Stinky Stanley by Shelley Swanson Sateren

Author:Shelley Swanson Sateren [Sateren, Shelley Swanson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Picture Window Books; Adventures at Hound Hotel; Shelley Swanson Sateren; Deborah Melmon; Animals/Dogs; Family/Siblings; Readers/Chapter Books; Labrador retrievers; 9781515802211; 9781515802235; 9781515802259
Publisher: Capstone
Published: 2016-07-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 5

Dog of Steel

Stinky Stanley sure didn’t want to come into the kennel room. He slid on his rear end and dug his claws into the floor.

A powerful stink filled the room. The other dogs started to bark like crazy.

“Cool it,” I told the crowd. “Nobody’s getting a fish snack. It’ll smell fresh and clean in here again real soon. Stanley just needs a bath, that’s all.”

Well, the second I said the B word, Stanley howled. He yanked the leash backward, toward the door. Then he started spinning in circles.

The leash tugged Mom forward. She almost fell flat on her face. Stanley got all twisted in the leash.

“Hold on! You’re going to be just fine, Stanley,” Mom said. She untwisted him and pulled him gentle-like toward the washtub.

That was Stanley’s cue to play dead. He rolled over and lay flat on his back. He didn’t move a single muscle. He even closed his eyes.

He looked deader than a dead fish (because fish can’t close their eyeballs).

I leaned over him and opened his left eyelid. “Hey, pal. Nice try, but you can’t fool me. I know you’re alive and kicking. Don’t take it personal, man, but you really stink. Way worse than my feet. I’m almost throwing up, standing this close to you,” I said.

“Listen,” I went on. “We’ll give you a real fast and … uh … real fun b-a-t-h, okay?”

I hated lying to a dog about a bath being fun. But now we only had about eight minutes left!

I turned to Alfreeda. “Look, if we don’t get Stanley smelling like a rose, Ms. Snoot will never bring him back here. I like him, even if he stinks. I want him to keep coming back.”

“Me too,” Alfreeda agreed. “Let’s do this.”

She grabbed Stanley’s left paw. I grabbed his right. Then we started to drag the big guy toward the washtub.

He was super heavy, like a boat full of dead, smelly fish.

Mom helped by pushing his rear end.

It took lots of strength, but we finally reached the tub.

“Yikes,” Alfreeda said, looking at the poodle clock. “Only five minutes left!”

“Okay,” I said. “On the count of three, lift. One … two … THREE!”

With a lot of groaning, we lifted Stanley over the edge of the tub and lowered him toward the water.

“Almost there,” I said.

Suddenly Stanley stuck his legs straight out, real stiff. His paws grabbed the rim of the tub, two on each side.

His leg bones locked into place. Now his body was a bridge over the water. A hairy, super-straight bridge that didn’t sag one bit in the middle.

“Whoa, Stanley’s got super-strong legs,” Alfreeda said.

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