Cocoa (2 page)

“Whooaaa!” Charles let out a whoop as Cocoa towed him down the sidewalk, the same way she’d towed Meg. This sure was one strong puppy. It wasn’t easy to get her to sit still outside of China Star while Dad went in to pick up their food, but Charles tried his best. “Sit, Cocoa,” he said. Instead of sitting, the dog jumped up on him, her big paws landing squarely in the middle of his chest.

That’s my name! That’s my name! That’s my name!

Charles staggered, but did not fall down. He tried to remember what Lizzie, who knew everything
about training dogs, would say about what to do next. “Ignore the bad behavior and reward good behavior,” she always said. So Charles did not yell at Cocoa or touch her or say her name again. He just turned to one side so that her paws slid off him and she landed back on the sidewalk.

“Sit,” he said again. This time he didn’t use her name, since he could already see that hearing her name always seemed to make Cocoa very excited. And this time, he put his hand on her butt, pressing gently but firmly to make sure she understood what he wanted. At the same moment, he pulled up a little on the leash so that her head came up as her butt went down. He resisted the urge to say “sit” again, remembering that it never helped to repeat a command over and over. He’d learned all of this when he and Lizzie had taken one of their foster puppies, a wild Jack Russell terrier named Rascal, to puppy kindergarten.

“Good
girl
!” Charles cried when Cocoa sat. Immediately, she sprang up again and danced around him, wriggling her whole body and grinning a big doggy grin.

Yay, yay, yay! I made you happy!

“Oh, boy,” sighed Charles as he untangled the leash and got ready to start over.

“Hey, wow!” Harry came out of China Star carrying a shopping bag loaded with food. “Is this the puppy your dad just told me about? She looks exactly like Zeke when he was a pup.” He set the bag on the sidewalk and knelt down, opening his arms to Cocoa. “Oh, you. Oh, you silly girl. Oh, yes, you’re a knucklehead, aren’t you?” he murmured, as he let her lick him all over his face. Then he snatched up the bag before she could stick her nose into it. He grinned at Charles.
“You’re going to have your hands full with this one,” he said. “I guarantee it.”

“I know,” said Charles, shaking his head. “But she’s going to be a great dog. I can already tell.”

“I’ll come visit her one day soon,” said Harry. “And we’ll talk more about the relay race, okay?” He held out his hand for a high five.

Charles smacked his hand. “Okay,” he said.

Harry began to walk toward city hall. “Hey,” he called, turning back toward Charles. “You do know how to cross-country ski, right?”

“Well …” Charles began. He had tried cross-country skiing exactly once, when his family had gone on a winter vacation in Vermont. He’d loved it, and he had seemed to pick it up more quickly than Lizzie, but he couldn’t exactly claim to be an expert. He did have his own skis, though. Dad had gotten them at a ski swap in the fall. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Great!” said Harry. “See ya!” With a wave, he jogged off.

Charles watched him go, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

A few minutes later, Dad came out of the restaurant. “Let’s go,” he said.

Cocoa didn’t need any encouragement to jump into Dad’s pickup. She seemed to be happy to do whatever Charles and Dad asked her to do. Charles thought that might be a good sign. Maybe she would be a quick learner. Charles hugged her close as they drove home. His mouth watered as the spicy smells of China Star food filled the cab of the truck.

Lizzie threw open the door as soon as they pulled into the driveway. “Where is she? Oh, she’s adorable! Come here, Cocoa!”

Cocoa leapt out of the truck and charged toward Lizzie before Charles could grab her leash. “Oof!” Lizzie gasped as Cocoa jumped up onto
her. She sat down hard on the back steps, laughing as Cocoa licked her face all over.

“That’s how she says hello,” Charles said. “She’s a big kisser.”

“She’s pretty big, period,” said Lizzie, throwing her arms around the puppy. “You’re a big, goofy girl, that’s what.”

“Better make sure she doesn’t knock the Bean over, or jump up on Mom,” warned Dad. “That wouldn’t be a good start.”

“I’ll take her out in the backyard for a minute and let her run around,” suggested Charles. “Maybe she’ll burn off some energy.”

Out back, Charles discovered that Cocoa was very good at playing fetch. He threw Buddy’s ratty old tennis ball for her over and over. Cocoa scrambled for the ball, racing after it and catching it on the second or third bounce, every time. Then she dashed back to Charles, grinning around the tennis ball clenched tight in her jaws. She dropped it
at his feet, then backed up to wait, eyes shining and tail wagging, until he picked it up and threw it again.

“Okay,” said Charles, after a while. “I’m starving, and my arm hurts. Time to go in.” Cocoa sat and cocked her head at him.

Now? Just when we were starting to have fun?

Charles laughed. “We’ll play more tomorrow,” he promised. Cocoa galloped up the back porch stairs and followed him inside.

“Yum,” said Charles when he came into the kitchen. Mom had set all the food out on the table, and it looked great — especially the House Special chow fun, with its wide noodles and mixture of veggies, shrimp, and meat. Cocoa dashed past him, put her muddy paws up on the counter, and grabbed an empty take-out container in her jaws.

“No!” yelled Mom. “Bad dog.”

Startled, Cocoa let the container fall from her mouth. She ambled over to the water dish Mom had set out and lapped noisily, splashing water all over the floor. Then she walked around in a circle three times, landed with a thump on the floor, and fell asleep almost instantly.

“We’re going to have to do some extra puppy-proofing in this house, I can see that,” said Mom, shaking her head. But she was smiling. Cocoa was too cute to be mad at for long.

The House Special chow fun was delicious. Charles loved the big wide noodles and the yummy sauce. Maybe he had finally found his favorite dish.

Cocoa was still sleeping when the Petersons finished dinner. Quickly, Dad cleared the table while Lizzie and Charles helped Mom to puppy-proof the house. They put away anything a curious dog might lick or eat or chew. They locked the garbage in the garage, and put the dog biscuits up in one of the high cabinets that only Mom and Dad could reach. They closed the bathroom doors so Cocoa wouldn’t get into the soap or the toilet paper, and they tucked their most favorite books into their bookshelves. They didn’t have to do all
this work for every puppy they fostered, or for Buddy, who was very well trained by now. But everybody remembered Jack, the boxer pup they had fostered, who had eaten — well, he’d eaten everything he could get his teeth into, basically. Including one of Lizzie’s most treasured books.

Cocoa raced around the house when she woke up, sniffing here and snuffling there. Charles loved to watch the way she got to know this new place. She was friendly to Buddy and she licked the Bean all over his face, making him laugh his googly laugh. She took every single toy out of Buddy’s toy basket and left them strewn all over the living room, but at least she didn’t tear any of them up. Then, after she ate her own dinner, she lay down on the bed they had put out for her and went back to sleep.

For the rest of the weekend, the Petersons made sure that Cocoa was never alone. Charles and Lizzie walked her and threw balls for
her and played games with her, keeping her busy. Plus, she played with Buddy.

Buddy loved Cocoa. From the second they met, they were like best friends. They even looked as if they might be related, despite the way the long-legged Lab towered over the smaller brown pup. They played all the time, every minute that they were both awake. They raced around the house, chasing each other. They played tug with Buddy’s toys. They wrestled on the living room rug. And when Charles took them outside they galloped around happily, chasing balls and each other and barking at squirrels.

By Sunday afternoon, Cocoa had already begun to calm down — a little. Charles decided that this was a good time to teach her a few things, especially since Dad and Lizzie had taken Buddy to the dog park to give him and Cocoa some time on their own.

Charles was in the living room, working on teaching Cocoa how to lie down on command, but he was having a hard time concentrating. The Bean had decided to practice his WinterFest songs in the same room. This year the Bean’s preschool was going to be starting off the festival’s caroling, and lately he went around singing all the time. Charles had never imagined that he could get tired of hearing “Deck the Halls,” but now that he had heard it for the millionth time he was starting to think maybe he could.

“Deck the halls with bells of jolly,”
sang the Bean. He stood near the fireplace, holding his hands up in front of him like little paws.
“Fa la la la la, la la la la.”

Charles laughed. There was no point in correcting his little brother. The Bean could be very stubborn about things, and if he thought you decked halls with bells of jolly instead of boughs
of holly, there would be no changing his mind. Anyway, Charles wasn’t a hundred percent sure what a bough of holly really was, so he didn’t want to get into a discussion about it.

“Deck the halls with bells of jolly,”
sang the Bean again. He was still holding up his little paws.

“What are you supposed to be,” Charles asked. “A squirrel?”

The Bean made googly-eyes at him. “No, silly!” He tossed his head. “Didn’t you see my antlers? I’m a reindeer! My whole class is reindeers!”

Sure enough, the Bean was wearing a headband that supported two velvety brown antlers, decorated with sparkly white snowflakes. “I
am
a silly,” Charles admitted. “Those antlers are very cool. Can I try them on?”

The Bean hesitated, touching his antlers.

“Just for a few minutes?” Charles asked.

The Bean folded his arms, thinking about it.

“I’ll let you play with my Legos,” said Charles. “You can build anything you want. You can even use the wheel thingies.”

The Bean smiled. “Okay,” he said. He took off the headband and handed the antlers to Charles.

Charles put on the antlers, checking in the hall mirror to make sure they were adjusted just right. He grinned at himself. They looked pretty good. He liked the way they felt, too. He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. He felt strong and …
noble
, that was the word. He felt noble. He could picture himself sailing through the air, pulling Santa’s sleigh tirelessly all through the starry night.

The Bean had gone off to find Mom, so Charles kept the antlers on as he went back to working with Cocoa. If you could get her to calm down a little and focus, she really was a fast learner. He had played ball with her in the backyard for a long time that morning, so she wasn’t quite as
wild. It did not take long at all to teach her how to wait when they came to a door, to pause to let him go first instead of pushing her way through ahead of him. He practiced in the doorway between the hall and the living room.

When Charles held up a hand and said, “Wait,” Cocoa sat — well, not quite, but she crouched — until he went through and said, “Okay!” Then she raced through the door to where he stood holding a treat. True, she usually raced past him, or into him, but so far she had not knocked him over. As soon as she’d gobbled each treat she spun around in circles, barking at Charles.

This is fun! Let’s do it again.

“Okay, okay, calm down, Cocoa. Ready to try one more time?” Charles asked. But just as he was getting set for another round, he heard a knock at the door. Cocoa scrambled wildly over the wood
floors, galloping to the door and screeching to a halt in front of it. She barked loudly.

Hurry up! Open the door! Open the door! Let’s see who it is!

Charles peeked through the window. It was Harry! He had a girl with him, a tall, thin girl Charles did not know. Charles flung the door open. “Hey,” he said happily.

Then he remembered.

He was still wearing the antlers.