Catch That Wave, page 1
For Bonnie Bader, editor extraordinaire, who never lets my writing go to the dogs—unless it’s supposed to!—NK
To Fin and Queenie—SB
GROSSET & DUNLAP
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Text copyright © 2013 by Nancy Krulik. Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Sebastien Braun. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012032123
ISBN: 978-0-698-15940-2
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
Fun Facts About Sparky’s Adventures in Hawaii
About the Author
About the Illustrator
CHAPTER 1
“Sit.”
Uh-oh. What am I supposed to do when my two-leg, Josh, says, “Sit”? Is that the one where I dance on my back paws, or the one where I roll around on the floor, or…?
I look around the room. What are the other puppies doing? It’s hard to tell. They all look kind of confused, too. Boy, school is really hard.
Josh looks me in the eye. “Sit.” He raises his hand.
I look up at his hand. Is there a treat in there? I think there might be! I look up even higher and…plop. I land right on my rear end. Oh yeah. That’s what sit means. “Good dog, Sparky,” Josh says.
I smile. Those are three two-leg words I definitely understand.
But I don’t sit for long. My paws start bouncing up and down. My tail goes crazy.
Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Josh is reaching into his bag. He’s pulling something out. It’s a…
Wiggle, waggle, whoopee! It’s a liver treat! My favorite. I jump up and grab the treat from his hand. Treats are the best thing about school.
All around me, puppies are getting treats from their two-legs. I wish I could sniff the other puppies’ butts and say hello. But I can’t. At school, I’m only allowed to play with Josh.
Which is okay, because I love Josh. I also love that he’s got that bag of my favorite treats. Yummy, yum, yum.
My tail wags harder. It’s happy about the treat, too. Which is weird because my tail can’t eat. It doesn’t have a mouth.
“Sit,” Josh says again.
Plop. I land on my rear end.
Josh reaches into the bag. Oh boy! Here comes another treat.
But Josh doesn’t give me the treat. Instead, he holds it and walks away.
“Sparky, stay,” Josh says.
I know what stay means. My paws have to be still and not follow Josh.
But Josh has that whole bag of liver treats. My paws can’t be still. They walk toward him.
“Stay,” Josh says again. But I don’t listen. I can’t. I want those treats!
My paws keep moving. Fast. Faster. Fastest.
My mouth starts barking. “Treat! Treat! Treat!”
Boom! I run right into Josh. He falls down. And the bag of treats flies up! Wiggle, waggle, woo-hoo! It’s raining liver!
“Piñata time!” Charlie the Chihuahua yips excitedly.
“Party!” Frisky the collie barks.
Soon all the puppies are barking. “Treats! Treats! Treats!”
All the two-legs are shouting. “Stay! Stay! Stay!”
But none of us stay. How can we? There are treats everywhere!
My eyes see a treat in the middle of the room. My paws must see it, too, because they start to run right for it.
Frisky’s paws run for the same treat.
Bam! Ow! We hit each other in the head.
Charlie sneaks in between us and grabs the treat.
“Hey, no fair!” I bark. “That was mine.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Frisky barks back. “It was mine.”
“It’s mine now,” Charlie says. He licks his lips. “And it’s delicious.”
Sniff, sniff, sniff. Wait. What’s that in the corner? Wiggle, waggle, wow! There’s a whole pile of liver treats there.
“Look out, liver; here I come!” I bark as my paws start to run to the corner. Chomp! My mouth scoops up the treats and my teeth start chewing. Mmmm.
“Bad dog, Sparky!”
Uh-oh. I understand those words. But I don’t like them. My tail doesn’t like them, either. It sinks down between my legs.
I look up at Josh. “I’m sorry,” I whimper. I cock my head and look extracute.
But Josh does not smile. He just says something to another two-leg. That two-leg shakes her head and twirls her hand in a circle.
I know what that means! I get down on my belly and roll over.
But Josh doesn’t smile. He doesn’t call me a good dog for doing the roll-over trick. He just clicks my leash onto my collar and leads me out of the room.
Wiggle, waggle, uh-oh. I’m in trouble now…
CHAPTER 2
“So, it didn’t go so well at school last night, huh, kid?” Frankie, the German shepherd who lives next door, says to me over the fence the next morning.
I look up from the hole I am diggety, dig, digging in the flower bed and shake my head. “Nope. But it wasn’t my fault. Josh had treats.”
“You’re supposed to wait for your two-leg to give you a treat,” Samson, the big mixed-breed who lives on the other side of the yard, says. “That’s what you learn in school.”
“School,” I bark back. “I hate that two-leg word. Whenever Josh says it, I run and hide. But he always finds me.”
“You can’t hide from school, kid,” Frankie says.
“Frankie’s right,” Samson tells me. “Going to school and learning tricks is something every dog should do. It’s good for us.”
“Why?” I ask him.
“I don’t really know, but it is,” Samson says.
Wow. I thought Samson knew everything.
“Learning tricks isn’t that bad,” Samson continues. “It’s the easiest way I know to get treats.”
“I love treats,” I admit. “But they don’t love me. I ate too many yesterday. My stomach got all wiggly-wobbly. I left a pile of yuck on the floor of the car.”
“Been there, done that,” Frankie says. “How can something so good make you feel so bad?”
Samson yawns. “All this talk about tricks and treats is making me tired,” he says. “I’m going inside to take a nap.”
I know what Samson means. Sit. Stay. Roll over. Heel. Thinking about those two-leg words makes my head ache.
But I don’t feel like napping. It’s too early. Josh only just left in his big machine with the four round paws.
My paws think it’s a good time to go back to diggety, dig, digging.
“You better stop digging up that flower bed,” Frankie warns me. “You’re in enough trouble with your two-leg already.”
Oops. Frankie’s right. Josh doesn’t like when I dig up his flowers. And I’ve duggety, dug, dug up a whole lot of them.
“I’m going inside,” Frankie tells me. “My two-leg had bacon this morning. I’m going to go see if she left any behind.”
Frankie pads off into his house. Now I’m alone, with nothing to do. I’ve already duggety, dug, dug. I’ve already rolled in the mud. And I’ve already watered the grass—if you know what I mean.
Sniff, sniff, sniff. Just then, I smell something amazing. Like chicken, beef, and sausage all rolled into one.
I think the smell is coming from the big hole I’ve been digging. I look deep down. And that’s when I see it. My bone. Buried under the flower bed. Right where I left it!
My bone isn’t just any bone. It has magic powers. It can kaboom me right out of my yard! No, really. The last time I took a bite of my magic bone, it took me all the way to London!
London was fun—and yummy, yum, yum. You wouldn’t believe the snacks
But London was scary, too. There were mean folks there, like the dogcatcher who threw me in the pound, and the Bulldog Boys. I never want to meet up with that gang of growlers again.
Sniff, sniff, sniff. My magic bone smells so meaty. I can’t help myself. I just have to…chomp!
Wiggle, waggle, whew. I feel dizzy—like my insides are spinning all around—but my outsides are standing still. Stars are twinkling in front of my eyes—even though it’s daytime! All around me, I smell food—fried chicken, salmon, roast beef. But there isn’t any food in sight.
Kaboom!
CHAPTER 3
Wiggle, waggle, wow!
I’m standing in front of the biggest water bowl ever! It’s so big that I can’t see the edges. It just goes on and on and on. Good thing. Because I’m really thirsty!
Come on, paws! Let’s go get some water!
Ow! Ow! Ooooo! My paws don’t like this place one bit. This dirt is not soft like the grass and mud back home. It’s hard and scratchy. And hot!
But the water is cool. And Josh isn’t here to tell me “no!” when I step in the water bowl. In fact, none of the two-legs around here are telling me no. I think I’m gonna like this place—wherever it is.
I grip my magic bone between my front paws and drink.
Slurpity, slurp, yuck! My tongue gets all dry. The water burns going down my throat.
Burning water. Now that is really strange.
Spit, spit, spit. I can’t get this water out of my mouth fast enough. Spit. Splash. Whoa! A big wall of water hits me, hard. It knocks me right on my tail. Ouch! I have itchy, scratchy dirt in places dirt should never go.
But I hold on tight to my magic bone. I don’t want to lose it in the giant water bowl. If I did, how would I ever get home?
Shakity, shake, shake! I shake my body all around. Water flies everywhere!
A group of two-legs sitting nearby gets up and moves away from the giant water bowl. I guess they don’t like the salty water, either.
Splash! Another big wall of water knocks me on my tail.
Wham! Water rushes into my ears and eyes, and up my nose. Wow, does it burn!
Aaachhoooo! I sneeze. The water rushes off me and back into the bowl. A big stream of goo drips out of my nose.
“Ha-ha, ha-ha!”
I turn around and see a Shiba Inu laughing at me. She sniffs my butt to say hello. “My name is Olina,” she yips.
“I’m Sparky,” I bark. I sniff her butt to say hello, too.
Olina laughs again.
“What’s so funny?” I ask her.
“You are,” Olina says. “You’re covered with sand.”
“Sand?” I repeat. “What’s that?”
Olina paws at the scratchy dirt. “This stuff,” she says. “And your fur is all soggy.”
“That’s not my fault,” I insist. “Somebody must have tilted that giant water bowl. The water got all over me.”
“Giant water bowl?” Olina looks confused. “Oh, you mean the ocean?”
“The what?” I ask her.
“The ocean,” she repeats. “The Pacific Ocean. That water goes all around Maui.”
Owie? I look at her strangely. An owie sounds like she just got hurt. But she didn’t even move. You can’t get an owie if you’re standing still. At least, I don’t think you can.
“I get owies all the time,” I tell her. “Yesterday, I was chasing a treat, and my fur got in my eyes, and I banged right, into a collie. Owie!”
Olina giggles again. “Not owie,” she explains. “Maui. That’s the name of this island. Don’t you know anything?”
I know lots of things. I know I’m not supposed to jump on the couch. Or stick my snout in some other dog’s pee when I’m out for a walk. And now I know that when a two-leg says, “Sit,” you’re supposed to plop down on your rear end. But I don’t think that’s what she means. I look at her, confused.
“Anyway, aloha, Sparky,” she says to me. “Welcome.”
“Aloha?” I ask her. “I thought you said Maui.”
Olina laughs. Again. I don’t like the way she’s always laughing at me. It’s not polite. Samson would have a thing or two to say to her about that.
“Maui is the name of this island,” Olina explains. “Aloha is how we say hello here in Hawaii.”
Hawaii? Aloha? Maui? I have trouble keeping all the words straight in school. But the words in this place are really confusing.
“Nice bone,” Olina says, changing the subject. She points her snout toward my magic bone.
I step away with my bone. What if she takes it from me? How would I get back home?
But Olina doesn’t go for my bone. She heads off after her two-leg instead. “Bye, Sparky,” she barks as she runs.
I better bury my magic bone quick. Olina was little. And she didn’t try to take it from me. But what if a big dog comes by who wants a taste? I’d be in real trouble.
Okay, where should I bury the bone? When I was in London, I buried it under a sign with a duck painted on it. That made it easy to find again. Hmmm. There aren’t any duck signs here.
But there is a little wooden house with a whole pile of chairs outside. Wiggle, waggle, perfect! I’ll bury my bone there! It will be easy to find when I’m ready to take a bite and go home.
Diggety, dig, dig. The sand flies all around.
I drop my bone in my great big hole. Scratchety, scratch, scratch. I turn around and use my back paws to scrape all that scratchy sand back into the hole. My bone is completely buried. No other dog will ever find it.
Rumble, rumble, grumble. That’s my tummy talking to me. I speak tummy. So I know my tummy is telling me that it’s hungry.
Good-bye, bone. I’ll be back to get you later. Right now, I’m off on a new adventure! A yummy, tummy adventure!
CHAPTER 4
Sniff, sniff, sniff.
Wow! This place smells almost as good as my magic bone. I smell food everywhere! Chicken, fish, meatloaf. Mmmm. I think I’m going to like it on Maui!
The best part is that the two-legs are all sitting on blankets. I don’t know why the blankets are on the ground. I thought blankets only went on beds. But here they go on the sand. And the two-legs are eating on top of them.
I know the rule. I’m not supposed to grab food from a table. But there are no tables. And anything that falls on the ground is mine if I want it. Everything here is on the ground. Which means I can eat everything these two-legs have. Wiggle, waggle, woo-hoo!
Sniff, sniff, sniff.
Mmmm. My nose knows when it smells something good. Right now it smells fried chicken. My tail starts wagging wildly. It likes chicken, too.
I spot the two-legs who are eating chicken. They are sitting under one of those things Josh holds over his head to catch the water when it falls from the sky. A lot of two-legs are sitting under water catchers. Which is strange, because there isn’t any water falling from the sky.
But I don’t care about the weather. All I want is that fried chicken.
Sniff, sniff, snag! My teeth grab a big piece of chicken. Yummy, yum, yum!
“No!” Just then, one of the two-legs jumps up on his two legs and shouts angrily.
But I don’t stop chewing. He can’t be talking to me. I followed the rule. The chicken was on the ground. It’s mine.
Lots of two-legs are shouting. I don’t understand what they’re saying. But they sound angry. Really angry. My tail is scared. It tucks itself between my legs.
I look up, and they are all screaming—at me.
Come on, paws. We gotta get out of here. I drop the chicken and run.
Go, paws! Go!
Boy, do my paws go! Fast. Faster. Fastest.
I’m not sure where I am going. My fur is flying in my eyes. And I can’t see a thing.
But my paws keep running away from the screaming two-legs. Fast. Faster…Boom! Crash!
Uh-oh! I just knocked over a giant water catcher.
Then that water catcher knocks over another one. Which knocks over another one. And another…“No! Bad dog!”
I know what those words mean. And I don’t like them.
“It’s not my fault!” I bark back at the two-legs. “I had fur in my eyes. And my paws wouldn’t stop. Bad paws!” I bark at my paws. “Rotten fur in my eyes!” I bark at my fur.
