Baxter (4 page)

“Baxter,” Lizzie whispered, trying not to wake anyone up. “Baxter, where are you?” She bent to look under her bed, and Maria’s. Then she ran into the main room and glanced around wildly. But in her heart, she knew he was gone. She knew that he had woken up and seen her empty bed and run outside after her, searching for the one person who made him feel really, really safe. Lizzie dashed back to the door, hoping to see Baxter right out front, wagging his tail and happily shaking his floppy, furry ears. But the clearing around the cabin was empty and quiet.

“Oh, Baxter.” Lizzie stepped inside, sat down at the table, and burst into tears. She felt
terrible. The poor little puppy was probably so frightened, all by himself, far away from anything familiar.

“Lizzie?” Mrs. Santiago came up behind her and put her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders. Simba stuck his nose into Lizzie’s hand as if to comfort her as well. “What is it, honey?”

“Baxter’s gone.” Lizzie sobbed out the words. “I went outside and I didn’t close the door all the way and — and —”

“John!” called Mrs. Santiago. “Maria! Wake up. We have a missing dog.” She squeezed Lizzie’s shoulders. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll find him. Simba will follow his trail.” She bent down to undo Simba’s harness. “I’ll stay right here in case Baxter comes back to the cabin.”

Moments later, Lizzie was outside watching Simba put his nose to the ground. He snuffled and snorted and took little running steps this way and that. He ran toward the outhouse, then
wheeled around and charged down the path toward the spot where the car was parked.

Mr. Santiago ran after him. Lizzie and Maria looked at each other. “Poor Baxter,” Lizzie said. She felt her heart sink. “He must have gone to check if the car was still there. He thinks we left him.”

Maria grabbed Lizzie’s hand. “Come on!”

Lizzie raced after Maria, but it was hard to run in her flip-flops. She kept tripping over roots and rocks. Finally, as she crossed the stream, her flipflop came off and she stopped to pull it out of the mud. She looked at the water trickling over pebbles, and that was when it hit her. Suddenly, she knew just where Baxter had gone.

She would have bet anything that they would not find Baxter at the parking spot. Once he’d seen that the car was still there, he’d probably wandered back toward the cabin. When he’d seen the water flowing in the stream, he’d
probably remembered the ripples in the lake and dashed on up the path so he could go pat his paws in the big water one more time. That puppy loved water.

Without a second thought, Lizzie put her flipflop on and began to run back in the opposite direction. She had to find Baxter.

She was sure she knew the way to the lake: Go past the cabin. (The door still hung open, so she knew that Baxter had not come back yet.) Turn right at the big boulder by the tall pines. Follow the trail through the open area filled with ferns. Pick up the larger trail by the rocks covered in soft green moss. And then . . .

Panting, Lizzie glanced wildly from left to right. Was she supposed to take the path that led down the hill or the one that went into the tall pine forest? But wait — hadn’t she already gone through a pine forest? All the trails had started to look alike, and Lizzie remembered now what
Mr. Santiago had said about how the logging roads looped around through the woods. Maybe she had started to go in circles.

Lizzie stopped for a moment and tried to think. That was what Dad always said to do when you were in trouble. “Take a few deep breaths and give yourself a chance to figure things out.” She looked up at the morning sun shining over her shoulder through the trees. When she had been in the outhouse the afternoon before, the sun had come from the opposite direction. The lake was on the same side of the cabin as the outhouse. “The sun rises in the east and sets in the west,” Lizzie said to herself out loud. “I haven’t gone far enough to go past the lake, so that means … that means I need to head west to get to there. So if the sun is behind me — I have to go
that
way. Yes!” Lizzie charged down the path.

Immediately, she knew she was headed in the right direction. She thought of what her mom
would say: “Lizzie, you have a good head on your shoulders — if you’ll just use it!”

Soon she knew she was close to the lake —
very
close. When she sniffed, she could even smell the water. And then Lizzie went around a corner and saw something ahead: a dark, hunched shape looming large on the side of the trail.

Lizzie gasped and screeched to a halt. Her heart beat crazily. “Bear,” she whispered to herself. “It’s a bear. What do I do? What do I do?”

The shape didn’t move. Lizzie inched forward.
“Is
it a bear?”

She took a few more quiet tiny steps. Closer, closer. Then she let out her breath in a big whoosh and shook her head. She giggled. That was no bear. That was just a big old stump.

Lizzie started to run again. The path opened into a wide clearing, just as she’d remembered, and there was the lake. The water was like a silvery mirror, reflecting the tall pines and rocks at
its shores. All was calm and quiet in the still morning air.

Then she saw Baxter. The little puppy had just climbed up onto a big flat boulder that jutted out over the water. His scrabbling paws sent a few pebbles splashing into the lake. Baxter stared down at the circle of ripples that moved outward from the splash. As Lizzie watched, he took a few steps closer to the water.

“No! Baxter!” Lizzie ran as fast as she could.

But she was too late. Before she could reach him, Baxter tumbled, furry little head over furry little heels, into the lake.

“Baxter!” Lizzie kicked off her flip-flops and kept running toward the lake. Poor Baxter. Lizzie pictured the frightened little puppy struggling to keep his head above the cold, dark water. She had to save him.

“Ouchie, ouchie, ouchie,” Lizzie squeaked as little pebbles bit into her feet. “Ouch!” she shouted when she stubbed her toe hard on a root. But finally, she made it to the water’s edge. Panting, she hauled herself up onto the same flat rock Baxter had climbed. She looked over the edge, scared of what she might see.

But there was Baxter, swimming along happily as if he had been doing it all his life. He had a perfect doggy-paddle style. His tail stuck straight
out behind him, helping to steer. He glanced up at her and shook his head. His flapping ears threw an arc of silvery, sparkling droplets into the air.

Come on in. The water’s great!

“Baxter!” Lizzie could have cried with relief. Baxter didn’t need saving. Baxter was fine. He really was a water dog. He didn’t need swimming lessons, and he didn’t need her help.

Baxter swam toward the rock where Lizzie still knelt. He looked up at her and shook his head again.

Aren’t you going to join me
?

“I’d love to jump in,” Lizzie said to him, “but that water looks awfully cold to me.”

Baxter swam away, then turned and swam once more toward the rock. He put one front paw
up onto the ledge and then the other, scrabbling with his puppy claws as he tried to haul himself out. The rock was too steep. Baxter tried in another spot, and another. He scrabbled more and more frantically.

Help! How do I get out of here
?

“Oh, my gosh. You can’t get out, can you?” Lizzie leapt to her feet and scooted herself off the rock and into the lake. She landed with a splash and a gasp. The water was only up to her waist, but it was so cold it took her breath away. “Whoa,” Lizzie yelled. “Brrr!” She reached for Baxter. “Come on, silly. Let’s get out of here.”

Lizzie grabbed the puppy’s collar and towed him over toward the sandy beach area she had seen the day before. “See? It’s easier over here,” she said as she guided Baxter toward shore. The puppy’s little white paws pumped away underwater until they got to a shallow spot. As soon as
he could stand on the lake’s bottom, Baxter stopped to shake his head again, spraying cold water all over Lizzie.

“Yikes!” Lizzie was freezing. But she couldn’t help laughing. Baxter was safe and sound, and that was all that mattered.

“Lizzie!” Mr. Santiago ran up to the shore of the lake, with Maria and Simba right behind him. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine,” Lizzie said. “And guess what? Baxter knows how to swim.”

“That’s wonderful,” said Mr. Santiago. “But I think we’d better get you both dried off and warmed up before you freeze.” Mr. Santiago picked up the dripping puppy and hurried Lizzie and Maria back toward the cabin. Inside, Mrs. Santiago helped Lizzie out of her wet clothes and wrapped her in a plush, warm towel while Mr. Santiago made a roaring fire. Maria dried Baxter off with another towel.

“What an adventure this little guy has had
today,” said Mr. Santiago after a while. They all sat in front of the crackling fire, drinking steaming hot chicken noodle soup out of mugs. “He did go down to the parking area first — I saw his tracks. He must have peeked into the car to see if someone was in there, because there were two muddy little paw prints on the door.”

“Awww.” Lizzie stroked Baxter’s curly coat. He had dried quickly, lying on her lap in front of the fire.

“Then, according to his tracks, he turned back and wandered toward the cabin again. But when he saw the stream the second time, something must have clicked in his head and he remembered how much he had loved playing near the water. Then he took off fast toward the lake.”

“That is
exactly
what I imagined him doing,” Lizzie said.

Mr. Santiago nodded, smiling. “You really know how to think like a dog,” he said. “Good job.
I only wish you’d waited until someone else was there before you jumped into the lake.”

“I knew it wasn’t deep enough to be dangerous for me,” said Lizzie. “But it was deep enough for Baxter to get into trouble. I had to save him.” She hugged Baxter close and kissed his nose. “I promise never to leave you alone again,” she whispered into his ear.

For the rest of that day, Lizzie did not let Baxter out of her sight for even a second. That wasn’t hard to do, since he never strayed more than a few feet away from her. And when they went to sleep that night, he snuggled right up to her on the bed. Lizzie loved his cozy warmth, but as she drifted off to sleep, she worried. How would she find a forever home for a dog who could never be alone?

“And so, then I thought to myself, ‘What would Dad say?’ and I stopped and took some deep breaths and tried to think things out.” Lizzie waved her fork at her father the next night at dinner. She was telling the story of Baxter’s big adventure — for about the fortieth time. Every time she told it, she remembered more details. “You should have seen how fast I ran back to the lake after that.”

“Right. Super-Lizzie,” said Charles. “Didn’t we already hear this part?” He rolled his eyes and served himself some more macaroni and cheese from the big dish in the middle of the table.

Lizzie stuck out her tongue at her brother. So what if he wasn’t impressed by the way she had
saved Baxter? Everybody else was. Like Elaina, for example. Lizzie had called her as soon as she’d gotten home from the cabin, to tell her the whole story. Elaina had been upset at first, but then she had laughed and cried and gasped in all the right places. “You did? Really? You jumped right into the freezing cold lake?” she’d said. “Tell me again about how Baxter swam.” Lizzie could tell that it broke Elaina’s heart to hear about Baxter — but at the same time, she wanted every detail.

At school the next day, everybody in class had loved the story, too. Lizzie had shared it at morning meeting. Afterward, she answered questions.

“You dove in off a big rock?” asked Daniel.

Lizzie nodded, even though it had been more of a jump than a dive.

“How far did you have to swim to get to shore?” Caroline asked.

“It wasn’t that far.” Lizzie shrugged. She didn’t
mention that she had actually been walking, not swimming, since the lake was not deep.

“Were you scared?” asked Aaron.

Lizzie shook her head. “No way,” she said. “I didn’t have
time
to be scared.”

At lunch, Maria was in line right behind Lizzie. As Lizzie reached for a tuna sandwich, Maria murmured into her ear, “You were
too
scared.”

Lizzie stood up straighter. “Was not —” she began. Then she remembered how she’d felt when she had thought she’d seen a bear — like the breath had been knocked out of her. She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “Okay, you’re right,” she said. “I was terrified. And my parents were right, too. I was homesick. But you know what? It all worked out in the end, and it was worth it to finally be at the cabin. When do I get to come again?”

After school, Lizzie was telling her mother the part about jumping into the lake all over again,
when Mom interrupted. “Lizzie,” she said, “sit down for a second and listen. There’s something we need to discuss.” She sounded serious.

“What is it?” Lizzie did not like the look on her mother’s face. She pulled Baxter onto her lap and sat on the couch. She stroked the curly white hair on his chest, and Baxter licked her cheek and wagged his tail.

I missed you today, even though I wasn’t all alone.

“I know how much you love Baxter,” Mom began, “and how much you want to foster him and find him the perfect forever home.”

Lizzie nodded. That was all true.

“But . . .,” Mom said, and Lizzie’s stomach took a dive.

“But I’m not sure we’ll be able to keep him much longer,” Mom finished.

“What do you mean?” Lizzie squeezed Baxter,
hugging him hard to her chest until Baxter squealed. She loosened her hold.

“Do you remember that Dad is going to a firefighters’ convention this Thursday?” Mom asked.

Lizzie nodded.

“Well, he’ll be away for three days. And on Friday I’ve promised to be the class mother when the Bean’s day care takes its field trip to Fable Farm. They’re going to pick out pumpkins and feed the goats and chickens, and the Bean is really excited about it.” Mom looked at Lizzie.

Lizzie got the picture. If Mom and Dad were both away from home, Baxter would be alone during the day. That couldn’t happen. But there was an easy answer. “So I’ll stay home from school,” Lizzie said.

Mom shook her head. “Nice try,” she said. “No way.”

“What about Aunt Amanda?” asked Lizzie. “Can’t she take Baxter?”

Mom shook her head again. “I’m afraid not. I already called her, and she says she is completely full for the next two weeks. If she takes any extra dogs, she could lose her license.”

“So where will he go?” Lizzie asked.

“I also called Ms. Dobbins, and she said she can take him at Caring Paws for the day,” Mom told her.

Now Lizzie shook her head. “No. That won’t work for Baxter. He’ll be all alone.” Lizzie knew that as far as animal shelters went, Caring Paws was the best. Ms. Dobbins made sure the place was always clean and warm. The animals were well fed and got plenty of attention. But being taken out for a walk twice a day was not nearly enough for a dog like Baxter, who needed to be near people all the time.

Lizzie buried her nose in Baxter’s fur and took a deep sniff, smelling his delicious puppy scent. She had never met a puppy with a softer coat.

Baxter snuffled in her ear.

I love being close to you!

Mom held up her hands. “I will try to find another parent to take my place on the field trip,” she said. “But, Lizzie, even if I can, it will only put this off for a day or two. We will have to take him to Caring Paws after that. Ms. Dobbins promised me that she will take great care of him, and find him a terrific home.”

“No,” said Lizzie.

Mom just shook her head. “I have other obligations, too. And so does your dad. We are just too busy a family to care for a puppy who always needs to be with people.”

“But, Mom . . .” Lizzie couldn’t stand it. “Baxter will get stuck at the shelter forever, like Fred.”

Fred was a grumpy dachshund who had a little biting problem. Ms. Dobbins had to be honest about the dogs at her shelter, and when people learned that Fred had nipped a toddler on the nose, they did not want to take him home. As
cute as he was, Fred had spent more than seven weeks at Caring Paws before a nice retired man had adopted him. How long would Baxter, a puppy who couldn’t be left alone, have to stay?

Lizzie begged, and Lizzie made promises, and Lizzie even cried a little. But Mom was firm. Baxter would have to go to Caring Paws. And the worst part was that Lizzie was going to have to tell Elaina.