Fenway and Hattie (4 page)

Hattie and Angel stay up in the squirrel
house for a Long, Long Time. I curl up in the cool grass while Goldie and Patches wander away, muttering to each other.

I wait and wait. Until finally, the leafy leaves whoosh, the branches sway, and two pairs of feet are scaling down the giant tree.

Yippee! I leap as high as I can, pawing furiously at the bottom rung. “That's my short human!” I bark. “I knew you'd come back.”

Hattie reaches the ladder-y step just above my head, then jumps. “Wheeeee!” she shouts, landing in the grass with a giggle.

Angel looks like she wants to jump, too, but changes
her mind. She continues climbing down as I'm springing up.

My brown paw swipes Angel's calf, and somehow she loses her footing. “Oh no!” she wails.

I back away as she falls, landing—
splat!
—on the ground.

Hattie rushes to Angel's side, her face full of concern.

“Owwwww!” Angel cries. She rubs her bum, scowling at me. She gets to her feet and dusts off her clothes. “All-rite,” she says to Hattie.

Hattie looks relieved. Next thing I know, the short humans are heading for the back porch.

I bound after them. “Hey, wait for me!”

Angel punches her palm a couple of times. “Ball?” she asks. Her long, wavy hair hangs out the back of her cap like a squirrel's tail.

Hattie shakes her head. “Jump-rope?” she says.

Angel scrunches up her face. “Nah,” she says. She pauses for a moment, her gaze wandering. Then her shoulders sink and she disappears through the door.

Hattie sighs. She smells disappointed.

“Don't feel bad, Hattie,” I bark, dancing around her feet. “We're in the Dog Park. It's time to play!” I shoot out into the grass.

But instead of chasing me, Hattie trudges right on by.

“Try to catch me!” I bark, zooming along ahead of her. Straight to the giant tree.

Hattie grabs onto a high rung and starts climbing.

I watch until her feet disappear, my tail drooping. I sink back down. My Hattie does not belong in a tree. My Hattie belongs down here in the grass, chasing me. Or scooping me into her arms and showering me with kisses. Laughing, having the time of her life. Protesting when Fetch Man makes us leave the Dog Park to go home. That's My Hattie.

But this Hattie is up in that giant tree again. Does she really want to hang out with those nasty squirrels? With no loyal dog to keep her safe? And protect her from grave danger? What if something bad happens to her?

Hey, wait a minute—that's it! I run in circles. I know how to get My Hattie back!

After all, I'm a professional. I'll save her from dangerous squirrels! And Evil Humans! Why didn't I think of it sooner? It's the Best Idea Ever!

She'll remember how important I am, and she'll change back to how she was before. She'll be My Hattie again. Like she's supposed to be. I spin and spin, every hair on my body itching to get to work. I'll be on guard for the right opportunity. It's only a matter of time.

The next day, I follow Hattie around the house. When danger strikes, I'll be ready.

Hattie fishes the long jump rope out of her backpack. She zooms into the Bathtub Room, where Food Lady is hanging a wide curtain. Hattie holds out the jump rope. “Please?” she begs.

Food Lady sighs and shakes her head.

Hattie's shoulders slump.

We hop down the stairs. Fetch Man is in the Lounging Place banging on the wall. When Hattie calls out to him, he turns around.

She shows him the jump rope. “Please?” she begs.

Fetch Man sighs, too. He puts a hand on Hattie's shoulder. He speaks to her in a gentle, hopeful voice. I catch one word.

“Angel?”

Hattie grimaces. She smells discouraged.

I know how she feels. So far nothing around here looks or smells the least bit dangerous. I'm starting to think my plan to save her isn't going to work when that terrifying sound comes from the front door again.

Ding-dong!

I spring into action. “Warning! Warning!” I bark,
bravely rushing to the source of the danger. “Nobody go near that door.”

Fetch Man heads right toward it like he doesn't even hear me.

“Watch out!” I bark. “It's probably a grave threat to our safety—”

Aha! A grave threat! This is my big chance to save Hattie.

I hurry over to her. “Bad news! We're all in jeopardy! Stay where you are. I'll protect you.”

I race back to Fetch Man, growling and snarling. Totally ignoring me, he opens the door like nothing is wrong. “Stand back!” I bark. “I can handle this. I'm a professional.”

And sure enough, standing in front of us is an Evil Human wearing a hard hat on his head and dirty boots on his feet. He's carrying a bag that's heavy and bulging. One whiff reveals German Shepherd and telephone poles and a hint of ham sandwich. With mustard.

And that's not all. He's whistling—a sure sign of trouble!

Fetch Man greets the Evil Human with a cheery voice, like he's happy to see him. He invites him right in, completely unfazed by my growls. “Be forewarned!”
I bark at the intruder. “Don't take one step toward that short human over by the couch!”

The Evil Human breezes right by, as if he's not even the least bit intimidated. He strolls into the Lounging Place, straight toward Hattie. Fetch Man and I follow. He's gritting his teeth. I'm baring mine. I'm ready to nip at some heels if it comes to that.

At the Flashing Screen wall, the Evil Human stops. He stares at it for a second, even though it's black and not flashing. He squats down and opens his bag. He takes out snaky wires and . . . scary tools!

I knew there'd be trouble! “Stop right there, buddy!” I bark, flinging myself at his leg. “There'll be none of those loud noises while I'm around.”

Fetch Man crosses his arms. “Hattie,” he snaps as she rushes over, right into the path of danger. Hey, Fetch Man is sabotaging my plan!

Or is he? “Get out of the way, Hattie! I've got this,” I bark, thrusting out my chest. “This is no place for a short human.”

Just then, a hand reaches down and rubs my head. “Fella,” says a strange but friendly voice.

The Evil Human! What is he trying to do? Throw me off my game?

“Fenn-waay! Fenn-waay!” Hattie says, backing away and clapping. She clearly wants to play.

“Not now, Hattie,” I bark. “Can't you see how busy I am?”

She claps louder. “FEN-way,” Hattie says. This time, she sounds annoyed.

What's going on? This is not part of the plan. “Hattie, I'm trying to protect you from this Evil Human who has invaded our home,” I bark, and—whoa!

The menace revs up the roaring tool!

I lunge toward his arm, stopping a safe distance from the earsplitting sound. “Put that thing down before somebody gets hurt!”

Hattie's hands close around my torso. “FEN-way!” she cries.

“Cut it out, Hattie,” I bark as she lifts me up and away from the Evil Human. “I'm supposed to be the one saving you!”

And that's not the only problem. Hattie smells different. Frustrated. She mutters something to Fetch Man over her shoulder. She carries me out of the Lounging Place. Why isn't she happy that her loyal dog is trying to protect her?

She keeps on walking to the sliding door. When she opens it, I finally realize what's going on. We're going outside to the Dog Park!

She sets me down on the porch and gazes into my eyes. She points her finger at me. “Fenway,” she says,
her voice serious. There is something important she wants me to know. Probably that she's completely devoted to me and nothing will ever come between us.

And it hits me—my plan worked! We're going to play, same as always. Hooray! Hooray! My Hattie's back!

But then, a terrible thing happens. She opens the door and goes back inside. Without me.

Later, Food Lady's in the Eating Place
with the promising sounds of running water, noisy pots, and scraping spoons. Delicious smells are drifting through the house. It's all I can do to slurp the drool from my muzzle.

Hattie and Fetch Man charge in and gather around the table. I'm parked in the safe hallway, looking through the door. And I see a wonderful sight—Food Lady's pouring tasty food into my dish! As it's rattling in, I jump up and run in circles. Yippee! It's supper time.

Food Lady sets my dish on the Wicked Floor. She takes her seat next to Hattie and Fetch Man. My tummy is rumbling. I smack my chops. I can hardly wait!

Hattie glances at Food Lady, then back at me. “Fenn-waay,” she calls in a hopeful voice.

I know the routine by now. I cock my head and put on my most pathetic face. I whimper and moan, “Please, oh please, Hattie. I'm sooooo hungry . . .”

Hattie turns to Food Lady. She wants to bring me that dish.

“No,” Food Lady says.

Fetch Man shakes his head. “Train-ing,” he says.

What's wrong? Hattie's supposed to get up and serve me my food out here in the hallway.

I whine some more. “Hattie, Hattie, oh please, Hattie. Please, please, pleeeeeaaaaase . . .”

She's gazing at Fetch Man, then Food Lady, then back to Fetch Man. She looks desperate. She wants to help me. What's going on?

I cry and whimper and whine again and again and again. I even roll onto my back and moan, “Oh why, oh why isn't anybody feeding me? There's only so much suffering one dog can take.”

It's hard work. I keep whining and moaning while my humans finish eating and put everything away. Hattie acts like it hurts to look at me. The feeling is mutual.

Just when I'm ready to give up, Hattie walks out of the Eating Place and over to the front closet. I spring up to see what's going on. She's holding her backpack and something even better—my leash. Good thing I showed up!

Fetch Man grabs jingling keys. Food Lady reaches for her purse. This can only mean one thing—we're going for a ride in the car! Whoopee!

Fetch Man and Food Lady are chattering up front. Me and Hattie are cuddled in the back. She speaks to me in a quiet voice, like she's telling me a secret. She pets me over and over.

My nose detects a fabulous scent in her backpack. There's no doubt about it! That thing is loaded with treats! Hattie's obviously planning to give them to me. I can't stop licking her face. This is the way it's supposed to be! My Hattie is back.

When the car stops, I barrel out the door, ready for all the fun we are about to have with those treats. And when I search around the parking lot, there's more excitement right in front of my eyes. And my nose! Lots of dogs and humans. And they're heading into a giant building.

An indoor Dog Park? Hooray! Hooray! I pull Hattie through the doors. I can't get in fast enough.

But inside, it's disturbingly quiet. And worse, the dogs are all on leashes. “What is this place?” I say as we approach a Yellow Lab.

After we politely sniff each other's bums, he tells me his name is Lance. He's with a tall human who smells like hamburger. “Dunno, dude,” he says. “But then, I rarely do.”

“Well, it's going to be wonderful,” I say.

He gazes at me blankly. “Huh?”

I nuzzle Hattie's leg. “This is my short human. Her backpack is full of treats!”

He perks up. “Treats? Awesome!”

Food Lady and Fetch Man are speaking with some other humans. One of them is tugging the leash of a Basset Hound who looks like he wants to run away. Does he know something I don't? We introduce ourselves. His name is Rocky.

This place sure is curious. It must be explored! Nose to the floor, I lead Hattie from corner to corner, intoxicated by the amazing aromas. Every single inch of space smells like dogs. All kinds of dogs. I detect whiffs of Schnauzers and Boxers and Poodles and every other breed I can imagine. Even more than I've ever smelled before. Has every kind of dog in the world been here? Talk about a promising sign! This place is probably the best indoor Dog Park ever. Or maybe Dog Heaven.

As I continue to sniff, I discover something even more incredible—treats! And not just the delicious kind in Hattie's backpack. Wowee! It's a smorgasbord of dog treats—cheesy, livery, beefy—the smells are totally overwhelming. I pivot and jump on Hattie's legs. “This is going to be mind-blowing!” I bark. “I can hardly wait till the fun starts!”

She looks around uneasily and shifts her backpack to her other shoulder. She smells nervous. Why isn't she more excited? And more important, why isn't she handing over the treats?

Suddenly, I notice that One Human is striding toward us very purposefully. Like maybe she wants some treats, too. Well, she's going to have a fight on her hands.

Or maybe not. The One Human's energy is friendly, yet her posture is telling me to stay on guard. A bad combination.

She starts talking, and Hattie's treating her like she's Very Important. She says that mysterious word “train-ing,” too.

Hattie grips the leash tighter, like she wants to keep her loyal dog close. There's something puzzling about this One Human. Besides the fact that she smells like the same wonderful combination of dogs and treats as everything else in this place.

All of a sudden, she turns and begins talking to everyone, like she's in charge. And the humans all fall for it. They go quiet, staring at her with rapt attention. The dogs, not so much.

Rocky digs his hind claws into the floor like he's being dragged into the vet's office.

The roundest Beagle I've ever seen turns to me with noticeable effort. “Did I hear something about treats?”

I bounce on my paws. “You bet!” I say. “Tons of them! I smelled them with my own nose.”

“Good. I'm starving,” she says. “But there better not be any work involved. I don't do work.”

I gaze at her, bewildered. She tells me her name is Sadie.

The One Human keeps on talking, the humans keep on listening, and the dogs have no idea what's going on. Do the humans expect us to just hang out and wait patiently? It's the very definition of impossible.

All the dogs start barking at once. “I want to go home,” Rocky howls.

Lance jumps on his human's legs, nearly knocking him over. “Where are the treats?” he barks.

“I hope I won't be expected to run around or hop over anything,” says Sadie, sprawling out and yawning. “That's not how I roll.”

“Hold on, you guys,” I say. “I have a good feeling about this.”

Rocky stops howling and eyes me with suspicion. “Who died and made you Alpha Dog?”

I sink down. “Nobody. I mean, let's give it a chance.”

“A chance?” Sadie says, nodding at the anxious-smelling humans standing next to her. “Honey, it's obvious you haven't been around very long.”

The One Human says a magical word we all know.

“Treats.”

Every single ear perks up!

I spring up, my tail going nuts. “See?” I tell the others.

“It's about time,” Sadie says, struggling to push herself onto all fours.

“Huh?” says Lance.

Sure enough, the humans produce treats. But for some reason everybody's focused on the One Human instead of the dogs.

The dogs begin jumping and sniffing at the closed fists. Given the totally unfair height advantage, the humans win. For now.

I turn to Hattie, who's clutching a handful of tasty little nuggets. Her face is glowing with excitement. “Ready?” she asks.

“I'm so ready! I'm so ready!” I bark, darting back and forth.

She leans over and holds out her fist. “Fenway, sit.”

I leap up as high as I can, my nose going crazy.
Mmmmm!
Those treats are in there all right! The meaty fragrance is undeniable. I nip and nip, but Hattie's hand remains closed.

Why aren't those treats dropping into my mouth? Hattie's excited face is unchanged. She speaks again. “Ready, Fenway? Sit. Sit. Sit!”

“I'm so ready! I'm so ready!” I jump and jump, my
tail going berserk. Come on! Why aren't the treats coming?

Hattie's cheeks droop. So do her eyes.

Is this some kind of game? It isn't very fun. For either of us. Hattie seems almost as upset as I am.

Fetch Man puts his hand on Hattie's back. Food Lady nods at her reassuringly.

I'm about to ask why she's the one they're reassuring when our heads turn toward a commotion on the other side of the room. Lance is jumping and pawing his human. “Yo, buddy! Where are the treats?” he barks.

The One Human heads over to them. Lance's human steps aside, as if he expects the One Human to rescue him. He's grimacing like he's in pain. Or perhaps he's afraid of what's next. Lance turns to the rest of us. “What're you lookin' at?”

The One Human stands over Lance, stares straight into his eyes, and something changes. His face becomes completely focused. He gapes at the One Human like she's a ham bone. “Sit,” she says.

He plunks onto his bum. And voilà! A treat falls into his open mouth. It's beyond impressive.

But it's not over. “Stay,” the One Human says, holding out her arm. She steps back. Lance waits, completely still, eyes glued on her as if in a trance. Another treat sails over and—nice grab! This happens a few more times.

We're all thinking the same thing—it can't be that easy. But nobody has the guts to do anything about it. Or do they? I turn to Sadie, then to Rocky. “Just watch, you guys,” I say. “I totally have this.”

I swivel back to Hattie. “Yo, buddy! Where's my treat?” I bark. I jump up and paw her legs.

She jerks away. “FEN-way!”

I can feel rather than see the attention. “Come on. Where is it?” I bark again, charging at her.

Right on cue, the One Human comes over. One sniff reveals that she has treats, too. She hovers over me, her body tall and dominant.

“Sit,” she commands.

Talk about intimidating! My hind legs crumple. I sink onto my bum.

She looks into my eyes. “Stay,” she says, extending her arm.

I freeze in place. I want to hop up and grab those treats. But her strong gaze and powerful energy are warning me not to.

The One Human takes a step.

I'm still as a statue—work it, work it, work it—and bingo!
Chomp!
The treat's in my mouth, and wowee, is it ever yummy.

Really, this game is too easy. Apparently, the One Human's not very smart.

When it's dark outside, we're back at home. I'm curled up in Hattie's cozy bed. She's smelling minty. And subdued.

She quickly kisses my front paws, then begins brushing my fur. I sigh happily with each luxurious stroke. I snuggle against My Hattie's chest, ready to melt into a pool of delight.

But something's different. Instead of singing “best buddies, best buddies,” she's talking. In that same quiet, serious voice she used before. She's telling me to pay attention to something important. But what?