Harvey Holds His Own
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Praise for Harvey Comes Home
“[T]his gently paced, character-driven narrative captivates on every level, transforming a ‘lost dog’ story into a deeper reading experience. Present-day and historical time lines (with a few grim moments) are seamlessly interwoven and keep readers invested. Back matter reveals that the tale was inspired by Nelson’s (Finding Hope) grandfather, accounting for the book’s authentic, intimate feel. Nelson’s first middle grade novel is heartwarming and inspirational; a first purchase.”—School Library Journal Starred Review
“Throughout, alternating third-person chapters from Maggie, Harvey, and Austin give readers a rounded view of each prominent character….Dog lovers will drool over this multi-generational story.”—Booklist
“Affecting, riveting, and evocative, this character-driven tale within a tale…believably reveals the best and sometimes the worst of human nature….Much more than a lost-dog story.”—Kirkus Reviews
“Harvey Comes Home is a gentle story about a slow build to friendship between generations that would be of interest to all readers and a wonderful choice for reading aloud. Harvey Comes Home is about so much more than a lost dog, and I can see this book being one that any reader would treasure. Highly Recommended.”—CM Magazine
“Colleen Nelson has written a new book that will especially resonate with pet lovers….Mid-grade readers will enjoy this story of love, loyalty and endurance, in which Tara Anderson shows her versatility by supplying charming black-and-white illustrations.”—Winnipeg Free Press
“In her first middle-grade novel, [Colleen Nelson] is able to grab the reader’s heartstrings while blending a dog story with an intergenerational relationship and embedding profound reflections on the Depression and the Dust Bowl. It’s a complete package as Harvey’s, Maggie’s and Austin’s stories converge, integrated with heart and important messages about connecting with others and forgiveness for mistakes made when scared, hurt or alone.”—CanLit for LittleCanadians
Copyright
First published in Canada and the United States in 2020
Text copyright © 2020 Colleen Nelson
Illustration copyright © 2020 Tara Anderson
This edition copyright © 2020 Pajama Press Inc.
This is a first edition.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free 1.800.893.5777.
www.pajamapress.ca info@pajamapress.ca
The publisher gratefully acknowledges the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for its publishing program. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund (CBF) for our publishing activities.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Title: Harvey holds his own / by Colleen Nelson ; illustrations by Tara Anderson.
Names: Nelson, Colleen, author. | Anderson, Tara, illustrator.
Identifiers: Canadiana 20200157981 | ISBN 9781772781144 (hardcover)
Classification: LCC PS8627.E555 H375 2020 | DDC jC813/.6—dc23
Publisher Cataloging-in-Publication Data (U.S.)
Names: Nelson, Colleen, author. | Anderson, Tara, illustrator.
Title: Harvey Holds His Own / by Colleen Nelson, illustrations by Tara Anderson.
Description: Toronto, Ontario Canada : Pajama Press, 2020. | Summary: “A plucky West Highland Terrier named Harvey is determined to protect his yard from an intruding animal. Meanwhile, Harvey’s owner Maggie struggles to fit in at school, his friend Austin works to prevent his grandfather from losing his job at a retirement home, and new retirement home resident Josephine Fradette clings to her fierce individuality in the face of conformity. Finally, all characters both human and dog find resolution by standing up to adversity”— Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: ISBN 978-1-77278-114-4 (hardback)
Subjects: LCSH: West Highland white terrier -- Juvenile fiction. | Families -- Juvenile fiction. | Old age – Juvenile fiction. | Self-confidence – Juvenile fiction. | Individual differences – Juvenile fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Animals / Dogs. | JUVENILE FICTION / Social Themes / Adolescence.
Classification: LCC PZ7.N457Ha |DDC [F] – dc23
Original art created with graphite pencil on Canson drawing paper
Interior illustrations—Tara Anderson
Cover design—Rebecca Bender
Text design—Lorena Gonzalez Guillen
Cover image: Oscar, running fast © Christopher Walker
Manufactured by Marquis
Printed in Canada
Pajama Press Inc.
181 Carlaw Ave. Suite 251 Toronto, Ontario Canada, M4M 2S1
Distributed in Canada by UTP Distribution
5201 Dufferin Street Toronto, Ontario Canada, M3H 5T8
Distributed in the U.S. by Ingram Publisher Services
1 Ingram Blvd. La Vergne, TN 37086, USA
Dedication
For Ann Featherstone
–C.N.
For Buffy
–T.A.
Chapter 1
Harvey
Early-morning walks are Harvey’s favorite. Even better is after a rain when the concrete is cool and damp on his paws. Lampposts and fire hydrants explode with bright, fresh smells, ready for his inspection. He trots from tree to tree, leading Maggie. There’s a particularly pungent smell stretching along the curb. Harvey can almost taste it. He tugs, desperate to sniff out the source. “Harvey!” Maggie plants her feet, refusing to move until Harvey calms. Harvey obeys, but only until he feels some give in the leash. Then he is off again, his nose pressed firmly to the ground.
West Highland Terriers are known for their keen sense of smell and their determination. Harvey’s hard work is rewarded when his nose leads him to a bag of trash that has been ripped open. Mounds of soggy garbage have spilled out. As much as Harvey would like to stay and investigate every piece, cataloging the smells in his brain, Maggie’s voice is sharp with irritation. “Ew, Harvey! Gross! Raccoons did that.”
Maggie drags Harvey away, but not before he catches a whiff of the animal’s dank fur. The smell sends shivers up Harvey’s nose and his tail and ears perk up.
How he hates to leave! The scent could be tracked, its origin discovered. Harvey is a ratter, and his instincts tell him to do just that. He looks back once, longingly. Maggie bends down and scratches the spot between Harvey’s ears. “Come on, Harvs. I have school. We have to get home.” Instantly distracted, Harvey forgets the strange new odor and trots beside Maggie as they round the corner for home. But somewhere out there is an unfamiliar creature and its scent is now firmly etched in Harvey’s memory.
Chapter 2
Maggie
Maggie pulls on the itchy knee socks, part of her uniform for St. Ambrose Academy. She’d been excited about the uniform when she first started. She thought the girls who went to St. Ambrose looked so smart in their kilts, white blouses, and navy cardigans. After a month of wearing the uncomfortable clothing, her enthusiasm has waned.
Starting seventh grade at St. Ambrose has meant lots of big changes for Maggie. The school is farther from home, so she has to leave early in the morning. Her father drops her off on his way to work. She’s also learned how to take the city bus home, which has shown her a whole new side of the city. Luckily, her best friend
s, Brianne and Lexi, also got into St. Ambrose and the three of them are on the bus together. St. Ambrose is where her mother went, and from a young age, Maggie hoped she’d go there too.
There’s more homework, and no boys, which Maggie minds more than she thought she would. Not because she particularly liked any of the boys at her old school, but the energy in the room is different without them. It’s been a month of getting used to new things and Maggie is glad she has Harvey to come home to.
Nothing makes her happier than to put her key in the lock on her front door and hear Harvey skittering across the tile floor of the front entrance to greet her.
Of course, she’d learned last fall what it meant to lose Harvey. It hadn’t been her fault; she’d been on holiday with her family when Harvey had run off. Maggie still isn’t sure if it was fortunate or not that he’d been found by Austin, a boy who volunteered at Brayside Retirement Villa. Austin and his grandpa had taken good care of Harvey, but he’d done nothing to help Harvey find his real home and for that, Maggie can never forgive Austin.
If nothing else, losing Harvey proved to Maggie just how precious he is to her.
Chapter 3
Austin
As soon as I step onto the red rug on the sidewalk, the glass doors of Brayside Retirement Villa whoosh open. It’s after school and as usual I feel kind of scruffy compared to the fancy entrance. With its wood-paneled walls and huge brick fireplace, wingback chairs, and tables with curly legs, the furniture here is way nicer than anything in my apartment. Grandpa says Brayside has a reputation as the best seniors’ home in the city. There’s a long list of people who want to move in.
“Hi, Austin.” Mary Rose is at the nurse’s station beside the front desk. She hands me a newspaper folded so today’s crossword puzzle faces out. She doesn’t need to tell me it’s from Mr. Santos. “Clue 32 Down had him pacing the hall for half an hour.”
I read the clue: Take the L in this game. “Fortnite,” I say right away, naming the popular online game.
Mary Rose shakes her head and throws up her hands in disbelief. “How would he ever know that?” she mumbles to herself.
“Is Grandpa around?” I ask.
“He’s in the basement, I think.”
Grandpa is the head custodian for Brayside and has been for seventeen years. I don’t know what they’d do without him. He knows every inch of this place and all the residents. I come here almost every day after school to help out. It started last year as a way for him to keep an eye on me. At first, I didn’t like it. The old people talked so much and moved so slowly; I just wanted to do my chores and go home.
But then Mrs. O’Brien started baking me her blueberry muffins, the kind with crumble on top.
And Mr. Santos declared me a crossword-puzzle genius. And I met Mr. Pickering.
Just the thought of him makes my throat get tight. Mr. Pickering’s death, and all the things I learned from him about his life on the farm, his dog General, and his best friend, Bertie, haven’t left me. I still hear his voice sometimes when I’m dusting baseboards outside the suite that used to be his. Weird to think how close we got in only a few weeks. It was all because of Harvey, this West Highland Terrier I found. If Harvey hadn’t come along when he did, Mr. Pickering would never have talked to me. His whole life story would have stayed a mystery.
I miss Harvey almost as much as I miss Mr. Pickering. I know he’s with his owner, Maggie, but I still wonder how he’s doing and if he ever thinks about me, the kid who took him in for a few weeks last year.
Chapter 4
Maggie
Maggie looks at the form on the desk in front of her. Twenty volunteer hours have to be completed by winter break. She silently groans. On top of all her homework and piano lessons, how is she supposed to squeeze this in too? She can imagine her mom’s resigned sigh as she looks at the wall calendar. Almost every square is filled in with appointments and activities for Maggie or her little sisters.
“Does babysitting my brother count?” a girl asks Mrs. Weston.
The teacher shakes her head. “No. There’s a list on the back of places we’d prefer you go.”
Maggie turns the sheet over. Soup kitchens, food banks, hospitals, and churches. None of them sound interesting to her.
“What about the Humane Society?” another girl asks.
Maggie perks up. Working with animals would be fun. “Unfortunately, you have to be sixteen to volunteer at the Humane Society,” Mrs. Weston says. Maggie runs her finger down the list again. That’s when she notices a place third from the bottom. To most of the girls, it wouldn’t mean anything, but as soon as Maggie sees it, her skin prickles with recognition.
Brayside Retirement Villa.
Mrs. Weston goes through the attendance list, asking the girls where they might like to volunteer. “You don’t have to commit to anything yet, but we don’t want everyone choosing the same place,” Mrs. Weston explains.
Maggie jiggles her foot, thinking. Could she do it? Could she go back to Brayside?
“Maggie?” Mrs. Weston calls.
She hesitates for a moment and then says, “I don’t know yet.”
She’s worried being at Brayside will bring back too many memories of losing Harvey. Maggie adjusts her ponytail and looks around the classroom. Lexi has turned in her seat to whisper to Brianne. More girls make their selections. Maggie worries she’ll be stuck with a place she has no interest in. At least she knows Brayside and even though it’s filled with old people, it seemed like a nice place. Her foot jiggles under the table with indecision.
She told Austin she’d bring Harvey back to visit but she never has. Maybe seeing Brayside on the volunteer list is a sign.
“Mrs. Weston,” Maggie says, raising her hand. “I know where I want to volunteer.” Mrs. Weston waits, her pencil poised above the paper. “Brayside Retirement Villa.”
Chapter 5
Harvey
Most days, Harvey waits on a chair in front of the living room window for his Maggie to return. As soon as he catches sight of her walking up the driveway, he races from the living room to the front door. It’s all he can do not to yip with joy when he hears her key fitting into the lock. Ears pressed flat against his head, his tail wags at Maggie’s arrival.
“Hey, Harvey,” Maggie says, crouching down. She dumps her backpack on the floor, rubbing behind his ears and pulling him toward her. Harvey licks her cheek, jumping on his hind legs to get into every nook and crevice of her face. Sometimes, Maggie falls back laughing and he can tackle her with more kisses. Today, though, she stands up right away and goes into the kitchen. Harvey pauses to sniff her bag, taking in all the scents she has dragged home from school. Some are familiar, but others he needs to inspect more fully. Her shoes also hold answers to her earlier whereabouts. They taste delicious and even though he knows he’s not supposed to, he picks one up and sneaks to a spot behind a chair where he can gnaw on it.
From where Harvey is hiding with the shoe, he can hear Maggie’s voice. “You need to sign this,” Maggie says to her mother. “It’s about doing volunteer hours for school.”
Harvey hears the fridge open. Normally he would investigate, but he doesn’t want to abandon the tasty shoe, so he stays where he is.
“I’m going to go to Brayside.”
“Brayside?” Maggie’s mom repeats. “Where we found Harvey?”
Harvey raises his head at the sound of his name, expecting to hear it again as an order to give up the shoe.
“Yeah. I thought maybe I could bring Harvey back to see the old people.”
“Your teacher said bringing Harvey was okay?”
“She said I would have to ask Brayside. Some lady named”— Maggie tilts her head to see the name on the sheet—“Mary Rose Aguilar. I’m going to call now,” Maggie says. Harvey hears Maggie departing. He stands up with the shoe in his mouth. He hasn�
��t done any real damage to it yet, but he knows it will be ripped away if anyone sees it. He makes a dash through the family room and across the slippery floor of the kitchen, hot on Maggie’s heels. If he can get under her bed before she reaches her room, he’ll have a few more precious moments to chew on the shoe. Unfortunately for Harvey, but not for the shoe, he underestimated its size. It drags under his belly, slowing him down.
“Harvey!” Maggie says, and catches his collar. “Drop it!”
Reluctantly, he unclamps his teeth and the shoe drops to the carpet. He hangs his head. Caught, once again.
“Good boy,” Maggie says, and tosses the shoe back to the front door. “Ew.” Maggie wipes her hand on her skirt. “Doggy slobber.”
The shoe is quickly forgotten as Harvey follows Maggie into her room and jumps on her bed. Maggie sits at her desk with her cell phone in her hand.
Harvey doesn’t know who she is calling or why, but he does pick up on the change in her mood and the tone of her voice.
He sits with his head high, ears pricked with concern. She looks over her shoulder at him and gives a reassuring smile. Only then does Harvey settle on the bed, content to be with his Maggie.
Chapter 6
Austin
When I get to Brayside on Wednesday, Artie is waiting for the elevator. He’s got a pile of blankets in his arms. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“Mr. Stephens is moving up to the second floor.”
Mr. Stephens was in Mr. Pickering’s old room. “He wasn’t here for very long,” I say. It’s kind of sad to see someone move up to the second floor. It means they can’t live independently anymore.