Chewy and Chica (2 page)

The Petersons planned to leave Buddy with Charles and Lizzie’s aunt Amanda, who ran a doggy day-care center, then drive up to AdventureLand, the coolest amusement park
ever. Charles had looked forward to it all spring. He’d even saved up his allowance for extra ride tickets. He planned to try to set a world record for riding the roller coaster.

Charles looked at the puppies. The brown-and-white one trembled and shivered. Was he cold? He cocked his head and blinked up at Charles.

What’s going on? Who’s going to take care of me? I’m so scared!

“Why is he shaking like that?” Sammy asked.

“Chihuahuas are known for shivering and trembling,” Lizzie said right away. But Charles could tell she didn’t know why.

“They shiver for all sorts of reasons,” explained Ms. Dobbins. She tucked the puppy in closer to her chest. “Sometimes they tremble because they’re excited, and sometimes because they’re scared. They also get cold very, very easily,
because their coats are so short. It’s up to the owner to figure out why they’re shivering and help make them feel better.”

“Kind of like when the Bean was a baby and he’d cry and cry and we had to figure out if it was because he was hungry or had a wet diaper or if maybe something was hurting him?” Charles asked.

“Exactly,” said Ms. Dobbins. “In this case, I think maybe our little boy here was feeling insecure. See how he stopped shaking when I held him closer?”

Sure enough, the puppy’s body was still now. He gazed up at Charles with his big, bulgy brown eyes.

Ms. Dobbins raised her eyebrows. “Well, now that you’ve had your first lesson in Chihuahuas, what do you think?” she asked. “If you can’t take them, I’ll have to start making some calls. But it won’t be easy to find someone who can foster both puppies.”

Charles took a deep breath. He would hate to see those two puppies go to two different homes. He could tell by the way they snuggled up together that they loved each other. “Lizzie is right. Forget about our trip. These puppies need us. We’ll take them.”

Mom gave him a look — the kind of look that meant, “Hold on there, buddy! You’re not the family decider.”

Oops
. “I mean . . . can we please, please, please foster these puppies?” asked Charles.

“I should at least call your dad. . . .” Mom began.

“He’ll say yes; you know he will.” Charles knew that his dad would agree. For one thing, Dad loved puppies. For another, he didn’t even like amusement parks. He always said roller coasters made him feel “oogy.” He would probably be happy if he didn’t have to drive all the way up to AdventureLand.

Mom took another look at the puppies in Ms.
Dobbins’s arms. She sighed. “Ordinarily, I would say no. Two puppies — when we already have Buddy at home — it just seems like too much. But now that I know about puppy mills, I know these puppies have had such a hard beginning. They really need our help, don’t they?”

Ms. Dobbins nodded. “They really do.” The two puppies in her hands squirmed until they were all smushed up together. The brown-and-white puppy gnawed on his sister’s tiny ear while the black-and-white one put a miniature paw on her brother’s teensy nose. Charles wondered how anything could be so
small
.

“Awww,” said Mom. “How can I resist? We’ll take them.”

“All right!” Charles reached out for the pups.

“Wow! They’re so light!” he said when Ms. Dobbins handed them over. The puppies hardly weighed a thing. It was like holding two butterflies. He looked down at them. Two sets of huge brown eyes blinked back up at him. He
leaned over to kiss the puppies. The brown-and-white one chewed on his chin while the black-and-white one licked him gently. Both of them scrabbled at his face with their tiny paws.

Hello! Hello! Hello!

Want to be my friend? Please?

“These puppies might be a real handful,” Ms. Dobbins warned. “Chihuahuas are not the easiest dogs to train.”

Charles hardly listened. He stared down at the adorable puppies in his arms.

“Also, Chihuahuas are very delicate, because they are so small. They can get hurt easily. You have to really keep an eye on them so they don’t get stepped on, or fall and hurt their heads.” Ms. Dobbins paused. “And you might want to keep them separate from Buddy, and from the Bean, at least in the beginning. Chihuahuas
don’t always get along so well with other dogs or small children.”

“We’re always careful about that with our new foster puppies,” said Mom.

“I know,” said Ms. Dobbins. “Why am I fussing? You Petersons are the best foster family I’ve ever had. Have a great time, and call me if you have any problems.” She waved as she headed back into the shelter to look after the other puppies.

A moment later, Andrew popped back out. “Ms. Dobbins thought you might need extra stuff, with two puppies to care for,” he said. He gave Mom two tiny collars and two leashes.

Lizzie came over to Charles. “Don’t I get to hold one of the puppies?”

“That’s a good idea,” said Mom. “Each of you should take one and hold it very carefully as we drive home, since we don’t have our puppy crate in the back of the van today.”

Charles looked down again at the puppies in
his arms. He hated to let one of them go, even for a minute. The brown-and-white one chewed on the black-and-white one’s tiny tail, which made the black-and-white one squeak. They were so cute he could hardly stand it. Should he give Lizzie the brown-and-white boy or the black-and-white girl? While he thought about it, the brown-and-white puppy reached up its paw and touched him gently on the chin. Charles felt his heart melt. He handed the black-and-white puppy to Lizzie.

Immediately, both puppies started to yip and whine.

Wait! Where are you taking my brother?

Come back! Come back! What are you doing with my sister?

The brown-and-white puppy squirmed and struggled, trying to get out of Charles’s grasp. He
nipped at Charles’s fingers —
hard
. His teeth might be tiny, but they were as sharp as needles. It really hurt, but Charles did not want to yell at the poor puppy. “Hold on there, cutie,” he said. “Your sister’s not going anywhere. Don’t worry.”

He and Lizzie got into the van, still holding the squirmy puppies, and Mom helped them buckle in next to each other in the backseat. The puppies calmed down as soon as they could see each other. Charles and Lizzie put on their collars and snapped on their leashes. “I guess Ms. Dobbins was right,” said Mom. “These two really do like to be together.”

By the time Mom got into the driver’s seat and started the van, Charles’s puppy had begun to gnaw on his own leash. “You’re a little chewer, aren’t you?” Charles asked as he carefully untangled the leash from the puppy’s sharp teeth. Charles could not believe how big and shiny the puppy’s eyes were. He looked so innocent as he blinked up at Charles.

Did I do something wrong?

“Wait!” Charles sat up straight in his seat as Mom drove down the road. “We forgot to ask what their names are.”

Lizzie looked down at the puppy in her own arms. “I’m sure they don’t have any names, since they came from a puppy mill. But Ms. Dobbins always says we can give our foster puppies temporary names.”

Charles thought for a second. He loved to name puppies. Maybe since there were two of them, they should have matching names. “How about Ping and Pong?”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. They’re dogs, not white plastic balls.”

Charles thought some more. “Pip and Squeak? ‘Cause they’re so little?”

“That’s cute,” Mom said from the front seat.

But Lizzie shook her head. “We can think of something better,” she said. “Anyway, let’s get to
know them first. Then we can find names that fit their personalities.”

Charles stroked his puppy’s tiny ears. “These puppies are so cute. I bet we’ll find them forever homes really soon.”

“I hope you’re right, Charles,” said Mom as she pulled into the driveway at home. “We really have our work cut out for us. These two plus Buddy equals a whole lot of puppies.”

As Mom parked the van, Lizzie looked down at the tiny black-and-white puppy in her lap and shook her head. She still couldn’t believe what had just happened back there at the shelter. For years and years and
years
she had begged her parents to let her have a puppy. It had taken her forever to convince them to be a foster family for puppies, and
twice
forever before the Petersons got a dog of their very own. Now pretty much all Charles had had to do was say, “Please?” and Mom had agreed to take two at once. At first, Lizzie was steamed. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t — wait! Lizzie stopped herself before she said a single word out loud. Was she crazy?

No matter how it had happened, the fact was that her family was going to be fostering these two tiny puppies. That was
good
news. Even though Lizzie was usually more of a big-dog person, the truth was that she loved all puppies. And she could already tell that these two mini-pups were going to be maxi-fun.

The puppies started to yip and yelp as soon as the van door opened. “They know they’re home,” said Lizzie. As soon as they got out of the van, Lizzie’s puppy pulled her right over to the bushes by the side of the driveway. “Look, she even knows where to pee.” Lizzie bent down to pet her puppy. “What a good puppy. Who’s a good, good girl?”

Charles’s puppy peed, too.

Then they led the dogs up the walk. When Mom opened the front door, there was the Bean to welcome them home. “Uppy!” the Bean yelled. Next to him, Buddy jumped up and down, barking at the puppies.

“Oh, no.” Lizzie tried to hold her puppy back, but the tiny black-and-white girl ran straight at Buddy. So did her brown-and-white brother. Their leashes tangled around Buddy’s legs as they dashed back and forth beneath him. Buddy looked enormous next to the tiny puppies. The black-and-white puppy yipped and yapped while the brown-and-white boy chomped at Buddy’s ankles. Buddy had stopped barking. Now he looked up at Lizzie with a pleading expression.

Help! Who are these ridiculous little insects, and why did you bring them here?

Mom had scooped up the Bean right away. “No uppies for the Bean,” she told him. “These uppies need to be left alone. Charles and Lizzie will take care of them, okay?”

“Uppy!” the Bean wailed and reached out both arms.

“What is going
on
here?” Dad came into the hallway, drying his hands on a dish towel. “What’s all that yapping?”

Lizzie grinned. “We have two new puppies to foster!”

“I can see that.” Dad smiled down at the wild puppy pile at his feet. “And hear it.” The black-and-white puppy was still yipping and yapping her head off. “Quiet down, you! What breed are they?” he asked.

“They’re Chihuahuas,” Lizzie told him. She kissed her puppy. “Did you know that the Chihuahua breed originally comes from the state of Chihuahua, in Mexico?” She had just remembered that fact from her poster. “Aren’t they cute?”

“They’re adorable.” Dad stepped back. “Except for the barking. But what about our trip?”

“We decided we’d rather foster these puppies. Charles didn’t think you’d mind,” Lizzie said.

Dad scratched his head. “Well, I guess that’s true. I’ve got plenty to do around here. But . . .
two
puppies? Plus Buddy? How will we manage?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Mom. “We’ll all help, but I think the best way is for Charles and Lizzie to each be in charge of one puppy. They’ll have to be sure that their puppy gets fed, and trained, and taken outside to do its business.”

“I want uppy, too.” The Bean pouted and stuck his thumb into his mouth.

“How about if we put you in charge of Buddy?” Mom asked. She winked at Lizzie and Charles. They all knew Buddy was so well behaved that he didn’t really need anyone in charge, but it would make the Bean happy to think he had a job. Sure enough, the Bean loved the idea. He laughed and waved at Buddy from Mom’s arms.

“I in charge of you, Buddy. Sit!”

Obligingly, Buddy sat. The Bean laughed again. Mom put him down, and he and Buddy raced off toward the kitchen. Buddy’s tail wagged madly as he ran. He loved the Bean, and he was obviously happy to get away from the puppies.

Lizzie had been thinking. She liked the idea of being in charge of one of the puppies, and she was already in love with the black-and-white puppy in her arms. “I want this one,” she said. “And I’m going to call her Chica. That’s Spanish for ‘girl.’”

Charles hugged the brown-and-white puppy. “This one’s mine, then. And I already thought of a name for him, too. Chewy. Because he’s always biting and chewing.”

“And can we each also be in charge of finding our puppy its forever home?” Lizzie asked. “Because I’ll bet it’ll be easy to find a home for Chica.” She kissed the black-and-white puppy’s head again. The puppy was still yipping, but she stopped for a moment and kissed Lizzie back. “As
soon as I teach her not to bark so much, that is.” She set the puppy down on the floor.

“I bet I can find Chewy a home first,” said Charles.

“Oh, you do, do you?” Lizzie asked.

“Yeah!” Charles nodded. “I do.”

“Fine,” said Lizzie. “Then let’s make it a real bet. First one to find their puppy a home doesn’t have to —” She stopped to think for a second. What chore did she dislike most? “Set the table for a whole month,” she finished.

“Or clear it, either!” said Charles. “You’re on.” He stuck out a hand and they shook on it, with Mom and Dad for witnesses.

Ha! Lizzie knew she’d win this bet, no problem. She could already tell that Chewy had a real biting problem. That had to be fixed before anyone would adopt him, and Charles wouldn’t have a clue how to do it. Meanwhile, so what if Chica was kind of yappy? Lizzie had trained other dogs not to bark, like Cody, the wild
Dalmatian puppy the Petersons had fostered. And as soon as Chica quieted down, she’d be very, very adoptable. Who wouldn’t want this energetic cutie?

Charles looked down at the floor. “Oops.” He pointed. “Looks like Chica had an accident.”

“Oh, dear,” said Mom.

Dad frowned.