Buster Caleb Huett (bearly read books .TXT) 📖

The old woman turned to go inside, then abruptly spun around and whispered to Mr. Pulaski, “Did you get what I asked for?”

“I did! Yep! It’s all in there.”

“Good.” She smiled at Tonio again. “Good night!”

On our way back through the garden gnomes, Tonio had to ask. “What was in there?”

Mr. Pulaski shook his head somberly. “You don’t want to know.”

Most of the deliveries were like that—Mr. Pulaski led us to places like Dr. Lozada’s house, which was locally famous because a tree was growing inside it, right through her living room and out the roof. (“She never cut it down because it started growing after her grandfather passed away,” Mr. Pulaski explained. “So it’s special to her. A bunch of folks—your grandparents included—chipped in to help fix up the house so it wouldn’t fall over, back when I was a kid.”)

We stopped by the Coats’ house, and all eight of their young kids (five were quintuplets!) ran out at once to barrage Tonio with questions and tug on my tail. We met the Farnell family—Mr. Farnell was one of Tonio’s art teachers in elementary school. He asked if Tonio was still drawing, and said he was one of the best students he’d ever had—even though, I knew now, Tonio wasn’t showing his teachers everything.

“Did you hear that?” Mr. Pulaski asked.

“He was just being nice,” Tonio mumbled, but he was smiling.

Tonio started out nervous, but by the time we were on our eighth or ninth delivery, he’d relaxed. This was easy work, and nobody expected much from him except to pull the wagon. Plus, his dad seemed so happy—it was a good time for them.

Somewhere between Mr. Farnell and Cheryl Barger, the owner of Nice Slice Pizza, I noticed we were being followed. A medium-sized dog with a dark brown coat and beige splotches was trying to look casual as he kept pace with us across the street, and a tiny gray dog with a long body like a dachshund but a much fluffier coat was tailing us from about fifteen feet behind, never any closer or farther.

The officers, I realized. Sergeant and Grizzle. While Tonio and Mr. Pulaski laughed and talked, I twisted my ears and focused my attention away from them. Officer Sergeant was growling, just a little, under her breath. Quieter than a human would hear, but enough for my ears. It wasn’t an aggressive growl—she was asking if it was safe to approach.

I huffed out a tiny cough-bark. What’s going on?

Three small barks and a whine. Can we ask you a few questions?

I kept my tail up and my posture confident, but my stomach did a flip. Could they have heard, somehow, that Tonio was onto me? Were they here to take me away? I didn’t have a choice: I huffed okay. The splotchy dog trotted across the street, and the fluffy one bounded extra hard to catch up to us.

“Oh, hello. Strays?” Tonio asked. Mr. Pulaski shook his head.

“No, they’ve got collars. And they’re fine—lots of people let their dogs out around here, ’cause it’s not a busy neighborhood.”

“Is it okay if I let Buster say hello?” Tonio asked. “He’s probably bored of just paying attention to me all day, and you’re here.” Mr. Pulaski considered, said sure, and Tonio leaned down to unclip my collar. I fell in step with the officers.

“Sorry for surprising you like this,” Sergeant said. “We’ve been hearing some things lately that are making us a little nervous, and just want to check if you know anything.”

Phew, I thought. So this probably isn’t about me. I couldn’t let my guard down completely, though, in case this was some kind of tactic to make me relax.

“Sure,” I huffed. “How can I help?”

Officer Grizzle took over. His voice was very high and tiny, but the energy behind it made him sound a lot more serious than Officer Sergeant. “From what we understand, your human has been spending time with the human Mia Lin. Is that true?”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

The little dog bobbed his head affirmatively. “And from what we understand, she often has a puppy with her, correct? A tricolor collie who goes by Mozart Lin.”

“Yeah, that’s also true.” I tilted my head and twisted my tail into a question. “What’s this about?”

“We’re asking the questions here, citizen!” Grizzle snapped. Sergeant lowered her nose apologetically. “Have you seen Mozart engaging in any Bad Dog behaviors, such as: performing tricks without being taught them, responding directly to human language as if he understands, or otherwise suggesting intelligence to his human or other humans?”

The officers were right to be investigating, but I still didn’t want to get Mozart and Mia in trouble. He was so young!

“I don’t think so.” I said. “He’s just acted like a puppy around me.”

“TELL THE TRUTH!” Grizzle barked.

Tonio glanced back at us. “Are y’all okay?”

Sergeant bopped Grizzle on the nose. “Calm down. You’ll blow our cover.” We trotted along quietly until Tonio stopped paying attention. Sergeant spoke again: “Since you two are friends, if he—”

“We’re not really friends,” I argued, “and he doesn’t listen to me!”

“Yeah, but you’ve been through it. You know how serious this is. Try to get that across to him, okay? So we don’t have to.” Sergeant stopped walking, and Grizzle stopped a few steps after that.

“What happens if I can’t stop him?” I called back. Sergeant looked uncomfortable, but Grizzle yipped ominously.

“We’ll protect Dogkind however we have to.”

Tonio patted his leg and jingled my leash. “Come, Buster. We’re going back on some busy streets.”

The sun really was going down when they delivered their last bag of groceries, so Tonio was sort of right. Evening smells and sounds settled over Bellville, from the smoke of dinner grilling in backyards to the buzzing of the town’s few streetlamps switching on around the neighborhood. Tonio was relaxing—the job was done, and a good distraction from his worries about Devon and Mia—but his father was acting