George Knows Read online

  “He isn’t my friend.” He points to Karly. “George is hers.”

  Can’t argue with the Boypup. Except, for the “hers” part. Everyone knows she’s mine.

  Auntie Heather is whispering with Packmom. Packmom nods her head.

  Wonder what that’s all about?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  We are eating in the picnic area of the park. I raise my snout from my supper dish. It’s filled with all sorts of nummies. Mainly green beans, but there are bits of chicken, tomatoes, and hamburger. It seems all so normal.

  The Hodag must’ve known her woods are safe because she’s not there anymore. Even her trash heap is gone. Most of the trash in the park is gone. The animals are back and making happy noises. The mosquitoes bite, the birds sing, the squirrels are obnoxious, and the rabbits…rabbit? Rabbitrabbitrabbit!

  Where? There is the slightest whiff of one coming from the field. I feel Karly staring at me. She puts a carrot cupcake into my bowl. “I didn’t forget you.”

  I inhale the cupcake with one gulp.

  More? Yup, one piece. I snag the last bit of hamburger. Swallow it. I plunge into the bowl, sucking in all the numminess and lick it clean.

  Karly removes the leash from the post where she hooked the handle and releases me from the other end. Why can’t she unsnap the thing and take it with her? Why does she even need it anymore, she’s fine now without it.

  Karly plops on the ground next to me, crosses her legs and props her elbows on her knees. She blows out her breath and her hair puffs away from her face. It’s easier to watch everyone without hair in the way. She needs grooming. My fur is a perfect length. I give my leg a swipe with my tongue. Karly strokes my back. I arch into it.

  More.

  I stick my nose in Karly’s neck. She smelltastes of Girlpupsoapsmokeburger. With an undernote of…the good soap Auntie Heather makes. No chemicals. She smiles.

  My Girlpup is smelltasting through me. I lick her and she giggles.

  “Auntie Heather is showing me how to make stuff so I don’t sweat and stink up the place. What I think stinks—not what you think does. I won’t get embarrassed around friends. You won’t get sick.”

  Compromise. The Girlpup is growing up. Sure takes long enough with Peeps.

  Oh. My tummy isn’t happy. I check to see if there is anything left in my dish. Nothing.

  Tummy still feels bad—grass’ll fix it. I amble over and snarf down a little.

  Still not quite right.

  I hork up what is bothering me. Karly makes her own horking noise. She doesn’t make the sound right at all, but what do Peeps know about such important matters?

  Hmmm. There isn’t anything in the pile that should bother me. I gobble it back up. Yep, that’s better. Actually, it tastes better the second time around.

  Karly is edging away from me. Uh-uh. Tell me how everything worked out.

  “Ick. George, that was gross. How could you do that?”

  That is the dumbest question the Girlpup has ever asked me. I roll my eyes. Hey. How did the Hodag know she could go? I know she can understand me now.

  She shrugs. “I’m not sure. Dad said that the developers weren’t happy, but they came and got their trucks and stuff. Maybe she saw them go.”

  Auntie Heather walks up, eyes the spot where I had seconds of my dinner, and shakes her head.

  “Is your stomach upset, or did you eat too fast?”

  I wag my tail. My tummy is just fine.

  “Did you see the woods? Every single can, candy wrapper, and bag is gone. I don’t think she cleaned up the park on purpose—she loves her shiny things. It’s a shame we don’t know where she went. Or where the animals were.” Auntie Heather shrugs. “I didn’t realize how much more magic there was in those books. It’ll keep us busy.”

  My super hearing picks up Joey crying to his mom, who is sitting at a picnic table.

  “Bu…bu…but, she was my friend. Why didn’t she tell me she was going?”

  I want to ignore him, but I smell something interesting.

  It isn’t Packmom, who is wiping his tears and snot from his face with the hem of her shirt. I’d do it with my tongue. What do I smell?

  “Honey, she had to go back to her house. I’m sure she’s sad she couldn’t say good-bye to you. Look, Auntie Heather has something for you that’ll make you happy. Why don’t you go see what it is?”

  Boypup springs off Packmom’s lap and over to Auntie Heather. He’s loyal like that.

  Snort.

  Boypups.

  Now, what is that I smelltaste? It’s familiar.

  “Bark, bark, bark.”

  The soprano sound hits my ears before I see her pulling to Joey. Patches of tan and white, long, small wriggly body, short legs, long ears.

  She’s beautiful.

  “Auntie Heather! Is she mine? Mom! Can I keep her? Puhleeze?”

  A puppygirl basset.

  Oh, yeah! “Aroooooo”. Can we keep her? I can already tell she’s going to grow up to be a looker.

  Not sure what I think about Joey raising her. With Karly and me on the job, he shouldn’t be able to wreck her. I strain against the leash, introduce me already.

  Auntie Heather hands the leash to Joey. The little puppygirl is cute. Her paws are too big and she trips over her ears. I think I’m in love. Come on Karly, I want to meet her.

  “Her name is Tillie. Be very careful with her, she’s only three months old.” Auntie Heather smiles at the Boypup and the puppygirl.

  “Is she really mine? Mom?” Joey pleads with “basset eyes.” He’s been practicing.

  Yeah, is she really ours? I slip out of my collar and amble over.

  Well, hello there Tillie. What’s up?

  Apparently her belly as she roles over to establish who’s alpha. I am in love. I sniff her butt, nuzzle her belly, and lick in her ears. She smelltastes of newsprintpuppychowmilk. One of my favorite smelltastes.

  “The way you made friends with the Hodag showed your dad and me that you were ready for your own puppy. You’re in charge of feeding, cleaning, and training her, though. She’s just a baby and you don’t want to get her in trouble or hurt, right? Can you handle that?”

  If he can’t, I will. Except the feeding part—no way is she getting my food.

  Food? I walk over to my supper dish.

  It’s empty.

  Sigh.

  About the Author

  Mindy Mymudes runs with the Muddy Paws Pack in Milwaukee, WI. She insists she is alpha, even as the dogs walk all over her. She hunts, cleans the den and keeps them entertained. When she can escape the pack, she enjoys digging in dirt, listening to audiobooks, and weaving the antics of the pack into stories. The alpha male, Tall Dude, just shakes his head and stays out of the way.

  * * * *

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  Thank you

  MuseItUp Publishing

  To the Tall Dude,

  who still helps and supports me.

  And, great unpaid kennel help.

  Who knew that asking you to help me with my chemistry would polymerize us?

  Acknowledgements

  It took a kennel to write this. First, the Breakaway Babes, who have my back, no matter where in the world; thank you Dee Hoosier, Stephanie King, and Enny Oheeal (JK). To my writing mentor and bud, Faith Hunter, who is a great cheerleader and better teacher. George doesn’t even mind if she writes about a big cat. The Peeps at The Magical Words site, who taught me so much. Thank you Erin Dunbar and Les Tucker for making George understandable to more than just other dogs. To K-9 Obedience Training Club of Menomonee Falls, Cudahy Kennel Club and Cream City Canines for helping me understand dogs, even if George is a perfect basset hound familiar. Kathie and Michael Giorgio of AllWrit
ers’ Workplace & Workshop, helped return my confidence. Kim Weckerly, Sandy Goldsworthy and Kelly Risser gave me invaluable critiques. The Muddy Paws Pack, Chrystal, Cera, and the Freaky Beak, Mandy, for keeping the insanity alive. And Sandy Case, I know you’re at the rainbow bridge with your own pack, but spend a bit of time with Charm, Quark, and Joey. Thank you for everything you did for me. You left us all far too young.

  George Knows © 2013 by Mindy Mymudes

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  MuseItUp Publishing

  14878 James, Pierrefonds, Quebec, Canada, H9H 1P5

  Cover Art © 2013 by Marion Sipe

  Edited by Erin Dunbar

  Copy edited by Les Tucker

  Layout and Book Production by Lea Schizas

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-77127-455-5

  First eBook Edition *December 2013

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