . . . we’ve made a change, and I felt I owed it to you to tell you in person.”
Sasha glanced at me, her brow furrowed, and Kim was biting her lip. We all moved closer to Ms. Wong, waiting. Even the dogs seemed to pick up on the tension in the room and played quietly.
“You’ve been wonderful allowing us to adopt Hattie,” Ms. Wong said. “And I know she has a good time when she comes to visit. But after thinking about it, we’ve decided to take Hattie out of the Dog Club.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Ms. Wong went on.
“Hattie’s having trouble following commands, so we want her to go to a program that supports what she’s learning in her weekend obedience classes,” she said, twisting a lock of her long black hair. “And my husband and I are also worried that it confuses Hattie to keep coming to the shelter. She might think we plan to leave her here and not understand that she lives with us now.”
Kim shot me a stricken look. I grabbed her hand on one side and Sasha’s on the other. This was awful and we had to talk Ms. Wong out of it!
Alice started to speak, but Ms. Wong held up a hand. “I know how much you love her, and we appreciate that, we really do,” she said. “But Hattie is going to go to the nicer dog day care, the one at Pampered Puppy. They’re going to develop a program to help with her training. It’s the right thing for Hattie, and I hope you understand.”
Kim was squeezing my hand so hard it hurt, and Sasha’s eyes were wide with dismay. I felt like I’d been hit in the stomach. Hattie was going to Pampered Puppy? We couldn’t let this happen.
I drew in a breath to protest, to beg Ms. Wong to reconsider, but then Alice glanced at all of us and I knew she was the one who needed to speak.
“We know you want what’s best for Hattie,” Alice said carefully. “Please know she’s always welcome here.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Ms. Wong said. She walked out, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she went, closing the door firmly behind her.
“Alice, how can we let her take Hattie away?” Kim cried.
“We have to try to talk her out of it,” Sasha said. There were tears in her eyes, and Mr. S, sensing her distress, rushed over and pressed himself against her legs. She scooped him up and cuddled him close. “We can help train Hattie without some stupid specialized program. And we love Hattie way more than the professionals at Pampered Puppy.”
“I know how sad this makes all of you,” Alice said with a sigh. “But the Wongs are first-time owners trying to find their way, and it’s not our place to tell them how to do it, not if they don’t ask for our help. And I think they’ve sent a pretty clear message that what they need right now is some space.”
“Do you really think being here was confusing for Hattie?” I asked. I was leaning against the wall patting Boxer. He clearly sensed the mood of the room and was being unusually calm.
“I don’t think so,” Alice said, pulling a piece of dog fur off her shirt. “Dogs are smart and Hattie knows
the Wongs are her people.”
“Mr. S knew right away that he lived with me,” Sasha agreed. She still sounded slightly tearful, though I could tell it helped that Mr. S was snuggled in under her chin, warm and cozy. “He wasn’t confused at all.”
“If the Wongs really thought Hattie didn’t understand, why didn’t they talk to us?” Kim asked. She had slid down to sit on the floor, and Lily and Gracie were in her lap. “They always acted like everything was fine.”
“Actually, now that I think about it, Ms. Wong did seem a little worried sometimes at pickup,” Caley said with a sigh. “I didn’t think it was a big deal or I would have said something. But looking back now, I can see it.” She was starting to gather toys, and I went to help her.
“But what exactly made her worried?” Kim asked.
“I think it was the way Hattie didn’t go right over to her,” Caley said.
“But some dogs don’t greet their owners first thing,” I said, thinking of how Gus had finished his game with Boxer before greeting Mr. Washington today.
“Right, but remember the Wongs don’t have as much dog experience as you,” Alice reminded us. “To them it might have seemed like Hattie was having more fun here than she does at home with them.”
“But I’m sure that’s not true,” Sasha burst out. “Hattie loves them; you can see it so clearly if you just look.”
“I guess they weren’t looking at the right things,” I said sadly.
“But Pampered Puppy,” Sasha moaned. “How can they send her there instead of to us, where she belongs?”
None of us had an answer to that because it was just too awful. Not only had we lost Hattie but we’d lost a customer, something the Dog Club simply could not afford.
We finished the cleanup and headed for home.
“Maybe Hattie will come back to visit,” Sasha said when we got to the corner where we separated.
“Yeah, maybe,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.
But I think we all knew that our time with Hattie had come to an end and there was nothing we could do to change it.
