Snowball (4 page)

Charles knew that it was really up to his parents whether or not he got to keep Snowball. But he figured it couldn't hurt to put in a word with Santa as well. He had one last letter to write before Christmas vacation started. Why not make it a letter to Santa?

Charles had not quite finished his letter when the last bell rang, so he carefully put it into his writing folder. Then he jumped up and grabbed his jacket and backpack. Hooray! It was time to go home and see Snowball.

Hooray! The puppy was happy when he saw Charles come home. This had been the MOST BORING DAY EVER! But he liked this boy. Now that the boy was home, he would get to play!

Mom was really busy. She came downstairs to say hello to Charles, but then she had to get right back to work in her upstairs office. “Remember,”
she told Charles, “I'm working on an article. Dad and Lizzie and the Bean are off doing some Christmas shopping. So you're in charge of Snowball this afternoon.”

Snowball looked up when he heard his name and cocked his head to one side. Charles bent down to give him a hug. He looked so cute when he did that.

“I know,” Charles said.

“That means you have to make sure he gets some exercise,” she said. “Maybe you could play in the backyard. He needs to burn off some of that energy.”

Charles nodded. “Okay,” he said.

“And keep an eye on him all the time,” Mom reminded him. “I know he doesn't
mean
to get into trouble, but it seems as if every time I turned my back this week he was into something. He chewed on one of the Bean's favorite dolls. He dragged a pillow off the couch and all over the house. And he pulled half a roll of toilet paper into the kitchen.”

Charles hid his face in Snowball's fur so Mom couldn't see his smile. He thought Snowball was pretty creative when it came to misbehaving.

“You know,” said Mom, “I'm afraid that if we don't find a home for Snowball soon we may have to give him to the animal shelter. It might be easier to let
them
find him a home. He's a bit more than a family with three young children can handle. He really needs a home where he will have constant attention.”

Charles stopped smiling. That sounded serious.

Snowball squirmed out of Charles's arms, then turned and gave him a quick lick on the nose before he charged off toward the living room.

“Better stick with him.” Mom sighed. “In fact, go check that the door to the den is closed. I brought all the Christmas decorations and wrapping paper down from the attic and it's all in there. I don't want him getting into it.”

“Don't worry, Mom,” Charles said as he headed off after Snowball. “I won't let him out of my sight.”

That afternoon, Charles and Sammy played with Snowball, Goldie, and Rufus for a long time in the backyard. More snow had fallen, so the dogs did not get muddy this time. In fact, there was enough snow to make snowballs and throw them for the dogs to fetch. All three dogs loved that game, but they were sometimes confused when the “ball” they were chasing seemed to disappear into a pile of snow.

When a snowball flew into a snowbank, Snowball would chase after it and then burrow deeper and deeper into the snow, trying to find it. The snow would fly between his little paws and his whole head would disappear into the hole he had dug.

When Sammy and his dogs went home, Charles and Snowball went inside to dry off and have another snack. Then Charles sat down at the kitchen table to make his Christmas list while Snowball curled up in a ball on the rag rug near the backdoor.

That was a lot of people! Charles knew what he wanted to get his dad: a keychain shaped like a fish, since his dad liked fishing. And he had some pretty good ideas about dog toys. But what about everybody else? Presents were expensive. Charles wondered how much money he had saved up.

He glanced over at Snowball. The puppy was fast asleep. One of his legs was twitching a little, and Charles wondered if he was dreaming about running after Goldie. Charles didn't want to wake Snowball up, so he
tiptoed out of the room and ran upstairs to get his Red Sox bank. He wanted to empty it out and count his money. It turned out there was a lot! He'd forgotten about the ten-dollar bill Gramma had given him for his birthday. That plus a whole bunch of quarters and other change turned out to equal almost twenty-three dollars!

Charles sat on his bed, looking at the piles of change. Maybe he could afford
two
dog toys for Snowball.

Snowball!

Suddenly, Charles realized that he had left the puppy alone. He shoved all the money back into his bank and ran downstairs, hoping he would find Snowball still curled up on the rug.

No such luck.

Charles dashed from room to room, looking for the puppy.

Snowball wasn't in the living room.

He wasn't in the dining room.

Then Charles heard a noise from the den. He smacked his head. “Oh, no,” he groaned. He'd forgotten to check to make sure the door was closed. And guess what? It wasn't. Not all the way. With his heart thumping, Charles pushed the door open.

The puppy looked up at the boy. Why did he seem so upset? Snowball had never had so much fun in his life. He liked this room. There were so
many fun things to dig into, chew, and tear up. What could be more fun?

Snowball looked like a Christmas tree that had gone through a blender. He had tinsel hanging off his ears, ribbons draped over his back, and a branch of plastic holly was stuck to his stubby little tail — which was wagging madly as he looked up at Charles.

“Oh, Snowball,” Charles said. He couldn't help laughing at how cute the puppy looked. But then he got serious. The den was a mess! And it wasn't really Snowball's fault. He was only a puppy, and he didn't know any better. Charles knew he never should have left Snowball alone.

He scooped the little dog into his arms. “You're in trouble now,” he said.
“I'm
in trouble now.” How was he ever going to clean all of this up before dinnertime? Charles sighed and got to work.

Later that night, after dinner, Charles was looking at Lizzie's
Dogs on Duty
book. It was cool to read about all the things dogs could be trained to do: tracking lost people, doing police work, rescuing avalanche victims, and, of course, guiding blind people. There were even companion dogs who were trained to help disabled people with things like opening doors or picking up dropped keys.

“You could learn how to do those things,” Charles told Snowball. He snuggled his nose down into Snowball's fur. “You could be a companion dog.”

Then Charles thought about Mrs. Peabody. She was not disabled, but she certainly needed a friend. Wasn't that what a companion really was? A friend?

And Snowball needed a friend, too. He needed a friend who could give him lots of attention and take him for long walks and train him to do tricks
and maybe even teach him to be a therapy dog. Charles knew his family was not a perfect fit for Snowball. They were too busy to watch him all the time. But maybe Snowball and Mrs. Peabody
were
a perfect fit.

The next day at school, Charles tore up the letter to Santa and started all over again with a new letter.

Charles finished his letter just in time. “Okay, everybody,” Mr. Mason said, just as Charles was signing his name. “Time to clean up and get ready for our trip to The Meadows.”

Charles folded up the letter and put it in his pocket. It was done, but he wasn't ready to send it yet. He wasn't completely ready to give up on the idea of keeping Snowball. And anyway, how could he be sure that Mrs. Peabody would really want to adopt a puppy?

Charles had such a fun time with Mrs. Peabody that day that he forgot all about the letter. They talked about all the things Snowball was learning to do. Charles told Mrs. Peabody about giving
Snowball a bath, which made her laugh so much that her face turned bright red. He also told her about watching the therapy dog test, and they both agreed that Snowball would make a great therapy dog someday.

The only thing they didn't talk about was Charles's letter. He decided to keep that a secret — for now.

Charles knew Mrs. Peabody liked dogs. He knew she liked Westies. But it was important to know whether or not she would really want to have Snowball for keeps. And there was only one way to find out for sure.

“Today's the day!” Charles whispered into the phone. It was Saturday morning.

“I'll be right over,” Sammy whispered back.

The boys had been planning for days, and now it was time to put their plan into action. Snowball needed a walk. Mrs. Peabody needed a friend. And Charles wanted to make sure that Mrs. Peabody and Snowball would get along. So . . . why not walk Snowball over to The Meadows for a surprise visit?

It seemed like a good plan — as long as nobody found out, that is. And nobody would. Charles and Sammy had checked out the location of Mrs. Peabody's apartment, and they were pretty sure they could sneak Snowball in without a problem.

Just then, Mom walked into the kitchen with the Bean trailing behind her. He was wearing his favorite sweater, the red one with a black Lab knitted into the front. Snowball, still very white and fluffy, followed the Bean, snuffling up the crumbs from the Bean's graham cracker. The puppy had already learned that the Bean often dropped at least part of whatever he was eating.

“Who were you talking to?” Mom asked as she opened the fridge.

“Nobody,” Charles said quickly. “I mean, just Sammy.”

“And what are you two up to today?” she asked as she poured the Bean a cup of juice.

Charles looked down at his cereal bowl. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “I mean, we're just going to hang out.” He wasn't ready to tell Mom the truth about his plan.

The Meadows was a short walk from school but a longer walk from home. Or at least, it
seemed
longer to Charles and Sammy. Snowball was not used to walking on a leash. He pulled and tugged, checking out every single smell along the way. And he sniffed each one for a really long time, bracing his legs when Charles tugged a little on his leash. Charles tried to be patient, but finally he'd had enough.

“Come on, buddy,” he pleaded when they had stopped for the twentieth time. He bent down and picked up the little dog, tucking him inside his jacket. Snowball struggled a little at first, then relaxed in the warmth of Charles's arms.

“Okay,” Charles said as they neared the row of evergreens that grew between The Meadows and the road. “Anybody around?”

Sammy snuck a peek around a tree. “There's a guy shoveling his patio,” he reported. “But he's looking the other way. Nobody else in sight!”

Charles took a deep breath. He and Sammy looked at each other. “Let's go for it!” said Charles. Holding tight to Snowball, he dashed across the snow-covered lawn to the sliding-glass doors of Mrs. Peabody's apartment.

“I sure hope she's here!” he said as he tapped on the glass.

The door slid open.

“Why, Charles!” said Mrs. Peabody, looking surprised. “How nice to see you!”

“This is Sammy,” Charles said. Then he unzipped his jacket a little. “And this,” he said, “is Snowball.”

“Oh, my gracious!” said Mrs. Peabody, putting her hand over her mouth. “Oh, the little darling!” She leaned out the door and looked both ways. “Come in,” she whispered. “A short visit won't hurt.”

Once they were inside, Charles unzipped his jacket and let Snowball out. The little pup ran
right over to Mrs. Peabody, who had knelt down with her arms open. She scooped him up and gave him a big hug.

“Oh, aren't you sweet,” she said, nuzzling her nose into his fluffy, white fur. Snowball licked her nose. Then he licked her ears and her cheek for good measure.

The puppy knew this lady liked him. He could tell. He liked her, too. She knew just how to hold him so he didn't feel all squirmy, like he had to get down right away. He wondered if she had any good treats. He licked her nose again.

“He likes you,” Charles said, laughing. “I can tell by the way he's licking your nose.”

“My Snowball used to do that, too,” Mrs. Peabody said. She looked happy and sad at the same time. She put Snowball on the floor and he took off, roaming around the apartment to check everything
out. When he was done, he came back, sat down in front of Mrs. Peabody, and let out a few little barks.

“Shhh!” said Mrs. Peabody, putting her finger over her lips. “You're not supposed to be here, remember?”

Charles could tell that Mrs. Peabody knew exactly how to deal with Snowball's personality.

Snowball cocked his head and looked at her as if he understood.

But it was too late. A few moments later, there was a knock on the front door. “Hello-o!” called a woman, pushing the door open before Mrs. Peabody could stop her. “Did I hear a
dog
in here?” She spotted Snowball. “Oh, look!” she cried. “Isn't he adorable?”

Mrs. Peabody shrugged at the boys, smiling. “This is my next-door neighbor, Ms. Tucker,” she said. “And this is Charles, and Sammy, and Snowball.”

Charles held his breath. Was Ms. Tucker going to tell on them?

“Snowball,” cried Ms. Tucker. “Come here, darling.” She laughed as Snowball came trotting over with his stubby little tail stuck straight up in the air. Then she started talking baby talk to him. “Who's the little ittle boy?” she asked as she patted his head. “Who's the sweetest ittle puppy?”

Charles and Sammy looked at each other. The baby talk was silly, but they could put up with it — as long as Ms. Tucker didn't turn them in for sneaking a dog into The Meadows.

Mrs. Peabody and Ms. Tucker sat down on the couch with Snowball between them and started talking about dogs they remembered. Snowball just sat there, soaking up all the attention.

“Hello?” A man stuck his head through the door, which Ms. Tucker had left partway open. “I could have sworn I heard barking —” He stopped when he saw Snowball. “Hey there,” he said, smiling.
“Now that's a fine pup.” He came over to get a closer look. Then he called out the door, “Hey, Evelyn, come see what's in here!”

Before long, there were six residents of The Meadows surrounding Snowball.

“Look at him,” Charles whispered to Sammy. “He's like a celebrity! And he loves it.”

It was true. The puppy seemed totally happy being handed around from person to person, licking every nose he could reach. Charles remembered the therapy dog test and thought how easily Snowball could pass it. He knew just how to make everyone happy.

Mrs. Peabody looked over at the boys. Her cheeks were pink and she was smiling broadly.

Just then, there was another knock at the door. “Mrs. Peabody?” asked a woman in a white uniform, stepping into the room. “Sorry to bother you, but it's time for —”

“Hide him!” whispered Ms. Tucker, shoving Snowball toward the woman named Evelyn.