Louie Read online

  The black-and-white pup nuzzled Charles’s ear until Charles giggled. Then he thumped his big tail on the ground again.

  Whatever you say. I trust you now.

  “I guess we’ll just have to hope that he’ll stay with us until we find a leash and collar for him,” said Dad.

  “I think he’ll want to stick around once he finds out that we’re having hot dogs,” Charles said. He stood up, only to find out that his foot was asleep from sitting cross-legged for so long with a big dog head on his lap. He stood on one foot and circled the other until he felt the pins and needles that meant it was coming back to life. “Come on, Louie. Let’s go get you a treat.”

  The puppy seemed to know that word. He looked up eagerly and nuzzled Charles’s pocket, wagging his tail.

  Treats? I’m totally into treats.

  Charles laughed. “I don’t have any yet. But we’ll find you something as soon as we can.” He petted the puppy’s big long ears. “Good boy,” he said as they began to walk back toward the lake.

  They walked quietly for a while. Then Charles spoke up. “Dad? How could anybody abandon such a great dog?”

  Dad shook his head. “They probably thought they had a good reason. But there’s never a good reason to leave a dog like that. If they couldn’t keep him, they should have brought him to Caring Paws.”

  Charles nodded. “And then Ms. Dobbins probably would have called us to foster him, anyway,” he said with a grin. Ms. Dobbins was the director of the local animal shelter. Charles’s older sister, Lizzie, volunteered there every Saturday, and Charles often helped out, too. For his next birthday, he was planning to ask everyone to donate food and supplies to Caring Paws.

  “You’re probably right about that,” Dad admitted. “But still, it has to be a family decision to take on a foster pup of this size. Let’s see what your mom thinks.”

  Charles wanted to run on ahead and find Mom and ask her — beg her! — to let him foster Louie. He was already crazy about this big dude with the big black spots and the huge, feathery tail.

  “Maybe you should run on ahead and —”

  Charles looked at his dad. How did he do that? It was like he was reading Charles’s mind.

  “— tell the other kids to take it easy when the puppy gets there,” Dad finished.

  “Oh, right,” said Charles. “Good idea.” He saw that they were about to come out at the bottom of the trail, by the lake. “Can you hold Louie?”

  Dad knelt down and put his arms around the big pup. “Ha, ha, cut it out!” he said when the puppy licked his face.

  “See? He likes you, too,” said Charles.

  “Go on,” said Dad, smiling.

  Charles ran down the path toward the cluster of people near one of the picnic tables on the lakeshore. As he got closer, he saw that Mom was there with Lizzie and the Bean, and Liam’s parents, and Sammy’s dad. The twins’ father had arrived, too. The adults were setting food out on the picnic table while the boys kicked a soccer ball around. “Hey, everybody,” Charles called. “Hey, we got the puppy to come back out. He’s on his way here.” He paused, panting. “But he’s kind of shy, so everybody has to be calm. Okay?”

  The twins’ dad laughed. “I hear he’s kind of a wimp,” he said.

  Charles stopped in his tracks and frowned. He didn’t like that. “No, he isn’t,” he said. “Louie’s just not used to lots of people jumping on him.”

  Mom put her hands on his shoulders. “We understand, Charles. We’ll be careful not to scare him. Right, boys?”

  “Right,” chorused Sammy, Liam, and Hunter.

  But Tyler put his hands on his hips. “Louie?” he said. “How did you find out his name?”

  “I just guessed it,” said Charles. “He just seems like a Louie.”

  “I bet I can think of a better name,” said Tyler.

  Charles shrugged. “Here he comes,” he said, pointing to the edge of the woods. Dad and the big black-and-white pup were just emerging from the trail.

  “A Landseer!” said Lizzie as soon as she spotted the big puppy. “Cool.”

  “A what?” asked Charles. It was amazing how Lizzie always knew the breed of a puppy or dog the second she saw it.

  “It’s a type of Newfoundland,” Lizzie said. “Instead of being solid black, like most of that breed, Landseers are spotted black and white.” She smiled. “It’s so perfect that we’re at the lake. Newfoundlands are water dogs. They used to rescue fishermen out of the freezing seas off Newfoundland, way up in northern Canada.”

  “Uppy!” yelled the Bean. Charles grabbed his little brother by the sleeve before he could charge toward the big puppy.

  Hunter and Tyler’s mom was holding the twins back, too. “Come on, Mom,” said Hunter, struggling to get away. “I want to see the puppy.”

  “You can see him,” said his mom. “You just can’t jump all over him.”

  Dad and Louie approached the picnic table. Louie’s tail was down, and Charles could see the whites of his eyes as the puppy peered anxiously at the crowd of people. “It’s okay,” Dad kept telling him. “Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

  Louie hung back, but Dad managed to coax him along until they joined the group. “Okay, easy now, everyone,” Dad said. “If you want to say hello to Louie, get down on his level and be very gentle and quiet.”

  “I brought a leash and collar,” said Lizzie, holding them up. “Maybe I should put them on him, to make sure he doesn’t run off?”

  “Good idea,” said Dad.

  Lizzie knelt down and spoke softly to Louie as she buckled the collar around his big neck. Then she clipped on the leash. “Good boy,” she said. Louie thumped his tail.

  “He’s so big!” said Liam’s mom as the other kids knelt to pet Louie. “This wasn’t what I imagined when I reported a dog in a crate.”

  “You were the runner?” Mom asked Mrs. Poole. “The one who posted the alert about an abandoned dog?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t have a leash or a collar or a car. I ran home and put that posting online, then came back here as soon as I could.”

  “Did you see any vehicles leaving the parking lot?” Mom asked. She pulled a small pad out of her pocket — her reporter’s notebook. Charles smiled. His mom knew a good story when she heard one.

  Mrs. Poole shook her head. “Not one,” she said. “And there was no note on the crate or anything. Poor puppy.”

  “He’ll be fine now,” said Lizzie. “Our family will foster him and find him a great home.”

  Dad cleared his throat. “I’m not so sure about that,” he said. “This is a big dog with big needs. Like, a bath for one thing. And some training. We’d want to try to figure out who left him, and find him a great new home — which won’t be easy, because of his size. He might just be more than our family is ready for right now.”

  “I can relate to that,” said Hunter and Tyler’s mom. “After our last experience with a dog, I said ‘no more dogs, ever.’”

  “What happened?” asked Mom. She gestured toward the table. “Why don’t we start eating while you tell us? That potato salad is calling my name.”

  Charles felt his stomach grumble and remembered how hungry he was. Food! What a great idea. He and the other boys gave the puppy a few more pats, then got up to fill their plates along with the adults. Charles made sure to put an extra hot dog on his plate, for Louie.

  “So, what happened with your last dog?” Mom asked again as they all sat down to eat.

  Mrs. Pagano looked at Mr. Pagano. “I guess we just didn’t make the best choice,” she said carefully. “Sadie was a big German shepherd–Lab mix.”

  “Which seemed perfect,” said her husband. “A pal for the kids, and a protector for our property.”

  “But?” asked Mom.

  “But she was just a little too wild,” said the twins’ mom. “She barked nonstop every time someone came to the door, jumped on people, and chased the neighborhood cats.”

 
; “And she bit the mailman,” said Hunter.

  “Right,” said his mom. “She bit the mailman. That was kind of the last straw. I have enough on my hands, with these two.” She smiled over at the twins. “I can’t handle an aggressive dog on top of everything else.”

  “We took her to a shelter in the town where we used to live. They promised to work with her and find her another home,” said Mr. Pagano.

  “That must have been a tough decision,” said Mrs. Poole, Liam’s mom.

  “At least you didn’t abandon her in a parking lot,” said Mom, shaking her head as she gazed down at Louie, who was gobbling a piece of hot dog Charles had just given him. “That is just — just —”

  “The worst,” said Lizzie. “If I ever find out who did that —”

  “We should find out,” said Hunter, around a mouthful of pasta with pesto. “We can be detectives and follow clues and stuff. Then we can tell those people that what they did was really bad.”

  Charles looked at him, surprised. “That’s a good idea,” he said.

  “And we could also help get the puppy cleaned up and help train him,” said Tyler. “So your family doesn’t have to do all the work.”

  “It can be our next Cub Scout project,” said Liam. “It would be great practice for working toward our Animal Care Activity badges.”

  Charles grinned. “That’s a great idea!” he said. He turned to his mom and dad. “If it’s a den project and we all help a lot, will you say yes to fostering Louie?”

  Mom looked at Dad and raised her eyebrows. Dad nodded.

  “Yay!” yelled Charles, Lizzie, and the Bean.

  “Hey, cut it out!” yelled Charles. “That water is really cold.”

  “Oops, sorry,” said Hunter. “I was aiming for the puppy.”

  It was Sunday, the day after the picnic at Loon Lake. Charles had brought Louie over to Tyler and Hunter’s house. Sammy came over, too. Now they were giving Louie a bath in the backyard.

  At the picnic, the scouts had decided to split into two teams. Hunter and Sammy would get Louie cleaned up, work on his training and socialization, and start trying to find him a new home. Tyler and Liam would try to figure out who had abandoned Louie, and why. Charles was on both teams, since Louie was living at his house.

  Louie had settled in well at the Petersons’. He had been shy when he and Buddy first met, but after a few minutes they were best buds. He and Buddy had both slept on Charles’s bed, which had not left a whole lot of room for Charles.

  Lizzie had done some research on Landseers and had shown Charles a picture of one swimming in the cold Atlantic Ocean. “See?” she said. “These dogs are no wimps.”

  Meanwhile, Mom had already started writing an article about the puppy who had been abandoned at Loon Lake Park. “My editor said that if I finish it today he can get it in tomorrow’s paper,” she’d told Charles as she dropped him off at Hunter’s. “He thought that a lot of people would be interested in Louie’s story.”

  Now in the Paganos’ backyard, Charles looked at Louie. The big shaggy pup was drenched in water, and Hunter and Sammy were rubbing soap into his fur. He didn’t even try to run away, like some dogs did when you gave them a bath. Louie just stood there patiently, head and tail hanging down, waiting for it to be over.

  Charles thought Hunter’s mom had been right: Louie didn’t seem to mind the cold water from the hose. “I guess if he’s made for swimming in the northern Atlantic Ocean, a little cold water won’t bother him,” she’d said. She had agreed to the bath only if the boys did it in the backyard. “Remember, no more dogs for me, ever,” she’d said. “Especially big shaggy dogs like this one. Who needs the mess?” But she’d smiled at Louie and petted him when she brought out the bathing supplies: some baby shampoo, a pile of old towels, and a plastic pitcher.

  “Good boy, Louie,” said Charles as he helped scrub. The puppy’s coat had been tangled and even a little smelly, but soon he’d be all clean.

  “I still don’t know why you got to name him,” said Hunter. “Shouldn’t we all get a say, if he’s our den project?”

  “Yeah,” said Sammy as he combed his fingers through Louie’s tail.

  Charles shrugged. “He’ll always be Louie to me, but if you guys have any better ideas, let’s hear them.”

  “Um,” said Sammy.

  “Spot,” said Hunter.

  Charles raised his eyebrows. Sammy laughed.

  “Really? Is that the best you can do?” Charles asked.

  “Because of his spots? What’s wrong with that?” Hunter asked. “Okay, how about … Tiny? That would be kind of funny.”

  “Wait, wait! I know,” said Sammy, who’d been thinking so hard that his eyebrows were knit together. “Parker, because we found him at the park!”

  Charles and Hunter both shook their heads. Sammy’s face fell. “Yeah, I guess it’s not so great,” he said.

  The boys were quiet for a while as they scrubbed. “I think that’s enough soap,” Charles said finally. “Let’s rinse him off.”

  Sammy picked up the hose and held it over the big puppy as Charles and Hunter slid their hands through his fur, pushing the suds along as the cold water poured through the dog’s coat. “Brrr!” said Charles. “Why are there still so many bubbles?” The soap was not going away — in fact, it seemed like the water was just making more lather. Louie was almost pure white now: the soapy bubbles covered all his black spots except for the ones on his face. The big puppy’s patience seemed to be coming to an end. He raised his head and began to pull away from the boys.

  Can this be over now? I’m not really having fun.

  “Stand back!” Charles yelled. “I think he’s about to shake.”

  Sure enough, Louie gave a mighty shake, and blobs of white lather flew all over the boys, the lawn, and the outdoor furniture.

  “I guess I used a little too much baby shampoo,” said Hunter, looking down at the half-empty bottle. “What do we do now?”

  “We keep rinsing,” Charles said. He dug into his pocket for one of the biscuits he had brought and coaxed the big pup back to his spot. “Come on, Louie,” he said. “We’ll be done soon.” Charles’s hands were almost numb from the cold water, but they had to finish what they’d started.

  But Louie had other ideas. He charged toward the house, trailing clumps of suds.

  I’m freezing! Let me in!

  “No, Louie!” yelled Hunter as the wet pup pushed against the back door.

  Charles ran to grab Louie’s collar, but slipped in a pile of suds and fell to the grass.

  “Louie, wait!” yelled Sammy. He dashed toward the soapy dog and pulled him away from the door.

  Louie seemed to give in. With his head and tail hanging down, he let Sammy lead him back to the hose.

  Charles smiled as the boys got back to work on rinsing the soapy dog. “Did you guys hear yourselves?” he asked. “I think it’s decided. His name is Louie.”

  “Come in!” Mrs. Poole said when Charles and Tyler and Louie arrived at Liam’s house the next day. “I’ve got snacks for everyone, including you, big guy.” She knelt to give Louie a hug. “I got special permission for you to visit us,” she told the big puppy. “I’m not supposed to have pets here, but I talked to my landlord and he made an exception, just for today.”

  Other people’s houses are … different, Charles thought as he walked through the Pooles’ living room. They looked different, with different furniture and different pictures on the walls. They smelled different — not better or worse necessarily, just different. They felt different, too. Liam’s house was small but super cozy, and the kitchen smelled like cinnamon toast, which turned out to be what Liam’s mom had just made for a snack. Charles felt comfortable there right away, and so did Louie.

  Louie wagged his big flag of a tail and gave Liam’s mom a big sloppy kiss.

  I feel so welcome here!

  Liam’s mom giggled. “He doesn’t seem so shy anymore,” she said.

  “We’v
e been working on it,” said Charles. “Lizzie even taught him a trick.” He snapped his fingers to get Louie’s attention. The big puppy sat up to look at Charles. “Louie, introduce yourself,” Charles said.

  Louie picked up one big paw and held it out in a “shake” gesture, for Liam’s mom to grab. She laughed as they shook. “Nice to meet you, Louie,” she said.

  They all sat in the kitchen, the boys at high stools along the counter and Louie on the black-and-white linoleum floor. The boys munched on their cinnamon toast while Louie crunched a giant puppy biscuit.

  “Your mother’s article about Louie came out great,” Liam’s mom said to Charles. “She’s a good reporter.”

  Charles nodded. “And the photographer took such a funny picture of Louie,” he said. “I love the way his head is tilted.”

  “Have any tips been phoned in?” Liam asked. “You know, like if there were witnesses?”

  Charles’s mom had put a paragraph at the end of her article asking people to call the newspaper if they had seen anything suspicious near Loon Lake that day. “Yes!” said Charles. “This one lady called to say she saw a white van going really fast up the road that day, and another person saw it, too. They both said it had a license plate from this state. They said they’d seen it around the area for a week or so before that day.”

  “Hmm,” said Liam’s mom. “Anything else?”

  Charles shook his head. “That’s about it, so far.”

  Tyler sighed. “So what can we do to find out more about where Louie came from?”

  “Let’s make a list,” suggested Liam. He pulled out a pad and pencil. “Um,” he said as he tapped the pencil on the pad.

  “Usually, if we find a lost dog, we notify the police,” said Charles. “And the local animal shelters, and vets.”

  “Vets! That’s a great idea,” said Liam’s mom as Liam scribbled on the pad. “If the people were local, maybe they’ve taken Louie to a local vet. He’s a pretty memorable puppy.” She looked down at Louie. “Aren’t you, big guy?” she asked.

  Louie thumped his tail on the kitchen floor and looked hopefully at her hands.