Bad to the Bone Boxer

  Mom and Dad came down when they smelled the pancakes, and over breakfast we talked very sensibly about how to keep shoes away from Tombo and rearrange things so he wouldn’t be tempted again. They listened to our ideas and asked us what we thought of theirs. I like it when we have conversations like that, because Mom and Dad talk to us as if we’re grown-ups just like them.

  “All right,” Mom said at the end, “so we have a plan to protect the shoes. We can make this work.”

  We all nodded and there was a small pause.

  “But why did it have to be my shoe?” Dad said plaintively.

  “I guess you have the tastiest feet,” Deandre joked, and that made us all laugh. Tombo looked up from his kibble with a scrunched-up, befuddled expression like, What? What’s so funny?

  “So, Michelle, what’s going on with your classroom’s big project?” Dad asked. He was talking about Ms. Applebaum’s “Make a Difference” project. At the beginning of the year, we all had to come up with an idea that would help the community or make the world a better place. I’d remembered something my Kenyan grandma told me about charities that give a goat or a cow to a family in Africa. Apparently just one animal like that could change their lives so much that the kids could afford to go to school and have a totally better life, which sounded amazing to me.

  So my suggestion was that we raise enough money to buy a goat for an African family, and everybody loved it, especially Ms. Applebaum. We had a bake sale that raised nearly a hundred dollars, and we were planning to spend the next Saturday raking leaves for people who would pay us for it, so we’d have that money too. But the goat part itself was my responsibility, and I had no idea where to start.

  “Good,” I said in answer to my dad’s question. “I mean, we’re working on it. Just a few details to figure out.” I knew I could ask him for help if I needed it. But I kind of wanted to figure this out for myself, if I could.

  The phone rang and I lunged to answer it, nearly tripping over Tombo, who bolted out of the room as if I’d dropped a grenade on his head.

  “Hello?” I said into the receiver.

  “Hey!” It was Rosie’s voice. I smiled. I realized I hadn’t actually expected her to call me, even though she’d said she would.

  “Hi Rosie!”

  Deandre rolled his eyes and got up to clear the table. I took the portable phone into the den, where Tombo was rolling on his back on the couch. I noticed that he was leaving little brown hairs all over the white leather. I hoped Mom and Dad wouldn’t be too upset about that. The boxer looked positively gleeful as he knocked our burnt orange throw pillows onto the floor. The matching blanket on the back of the couch was all crumpled into a corner of the cushions.

  “Do you still want to go to the park today?” Rosie asked. “Miguel said he’d walk over with me. I know he’s just looking for cheerleaders, but we can ditch him and hang out in the dog run with Buttons. Want to?”

  “Sure!” I said. “I’m so excited for you to meet Tombo!” Tombo sat up when he heard his name and tilted his head at me.

  “Who?” she said.

  “My dog! You’ll love him.”

  “Oh, right,” Rosie said, as if she’d forgotten our whole conversation yesterday. “Your dog. Right. You’re sure he’ll be nice to Buttons?”

  “Of course!” I said. I hadn’t even thought to worry about that. I sat down on the arm of the couch and tugged on one of the blanket tassels nervously. Tombo buried his nose between two couch cushions and started to root around, making grunting noises.

  “OK,” she said. “See you there in an hour?”

  “Awesome,” I said. I hung up and looked down at Tombo. Suddenly the big playdate I’d been looking forward to was filling me with dread instead. Would Tombo be good? What if Buttons didn’t like him after all?

  What if my whole plan was a failure?

  Deandre and I got to the dog run first. There was an older couple at the far end with a small terrier mutt, but they left through the other gate before we got Tombo’s leash off, so we had the whole place to ourselves. It was chilly and gray and windy, but sometimes the sun would peek through the clouds, and it didn’t feel like it was about to rain. Fallen red leaves rustled under our shoes and collected wetly in the fountain area.

  Tombo went galloping around again like he had the day before, with his long legs flying out giddily. He kept stopping to look at Deandre as if he expected another tennis ball to appear, but we weren’t going to make that mistake again!

  “Come here, Tombo!” I called. He tossed his head up so his ears flapped, sat down by the water fountain, and grinned at me. I made a mental note that we’d have to work on that. It would be too embarrassing to have a dog who didn’t come when he was called.

  The gate squeaked behind us. I whirled around, all excited to see Rosie and Buttons, but my smile fell off my face as I saw who was coming through the gate with them.

  Yup. Pippa. Why was she here? Rosie hadn’t said anything about inviting her!

  I forced the smile back on my face and waved. “Hey guys!”

  Suddenly a blur of brown fur shot past me. Tombo rocketed up to Buttons, knocked her over with his square snout, and planted one big paw on her tiny underbelly.

  Rosie shrieked like she was the one being sniffed all over by something ten times her size. “Help!” she yelled. “That dog’s going to eat Buttons!” She tried to shove Tombo off the poodle puppy, but he just gave her a Who the heck are you? look and stayed planted in place.

  “He’s not going to eat her!” I said, running up to them. At least, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t do that. Miss Hameed would have told us if he had trouble with other dogs. Wouldn’t she? Besides, Buttons was pawing cheerfully at his nose and trying to chew his jowls, so she didn’t seem that upset. I grabbed Tombo’s collar and yanked him away from Buttons.

  Immediately Buttons sprang up and tried to jump at Tombo’s face. Her small puff of a tail was wagging frantically and she let out little yips as she pounced on his paws.

  “See?” I said. “She’s totally fine. She likes him!”

  “He might have hurt her!” Rosie cried. She scooped Buttons up and cuddled the puppy close to her neck. “It’s all right, sweetie, you’re OK now,” she cooed. Buttons seriously gave her a look like, Well, yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?

  Behind her, her older brother Miguel rolled his eyes. “Rosie, there’s no need to act hysterical,” he said.

  “I’m not being hysterical!” Rosie said, her voice going up and up. “I just want to protect my puppy!”

  “You don’t need to protect her from Tombo,” I said. “He’s really friendly. Just look at his face.”

  Tombo wagged his whole butt and beamed at Rosie and Buttons.

  Rosie stared at me for a minute. Her black curls were pinned back with two pink butterfly barrettes and she was wearing her second-favorite pink sweater. I bet Pippa didn’t even know the order of Rosie’s favorite pink things like I did. Pippa was standing quietly a little ways away, watching Rosie nervously. Her long blond hair kept blowing in her face and she unbuttoned and buttoned the last button of her gray cardigan over and over again.

  “Tombo?” Rosie echoed. “Wait. This … this gigantic beast … is your new dog?”

  Of course that made me mad. I mean, it’s just basic psychology, not to mention manners: You never insult someone’s family and you especially never insult their dog. I’d never had a dog before, but even I knew that!

  “He’s not a gigantic beast!” I said. “He’s a boxer! And he’s a good dog!”

  Deandre made a little snorting noise and I shot him a death glare. Tombo grinned up at me like, Well, we don’t have to tell her the WHOLE truth.

  “You didn’t tell me you got a big slobbery shedding dog!” Rosie said. “I thought you got another cute little dog like Buttons! So they could be friends!”

  “Tombo and Buttons can be friends,” I said. “She loves playing with any dog, no matter what size they are.?
??

  “Sure, maybe she does, but what if he squashes her by accident or something?” Rosie demanded. “With his great galumphing paws?”

  “Jeez, Rosie, she’s a puppy. She’s not made of glass,” Miguel chimed in. Now it was his turn to get a death glare. He held up his hands like he was surrendering. “I’m staying out of this. Deandre, want to go to the lake?”

  “Yeah, OK.” Miguel is a year older than my brother, but they’ve hung out a lot because of Rosie and me, so they’re friends in that way guys are where they don’t call each other, but they always seem cool with seeing each other. Deandre tugged lightly on my pink hair scarf. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Yeah, and no fighting, girls,” Miguel said, as if he were a hundred years older than us and all wise about friendships and the universe and everything. I think Rosie and I both wanted to kick him right then.

  Neither of us said anything as the guys went out the gate. Rosie was still clutching Buttons to her, but the puppy was starting to wriggle like she really wanted to get down and play. She made a little frustrated whimpering noise and stared at Tombo.

  “Just let them play,” I said. “You’ll see. They’ll have fun, I swear.”

  Rosie looked over at Pippa. That made me mad too. Like suddenly Pippa was the person she asked for advice? What did Pippa know about anything? Especially dogs?

  Pippa tucked her hair behind her ear and stubbed her sneaker against the ground. “It seems OK to me,” she said softly. “I mean, it looks like Buttons really wants to play.”

  Well, OK. At least she was on my side for once.

  Rosie sighed dramatically. “Fine, but I’m watching him!” she said.

  My temper flared, but I held my tongue. Dad always says that when you’re mad, you should stop and think through what you’re going to say and how you want the other person to react. Like, don’t just say the first thing that pops into your head. I’m not very good at this, but I try!

  I hung on to Tombo’s collar as Rosie gently set Buttons down on the ground. The moment she let go, Buttons barreled over to Tombo and stood up on her hind legs, trying to paw at his face. I let go of Tombo, and he did a funny little dance with his front paws, bending over like he was bowing with his butt up in the air and his stubby tail waving madly. Buttons squeaked with delight and batted his nose.

  Tombo scrunched himself all the way down until his head was lower than hers and his whole body was pressed into the ground. He wriggled closer to her like he was saying, See, I’m not so big! I’m not scary at all! I can be little like you!

  “Ruff!” Buttons yipped, jumping back and shaking herself so her white fur puffed out. She pounced on Tombo’s massive head and flopped across his face like she thought she was pinning him down.

  Tombo pawed cautiously at the fuzzy thing clinging to his face, and then he stretched himself out and rolled over, exposing his pale pink and white underbelly. Buttons rolled with him, and as her paws hit the ground on the other side of his head, she let out a little yelp.

  Rosie darted forward with a horrified gasp and snatched her up. Both Tombo and Buttons looked confused.

  “See?” Rosie said to me. “He’s too big to play with her!”

  “That’s crazy!” I said. “Buttons was having fun! She likes him!”

  Rosie was busy inspecting each of Buttons’ paws carefully, looking for injuries in a fussy, melodramatic way. Buttons licked Rosie’s ear and then pressed her front paws against the side of Rosie’s face, pushing her away like she was saying, Sheesh, Mom, I’m FINE; can I please go PLAY now?

  Rosie shook her head. “I just can’t believe you chose a dog like that,” she said to me. “Was it Deandre? Did he pick it? I know how brothers are. And you don’t stand up to yours the way I do to mine.”

  In a flash, I saw what I could do — what I ought to do — to stay Rosie’s friend. If I told her the boxer was Deandre’s idea, I knew exactly what would happen. I could picture the sympathetic look on her face and the way she’d squeeze my hand as we talked about how awful big brothers are. She’d nod and listen with her black curls bobbing as I told her about all the trouble Tombo had caused already and how worried I was about him being a bad dog. She’d gasp and giggle about Dad’s shoe. And then she’d pat my shoulder and tell me I could come play with Buttons anytime I felt too overwhelmed by “Deandre’s dog.”

  It would work. It would be perfect. And all I had to do to make this dream of friendship unfold was betray Tombo.

  I looked down at his sweet, confused face. He wouldn’t even know. “I — I guess — maybe —” I said.

  “I knew it!” Rosie stuck out her tongue at Tombo. “I knew you wouldn’t pick a dog like that yourself. But you’re too nice, Michelle, letting Deandre make all the decisions. I’ve always said I’d never let my brothers push me around like that.”

  I was already feeling guilty, and like I’d somehow betrayed Deandre too. “Well, I mean, I don’t actually —”

  “It’s too bad they left already,” Rosie said, glancing around, “or else we could make them take Tombo with them. Then we could play with Buttons without worrying about him.”

  “They could still play …” I started to say, but trailed off at the stubborn look on Rosie’s face.

  “I brought a tennis ball to throw for her,” Rosie said. “It is the cutest thing watching her fetch it. That’ll be way more fun than the two of them playing anyway, even if it wasn’t totally dangerous too.”

  After Tombo’s performance the day before, I couldn’t exactly suggest throwing the ball for both of them. Rosie would be furious if he destroyed her tennis ball. But it didn’t seem fair. Even Buttons looked much more interested in Tombo than playing with us.

  Tombo crouched down a little lower and gave Rosie a pleading look. To me, it was like his good intentions were written all over his face. Why couldn’t she see that like I could?

  “I know,” Rosie said in her queen-of-the-playground voice. “Michelle, put his leash on him and tie him to the fence. That way he’ll have to stay put while we play with Buttons.”

  I met Tombo’s eyes and felt horrible. “But —”

  “Right, Pippa?” Rosie said. “That’s what we should do, isn’t it?”

  Pippa lifted one shoulder and looked anxious. “Um, sure, I guess.”

  “It’s not like he’ll care,” Rosie said. “He’ll probably just go to sleep, like Meatball does in our agility classes. He probably won’t even notice the difference.”

  I knew that wasn’t true. I knew exactly how poor Tombo would feel — left out, just like I did when Rosie hung out with Pippa and didn’t invite me. He’d feel unwanted and tossed aside. He’d be desperate to play with us and Buttons, and he’d be heartbroken that we weren’t including him.

  Tombo poked my hand with his nose. His chocolate-brown eyes asked me why he couldn’t play with the funny little dog. The wrinkles in his forehead seemed to be saying Why are we all so tense? What are we worrying about? Can I help? Can I fix it?

  “This isn’t fair,” I said. I could hear Dad’s voice in my head saying “Stop and think through how you want them to react!” But that didn’t help, because right then I just wanted to make Rosie as mad as she was making me.

  “You’re being so mean to Tombo without even giving him a chance,” I said. “He wants to be a good dog! Even Buttons knows that! You’re the only one judging him by his size instead of his character, which is exactly what you’re always complaining people do about small dogs, so you should know better. And for your information, I picked him, not Deandre. I picked him because he’s sweet and good, and I love him, and he’s much nicer and more loyal than you are anyway, Rosie Sanchez!”

  Rosie’s mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?” she cried. “I’m not mean at all! I’m nice! I’m your friend!”

  “Oh, yeah?” I said. “Because lately it seems like you’re Pippa’s friend and nobody else’s.”

  Pippa turned b
right pink. She and Rosie both looked completely astonished, as if I’d just accused them of being Martians or something.

  “I thought all three of us were friends,” Rosie said.

  “No, you thought I was your extra friend, for spare whenever Pippa’s not around. Well, not anymore!” I said. I clipped Tombo’s leash onto his collar. “Come on, Tombo, we know where we’re not wanted.”

  I tried to march angrily out of the dog run, but it was hard because Tombo kept stopping to gaze back at Buttons or trying to lurch back toward her, and I ended up having to drag him through the gates. So it wasn’t quite the dramatic exit I wanted.

  I also realized as the gate clanged behind me that Deandre had told me to stay there. But I couldn’t go back after that, could I? I’d have to go look for him at the lake.

  “We told her, didn’t we, Tombo?” I said as we headed down the path. My dog shook himself and tried to catch a flying leaf in his mouth. He was happy again now that we were together. Maybe he’d even forgotten about Buttons already.

  He had no idea that he’d just caused the biggest fight I’d ever had with my best friend.

  The wind felt like it was getting colder as I walked under the yellow and orange trees toward the lake. I wrapped the leash around one wrist and stuck my hands in the pockets of my dark red fleece jacket. I wished I’d remembered to bring gloves. It was only October twelfth, but thick gray clouds were piling up in front of the sun and hiding its warmth.

  Tombo loved the wind. He jumped around like a crazy thing every time a leaf whipped past his nose and he kept spinning to stare at the bushes when they creaked and rustled.

  I’d only gone halfway down the path when I started feeling terrible. At first I was really proud of myself for standing up for Tombo. But then the fight had turned into something else. When it was about our dogs, I knew I was right to defend him. But although I’d been thinking all those thoughts about our friendship for months, I wasn’t sure I should have said them out loud. Especially in front of Pippa. I didn’t mean to make her feel bad.