He said something else too. He said, “You won’t need to be here much longer. Soon you can go home.”
I practiced walking with Dr. Burton. I walked back and forth in the big room with the cages. Then the woman with the long hair took me for walks outside. “You’re doing well, Buddy,” she said, and she patted me and kissed the top of my head.
One day Dr. Burton let me sit behind the reception desk in the front of his office. He told me I could be his greeter because I was friendly, and he let everyone who came into the office know that I was available for adoption. At the end of the day I slept in my cage again.
The day after that I was busy with my greeting duties when the door opened and in walked Henry and his father and his mother. Henry was holding a collar in one hand and a red leash in the other. And he was wearing a very big smile on his face.
Henry’s father talked to the man at the reception desk and then to the woman with the long hair and finally to Dr. Burton, who joined Henry and his parents and me in the waiting room. Now Dr. Burton was smiling too, almost as widely as Henry, and he turned to me and said, “You are one lucky dog, Buddy. You have a home.”
Henry was sitting next to me on the floor and he took my head in his hands and whispered, “You’re going to come home with us.”
When we walked out of Dr. Burton’s office I was wearing the collar Henry had brought. The red leash was fastened to the collar, and Henry was at the other end of the leash. He helped me into the backseat of a car and as the car rolled along I sat up very straight and tall. Once when Henry looked at me he said, “Hey! Buddy’s smiling!”
I gazed out the window, remembering rides in Franklin’s car. I saw snow on the ground. I saw birds. I saw boys and girls playing on a street that looked familiar. I recognized garbage cans I had tipped over and eaten from.
The car slowed down. It turned a corner. And Henry’s father said, “Here we are. Welcome to your new home, Buddy.”
EPILOGUE
I sat in the yard and squinted into the setting sun. The air was hot. Even as the sun dipped below the horizon, the air was hot.
“Buddy! Come here, Buddy!”
Henry ran by me, chased by Antony and Owen. They were barefoot, wearing shorts and T-shirts. Sweat ran down their faces and necks. I leaped to my feet and tore after them. Henry laughed and I ran faster. I ran until I was ahead of him. Then I turned, skidding, and ran in the other direction, nearly crashing into Antony.
“Buddy is faster than a cheetah,” exclaimed Owen.
I turned a second time, zipping back across the yard, and as I flew by Henry, he tapped my back and shouted, “Tag! You’re it!”
I stopped short, and Henry and Antony and Owen fell to the ground in a heap. Henry wrapped his arms around me.
The back door opened then and Henry’s father called, “Fifteen more minutes.”
Henry flopped back in the grass and announced, “Today is the longest day of the whole year.”
I rested my head on his chest. Owen stroked my snout. Antony patted my ears.
“Summer vacation,” said Owen.
“Swimming,” said Antony.
“New neighbors tomorrow,” said Henry.
We lay in the grass while the sky grew dark and the fireflies began to wink among the trees and the crickets chirruped and the bats came out.
From a distant yard a voice called, “Owen!”
“I have to go,” said Owen.
“Me too,” said Antony. “See you tomorrow, Henry.”
I followed Henry into the house and up to his room. On the stairs I passed Amelia Earhart and I touched my nose to hers. She lowered her head, inviting me to lick it, which I did. Later, when Henry was reading in bed, his mother came into his room and set a fan on the desk. “You’ll need this tonight,” she said. She kissed Henry and kissed me and kissed Amelia, who was now asleep on Henry’s feet.
Henry’s father peeked into the room. “Good night, Henry,” he said. “Good night, Amelia. Good night, Buddy.”
“Night,” said Henry.
I looked at Henry. He looked at me. Then he lifted the sheet so I could crawl underneath it. I lay pressed against Henry while the fan whirred and Amelia purred and Henry read his book.
I dreamed of Henry and home.
Ann M. Martin, Everything for a Dog
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