Dog Days

The Cost Of Feeding

For a moment, Larry just stared at the sticker on the shelf below the bag of dog food. The price had gone up. And it hadn't gone up just a little. It had gone up a lot. "Hey, mister," Larry said, spotting one of the market's managers at the end of the aisle. "I think there's a mistake on this price." "Really? Let me see." The man pulled a small notebook from his pocket as he followed Larry back to the dog food. Then he bent down in front of the shelf. "That's some big mistake," Larry said. "I'm sure glad I noticed it." The man glanced at a page in his notebook, then back at the dog food. "No, it's right. They raised the price." He swept his hand past the different brands. "They all raised their prices. Sorry, kid. But that's the way it happens. Prices go up. Look on the bright side—your brand is still the cheapest." The man shrugged, then walked away.

Larry had no choice. The dogs needed the food no matter how much it cost. He bought the bag. Not only did he have to spend everything he'd taken from his bank, but he also had to go through his pockets to gather his change. I'm not going to make it, he thought as he carried the bag down the street. The money that was left in his bank wouldn't even be enough for the next bag. He couldn't keep buying dog food unless he earned more money. Larry knew he couldn't ask his parents to help out. Some months they barely managed to pay all the bills and buy food for themselves. The walk home felt a lot longer than usual. And the bag on his shoulder felt heavier than ever before. After Larry put the dog food in the closet, he sat down and tried to think of some ways to make more money. Later that afternoon, he'd go out to collect cans and newspapers, like he did every Monday. That was the best day of the week, because people wanted to get rid of the thick Sunday papers, and they seemed to drink more soda on the weekends. I could ask the neighbors for work today, he decided. He'd check at every house to see if there were any jobs he could do. Usually whenever he asked around, somebody had some kind of chore for him. During the last year, Larry had painted a fence, washed nine cars, weeded several yards, trimmed a couple hedges, and cleaned out one attic, two garages, and a basement. He was tempted to start looking right away, but he remembered that mostof the people in the neighborhood were at work. There was no point trying to talk to anyone yet. Larry was in the mood to play more baseball. Paul and his mom had already eaten lunch, but she'd made a sandwich for Larry to take along. He grabbed his glove and headed back to the park. But as he walked and ate, Larry's mind wandered. Mostly, he thought about how he was going to earn money for the dog food. He also thought about the dog he'd seen in the alley. Larry was so lost in thought that he didn't pay any attention to where he was headed. When he looked up, he realized he was close to the diner. It was the tail end of the lunch hour and the place was busy, people coming and going like ants at a picnic. I may as well take another look, he told himself. He sneaked up to the alley and peeked past the edge of the bookstore, wondering if the dog would growl at him again. In his mind, he saw himself making friends with it. He'd say calm words and get the dog to trust him. But the dog didn't growl at him. It couldn't growl, because it wasn't there. No reason for it to be here, Larry thought. Strays wandered. And there was no reason he should be looking for the dog. He absolutely couldn't take care of another stray, no matter how much it needed a home. But Larry was still bothered that it had growled at him. Dogs never did that.

A voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, are you going to play ball or just wander around town?" Larry turned away from the alley. "Sure, I'm going to play," he told Carlos. "I was on my way there." "Then let's go." Larry walked to the park with Carlos. They reached the ball field just as everyone was getting ready to choose up sides for a new game. Despite his worries, Larry managed to enjoy himself. The warmth of the sun on his face and the smell of his leather glove were a wonderful combination. He decided he wasn't going to let anything spoil his day. This time when Adam hit a high fly, Larry caught it without any trouble. On Larry's first turn at bat, he hit two fouls and took three balls. With a full count, he watched the pitcher. He knew that Steffi Shimoto almost always threw a high one over the middle on a full count. That was great, because Larry liked them a little high. Steffi went into her windup. The ball hurtled toward the plate, zooming in at just the right height to be blasted over the fence. Perfect, Larry thought, already seeing the home run in his mind. You're going on a trip. He stepped into his swing, eager to hear the solid crack that meant the ball was headed for orbit. A frightened shout came from his left. "Larry! Lar-r-r-r-ry!"