Tale of a Scaredy-Dog Page 2
Chapter 7:
¡PERDIDO! LOST DOG!
Perdido, adjective: Spanish for lost, but not forever
But Sophie was NOT home when we got home.
Everybody else was there, including Fireman Dave. It had stopped raining. Big Kitty was still stuck in the tree.
That meow wasn’t Big Kitty. It was Bert. Now you know what it sounds like when a monster cries. Just as awful as when they growl. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Big Kitty didn’t come down. Fireman Dave held out a treat.
I don’t know how something that smelled like rotten fish could be called a treat. Big Kitty thought it smelled . . .
She jumped into Fireman Dave’s arms. Big Kitty rode down like she was a hero.
Everybody crowded around Big Kitty and fed her stinky fish treats. How could they all be so happy? It was Bert’s cat who chased Sophie, and now Big Kitty was home and Sophie was still lost.
That wasn’t Big Kitty or Bert. That was me. My eyes glowed, and I stretched my monster paws toward Bert.
Bert ran home.
But that didn’t make me feel any better. It didn’t bring Sophie home. She was still . . .
My dad told me he knew how worried I was about Sophie.
Maybe. I picked up Einstein’s cookie and went in the house.
My parents tried to make me feel better. Here are all the don’t worries they told me.
Here I am, drawing a LOST DOG poster so everyone will know Sophie is lost.
Now you know why I call my little brother the Big Pest even though his real name is Pablo. He just grabs my stuff. He NEVER asks first.
No way. Nobody could be as sad as me. Then I looked at the Big Pest and changed my mind. I gave him a piece of paper and a black crayon. Here’s what he drew.
It didn’t look like Sophie. It didn’t even look like a dog.
The Big Pest looked like he was going to cry again, so I added two ears, two Sophie eyes, and her superpower nose to his scribble.
Then I showed him how to make a friendly tail. Now it looked like Sophie after she played in the mud.
I wrote Sophie’s name in cool letters at the top.
My mom wrote the rest. She has very neat handwriting.
We made four more posters. I drew a different Sophie on each one. The Big Pest helped. See the friendly tails? He drew those.
My mom made us wear our raincoats even though it wasn’t raining anymore. Here we are putting up a poster on the corner and . . .
at the grocery store and . . .
the library and . . .
the fire station.
But Sophie wasn’t home when we got home. We put the last poster on our front door.
Dinner was full of maybes.
But maybe a scaredy dog like Sophie would just run until she couldn’t run anymore and end up lost in the middle of NOWHERE! With NO WAY HOME!
The doorbell rang.
Sophie wasn’t at the door. It was Bert and his mom with cookies.
At least the cookies didn’t smell like onions. They smelled like peanut butter.
Chapter 8
NIGHTMARE ON WOODLAWN STREET
Dream, noun: thoughts, feelings, or pictures that go through your mind when you’re sleeping but seem as real as if you were wide awake
Here I am staring at the fake stars on my ceiling and trying to pretend that Sophie was curled up beside me.
Was Sophie cold? Wet? Was she hungry? Was she scared? What if Sophie was dognapped by a pack of wolves?
The Big Pest was even more worried than I was. I tried to make him feel better.
I told him Sophie was on her way home when . . .
Here I am, dreaming Sophie home.
Chapter 9
THE GREAT COOKIE TRAIL
Cookie, noun: a delicious treat for kids and sometimes dogs, too
Here I am running around the kitchen with the Big Pest! The phone was ringing! Someone found Sophie! Hooray!
The phone rang again.
Fireman Dave called and Mr. Pettigrew next door called. Neither of them had seen Sophie, but they promised to keep an eye out.
One person called to say how much they liked the poster and could they have one if we ever found Sophie.
It was a compliment that felt like
My mom tried to make me feel better.
They were Bert’s mom’s peanut butter cookies, the same kind that Sophie and I ate at Bert’s house yesterday. They were yummy. And they smelled like
I looked at the Big Pest.
And that’s when it hit me. I suddenly saw how to get Sophie home!
I almost kissed the Big Pest! But I had work to do. I grabbed the plate and ran outside.
The Big Pest followed me.
I raced to the corner and stopped. This was the last place that I saw Sophie.
I took a cookie and got down on the sidewalk.
I never should have let the Big Pest hold the plate.
Now instead of a trail leading straight home, there were bits of cookie scattered everywhere. I looked at the Big Pest.
I held the plate myself and started again.
It took a long time but here’s the Great Cookie Trail, running up the sidewalk from the corner, past Mrs. Ginwalla’s flowers, past the Pettigrews’, to HOME.
ALMOST. I was almost home when I ran out of cookies.
I looked at the Big Pest. You can’t see him because he’s covered in crumbs.
Then I remembered Einstein’s cookie just for Sophie. Thank you, Einstein! I ran into the house. When I came back out the Big Pest was gone.
Chapter 10
SOPHIE SAVES THE DAY!
Family, noun: Some animals, especially humans, live together through thick and thin even if their little brother is a Big Pest
Bert was there with Big Kitty. On MY driveway.
I looked at what was once a trail of crumbs. They were gone!
The crumbs were gone! Sophie must have sniffed out the trail and eaten her way home!
She was someplace nearby, I could just feel it.
Sophie didn’t come.
Sophie fetched.
ALMOST. Sophie caught the cookie. But she didn’t bring it back.
Instead she ran off just like a scaredy dog, chased by Big Kitty and Bert. And me. Big Kitty could run fast.
But Sophie ran faster, back and forth on the sidewalk between Bert’s house and our house.
She ran round and round . . .
up and down . . .
until . . .
she STOPPED.
Sophie turned, looked Big Kitty in the eye and politely said . . .
*That means If you wanted some of my cookie, all you had to do was ask. But Big Kitty was too tired to ask for anything. Besides she hated peanut butter.
Unlike Bert who grabbed the cookie and took a bite.
Bert ran home with Big Kitty. Sophie’s cookie was crumbled, but it didn’t matter.
Sophie came home.
Just kidding. Sophie is smart but she could never say that much, at least that I could understand.
Where she spent the night is her secret. Wherever she was, it was muddy. She looked just like the picture that the Big Pest drew.
Which reminded me . . .
*Which means Follow me.
Here’s the Big Pest stuck in the crab-apple tree. He got scared and ran there when Big Kitty and Bert showed up.
Here are Sophie and me helping him get down all by himself. And all of us woofing how happy we are.
Chapter 11
WOOF!
Illustrator, noun: an artist who tells stories with pictures
Here I am, painting Sophie’s dog family on the fence. Notice anything different about them?
That
’s right! They’re not scary! They’re all smiling with love!
And it’s really true! Because guess what? The families of Sophie’s dog family all saw the posters and called to say that they hoped we found Weasel.
*That means YES, we did!!!
We had a painting party in the backyard and everybody came. Even Fireman Dave without his big noisy truck. Einstein brought a whole plate of giant peanut butter cookies—without the fish oil.
Bert and Big Kitty came, too.
Bert wanted me to add Big Kitty but I said no way. Dogs only! He can paint Big Kitty himself on his side of the fence.
There is no way I’m going back to Bert’s house. Not even to jump on his trampoline, which would be fun if it wasn’t Bert’s.
And thanks to Einstein, I know for a fact that bees are really smart so I’m just going to act like Bert gave me a compliment—one that smells like honey, not onions.
See? I’m giving Bert one of Einstein’s 100 percent peanut butter cookies.
We’re all artists. The Big Pest painted all the friendly tails. Einstein painted 220 million olfactory receptors.
Just kidding! But Einstein did paint Crunch’s and Slobber’s noses.
Sophie painted a part with her tail. It was by accident, but I think it looks good. And now her friendly tail is as blue as the sky.
It took a while but Sophie and I finished her Dictionary of Dog that we started at the beginning of this book. Einstein helped. Turn the page. You can read the whole thing from A to Z.
SOPHIE’S ILLUSTRATED DICTIONARY OF DOG
Arf, exclamation: No dogs say Arf. That’s something that cats made up to make dogs sound silly. Cats are tricky critters, you can ask any dog. See Cat.
Author, noun: Someone who writes a book, article, or anything important. Sophie is the very first dog author.
Bark, noun or verb: Sophie made me put this joke in here.
She wants everyone to know that most dogs have a sense of humor. Some dogs think it’s funny to bark at two o’clock in the morning just for fun. Most humans probably don’t see what’s funny about that but maybe if they tried barking for no reason they’d understand.
Best Friend, noun: You’ve probably heard the saying that a dog is man’s best friend. That’s dog, not cat, not gerbil, not salamander. What I’ve learned is that a girl can have more than one best friend like Yvonne and Einstein and Sophie and even a little brother like the Big Pest. But not Bert. NO WAY!
Biscuit, noun: a cookie for dogs often shaped like a bone and used as a treat. This is a word that every human needs to know and should use often. Some dogs will do anything, including fetching, rolling over, playing dead, and worst of all, begging, just to hear the word biscuit, and maybe get one as a reward. Einstein says that in England people call cookies biscuits, but I’m still going to call a cookie a cookie.
Bite, verb or noun: You guess. Which of these bites is dog and which is human?
Bone, noun: Artists always draw bones like this with two straight lines and knobs on the ends. But bones don’t really look like that. Biscuits do.
Bravery, noun: In Sophie’s opinion, there’s no shame in being sensitive. In fact, it makes sense to run away from anything that really is scary or sounds scary like vacuum cleaners or big trucks.
Cat, noun: a furry four-legged creature who thinks it’s better than everyone else, including humans. Sophie says most humans think the same thing about themselves.
Chase, verb: to tear after someone or something very quickly so you can catch them.If you are a monster you eat them after you catch them. If you are a smart dog like Sophie, you chase sticks and balls and butterflies just for fun and you never eat them.
Chew, verb: to bite, munch, chomp, crunch, gnaw, or nibble. Sophie once tried to chew a tire on the car but couldn’t get her jaws around it, which is a good thing because it’s hard to go anywhere in a three-wheeled car. Here are some of Sophie’s favorite things to chew:
Cookie, noun: No one has to tell you what this is! Cookies are sweet to eat and can’t be beat! All dogs love cookies, and kids do, too. They are way better than biscuits. Peanut butter cookies are Sophie’s favorite. Who took a bite out of her cookie?
Dog, noun: If you’re reading this book you already know what a dog is. There are hundreds of different kinds of dogs, but most dogs are all mixed up like Sophie. Here’s Sophie dressed up as a Dalmatian at the fire station.
Dream, noun: thoughts, feelings, or pictures that go through your mind when you’re sleeping but seem as real as if you were wide awake. Most dogs dream about chasing things.
Einstein, noun: Judith Einstein is the smartest girl in the universe and my more than almost best friend. She is the trusted source for this dictionary, which means she really knows about dogs, not because she has a dog but because she’s read all the books there are to read about dogs. Everything she says is . . .
That means it’s 100% CORRECT.
Family, noun: Some animals, especially humans, live together even if their little brother is a Big Pest.
Garbage disposal, noun: a machine usually found in the kitchen which gets rid of stuff no one can eat. Dogs can be excellent and efficient garbage disposals. If your dinner includes spinach, just place your dog right under the table. Dogs will clean up that spinach in no time, though it’s best if you give them some of your meat loaf to help wash it down.
Growl, verb: to make a dark low sound in order to terrify others, even and especially when the critter growling is terrified itself. While it’s true that some dogs growl, Sophie does not, and says that growling is more typical of wild animals, warthogs, and monsters like Bert.
Home, noun: the place where your heart is.
Illustrator, noun: An artist who tells stories with pictures. I, Bea Garcia, am the official illustrator of this dictionary and of this book.
Lair, noun: a wild animal’s resting place. Smart animals like dogs prefer to sleep in soft beds with pillows.
Paws, noun: Paws are like running shoes. But paw prints aren’t one of a kind like fingerprints. Nose prints are! Isn’t that weird? Guess who told me that? See Einstein.
Perdido, adjective: Spanish for lost.
Pet, noun: a tame animal kept by humans for companionship and pleasure. Dogs almost always make the best pets unless you are a monster, in which case a cat like Big Kitty is perfect.
Smell, verb: Dogs can smell a million times more than humans. There are some smells, though, like rotten fish, that I, as a human, would rather NOT smell.
Tail, noun: the very end of most animals. Dogs use their tails to show enthusiasm, fear, or friendliness, sometimes all at the same time.
Tree, noun: a woody plant that grows from the earth to the sky. Trees are excellent places for cats to get stuck in and for best friends to dream in.
*Woof: That’s Sophie saying, Thanks for reading my dictionary!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Deborah Zemke has written and illustrated many books for young readers, including the wildly successful Doodles place mat series. Her work has also appeared in several magazines. She is also the designer of the ITC Zemke Hand font. She lives in Missouri.
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