Oh No, Newf!

  That didn’t make Avery feel any better, though. I knew he missed Stitch something awful. That’s why, whenever he’s a huge jerk at school, I try not to get mad. I try to think about how I would feel if someone took away the dog I loved so much. That’s why what I said to him that first week of school was so mean and I felt so bad about it.

  I put the photo back down on the bedside table. Yeti had his head and shoulders all the way under the bed and was scrabbling around like he’d found buried treasure.

  “I know it won’t be like having Stitch back,” I said. “But I hope you’ll help me take care of Yeti. We can take him to the park together, like we used to. And you can come over anytime you want to hang out with him. He thinks you’re pretty cool.”

  “I am pretty cool,” Avery said.

  I laughed. “Well, sure.”

  He gave me a sideways look. “I bet you just got this dog as an excuse to hang out with me more. I’m onto you, Tyler.”

  “Yeah, you got me,” I said, grinning.

  “Stay here for a second,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed. “I gotta get something.”

  He left the room and I leaned over to check on Yeti. He was scratching at something that was pinned between the bed and the wall. I climbed over and dug my hand down into the gap. I felt something soft and furry under my fingers.

  I pulled it out and gasped. I recognized it right away. A small black-and-white stuffed dog with floppy ears.

  “Arfer!”

  Yeti jumped onto the bed and tried to take Arfer in his mouth. I held the stuffed animal out of his reach and looked at it more closely. It was definitely the dog I’d given Avery, like, seven years ago. I couldn’t believe he still had it. It couldn’t have been stuck back there this whole time. His mom changed the sheets every week; she would definitely have found it. So … did that mean Avery had kept it on purpose … and still slept with it?

  I heard his footsteps coming back. He would not be happy if I teased him about this. Quickly I stuffed Arfer back behind the bed. Yeti whined and pawed at the wall, but I distracted him by throwing a blanket over his head. When Avery came in, Yeti was rolling and snuffling under the covers.

  “Oh, thanks,” Avery said. “I made that bed this morning, you know.”

  “Really?” I said. “I couldn’t tell.”

  “Here.” He tossed me an old, squeaky dog toy shaped like a floppy green frog. It had been Stitch’s favorite toy.

  Yeti surged out of the blankets and pounced on it immediately. He seized it between his teeth and shook it like a piñata that he was hoping would explode into candy pieces.

  “He loves it!” I said. “Are you sure he can have it? You don’t mind?”

  Avery shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine. Whatever.”

  “He might destroy it,” I warned. “He’s more destructive than he realizes.”

  “Well, you know all about that,” Avery said.

  I rubbed Yeti’s soft head. “Right, so I know he wants to be a good dog. Right, Yeti?” Yeti dropped the frog for a minute to slurp his big pink tongue up the side of my face. “But I’ll take him to classes and we’ll practice tricks and he’ll learn all the things I’ve seen dogs do on TV and then he’ll be just perfect, I know it.”

  Avery actually laughed. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said.

  “OK,” I said. “Maybe not perfect. But that’s all right. He doesn’t have to be perfect all the time.” Yeti’s tail wagged, and he gave me a look like, Well, that’s lucky, because I don’t see that happening! “Clearly that’s not a requirement for my friends,” I teased Avery.

  “Ha-ha,” Avery said.

  Yeti poked his shaggy head under my arm and I gave him a hug. “Don’t worry, Yeti. We can be not-perfect together. That’s what being best friends is all about.”

  At last it was my turn. I was pretty nervous because Jeopardy was quietly freaking out. She couldn’t take her eyes off the hurdle. I heard her go “ooorf! rroorrf!” in this tiny whimper kind of way while she watched the other dogs. Her white front paws went up and down, up and down on the rubber floor beside me, like she was practicing dance steps in her head or getting ready to start a race. By the time Alicia called us, Jeopardy was up on her back paws and straining at the end of her leash. As I stepped forward, she went: “ARF! ARF!” like she was shouting: “FINALLY! FINALLY!”

  I stopped in front of the hurdle. Jeopardy’s whole furry body was quivering with excitement. I leaned down to unclip her leash.

  “OK, Jeopardy — ” I started, but before I could say “over!” — actually, before I even finished her name — Jeopardy was gone. She leaped over that first hurdle and kept going. Zip! She went over the second hurdle. Swish! She flew over the third hurdle. “ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF!” she barked as she jumped, and then she kept barking at the top of her lungs as she bolted around the room.

  “ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF!” She galloped in a huge circle around all of us, barking frantically.

  “Jeopardy!” I yelled. “Get over here!”

  “ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF!” she answered, flying like the wind from one wall to another. She looked both blissful and smugly triumphant, like she’d managed to fool me and escape and now she was having the time of her life.

  I wanted to sink into the floor. Rosie put her hands on her hips like she’d never seen anything so disorderly in her life. She looked even more disapproving than Alicia.

  “Jeopardy, come!” Alicia said firmly.

  “ARF ARF ARF!” Jeopardy barked, darting forward and then dashing out of reach again as Alicia reached for her. Eric and Rebekah had their hands over their ears. Heidi and Ella were laughing hysterically.

  “Jeopardy!” I shouted. “Stop! Stay!” I ran at her, but she ducked away from me, too. I threw myself forward to grab her collar and missed. My chin hit the bouncy floor with a painful thwack.

  “Oh my gosh!” Heidi cried, clapping her hands to her mouth. “Noah, are you OK?”

  “Yeah,” I said, although my jaw hurt like crazy. Jeopardy stopped and stared at me from a few feet away.

  “Aw, see, she feels bad,” Heidi said, clasping her hands together.

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Her face was more like, Why did you stop playing? What’s wrong with you? Why are you so lame?

  “Come here!” I said.

  “ARF!” Jeopardy answered and ran off with her tail wagging.

  “Here,” Parker said, handing Merlin’s leash to Danny. “Let’s corner her.” He chased Jeopardy around the shiny blue tunnel. She raced toward the wall and we both ran at her from either side. Even so, she nearly slipped through our hands again, but I threw my arms over her back and tackled her to the floor.

  Immediately she relaxed. As I lay on top of her, gasping for air, she craned her head back and licked my ear. “Ruff,” she said calmly, like: So that was fun. Now what?

  “Thanks,” I said to Parker. He took the leash out of my hand and snapped it onto Jeopardy’s collar.

  “No problem,” he said. He shook his brown hair out of his eyes and patted Jeopardy’s head. “That’s totally happened to me with Merlin.”

  I glanced over at the perfect golden retriever as I got to my feet. Merlin was sitting next to Danny with his head tilted curiously, as if he was wondering whether it would be safe to join our game or if Jeopardy was too insane.

  “Really?” I said. It was hard to imagine having to chase Merlin down.

  Parker rolled his eyes. “You have no idea,” he said.

  I dragged Jeopardy back to our spot. Alicia was waiting with her eyebrows raised.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Don’t be,” she said. “I think it’s a good sign that she’s excited about the equipment. She’s a very smart little dog. But we might have to leave her leash on for a while, at least at first, so we don’t have to chase her every time.”

  “Aww,” Danny said. “But it’s so funny to watch!” He imitated Jeopardy’s face as she ran away from u
s.

  Everyone laughed. Ella leaned over to whisper something to Heidi. I was sure they were talking about what a terrible dog owner I was. It didn’t help me at all that Jeopardy was a “very smart little dog”; as far as I could tell, that just made me look even dumber next to her. I’d much prefer an ordinary-smart dog like Merlin or Yeti.

  My face felt like it was burning up. Nobody else had to leave their dog’s leash on. Nobody else had a crazy dog like mine. Nobody else’s dog took up all the class time by acting like a lunatic.

  Why was my dog always the worst behaved?

  In addition to the New York Times- and USA Today-bestselling Wings of Fire series, Tui T. Sutherland is the author of several books for young readers, including the Menagerie trilogy, the Pet Trouble series, and three books in the bestselling Seekers series (as part of the Erin Hunter team). In 2009, she was a two-day champion on Jeopardy! She lives in Massachusetts with her wonderful husband, two adorable sons, and one very patient dog. To learn more about Tui’s books, visit her online at www.tuibooks.com.

  Copyright © 2010 by Tui T. Sutherland

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.

  SCHOLASTIC, APPLE PAPERBACKS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First printing, February 2010

  Cover photo by Michael Frost

  Cover design by Yaffa Jaskoll

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-30036-0

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.