Dog Days

Pounding The Pavement

The next morning Larry got up early, which was nice because it gave him a chance to have breakfast with his dad. After his dad left for work, Larry walked over to the kitchen window. A hot breeze lifted the curtains and blew against his face. It was going to be a perfect day for baseball. In an hour, everyone he knew would be out at the field, pitching and hitting and running and sliding. But no matter how much he wanted to play ball, Larry wouldn't be there. He headed toward a different part of town. The east side was closer, but there were more stores on the west side, so Larry decided to go there first. With all the shops that lined the streets, he figured someone would have work for him. He didn't care what the job was—just as long as he made enough money to feed his dogs. He tried the barbershop. "Need someone to sweep up?" he asked. "I'm a hard worker."

"No, thank you," the barber said, pointing to the row of empty chairs. "Business is a little slow right now." He tried the pet shop. "Need someone to clean the cages? I'm really good with animals. Especially dogs." "I already have someone doing that," the owner said. "Sorry." Larry tried the hardware store, the music store, two supermarkets, and three restaurants. No one had any work for him. He tried the movie theater, the hat shop, and both pizza places. Still no luck. He even tried a store that sold wedding gowns and another place where he wasn't sure what the people did. By early afternoon Larry had tried nearly all of the shops on the west side of town. Not a single person had a job for him. He needed a break. He'd heard so many people say "no" that he felt he deserved a little fun. Larry decided to get his glove and play some ball. His stomach kept reminding him that it was past lunchtime, so he planned to grab a sandwich, too. Larry cut over to the east side and walked past the alley on his way home. Sure enough, the dog was there again. And sure enough, it growled when he tried to get close. "Nice doggie," Larry said, using his most soothing voice. "Good dog. You're a nice dog, aren't you?" Most dogs came running when he talked like that. Not this dog. It just kept growling.

"Someday," Larry said, "you're going to stop growling at me. You'll see." Larry went home. "Nice doggie," he said to Hobo when he reached the back yard. "Good dog." Hobo licked Larry's face. So did Buck and Duke. "Now that's how a dog's supposed to act," Larry said. He noticed that Paul was watching him from the kitchen window. Larry motioned for his brother to come out, but Paul shook his head. I wish Paul would stop being afraid, Larry thought as he went inside. "We waited for you," his mom said. "Ready for lunch?" "Sure." "Me, too," Paul said. "I was just about starving. I thought you'd never get home." His mom made sandwiches—peanut butter for Paul, chicken salad for herself, and turkey for him. After he ate, Larry grabbed his glove. "Want to come to the field?" he asked Paul. "I thought you didn't like it when I came," Paul said. Larry shook his head. "I don't mind. And at least this way, I won't have to worry about you surprising me in the middle of my swing." Only a couple of kids were at the field when Larry and Paul got there. Paul ran over to the tire swing that hung from a tree behindthe backstop. Larry tossed the ball around with the other kids and waited for enough players to show up for a game. When Mark and Adam arrived, Larry asked them, "Which way did you guys come?" "The usual," Mark said. "Down Washington to Larch. Why?" "I was wondering if you saw a dog in the alley by the bookstore." "Nope," Adam said. "Didn't notice one." "Are you looking for another dog?" Mark asked. "No way. That's the last thing I need." Larry wondered about the dog again. It had been there earlier, but now it was gone. It's just like keeping track of Paul, he thought. Except Paul rarely growled at him. "Hey, Larry," Carlos said as he walked onto the field. "Hi," Larry said, tossing the ball to his friend. Carlos's voice sounded funny. "Is something wrong?" Larry asked. Carlos tossed the ball back, but he didn't look at Larry. "It's just . . ." He shook his head and stared across the field at the road. "Come on," Larry said. "What is it?" "Listen," Carlos said, "I hate to tell you this, but I've got some bad news."