Pet Project (Hearts & Crafts #2) by Lisa Papademetriou

Author:Lisa Papademetriou
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

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When I got home from school on Monday, I went and collected Buster from Zane’s place, as usual. Buster usually spends most of his mornings asleep at Zane’s feet as Zane writes in his home office. They go for a walk at lunchtime, and then Zane gets back to work and Bustie goes back to sleep. By the time I get home, Buster is ready to play.

“I need a break,” Zane said as he handed me Buster’s leash. “Were you going to the park?”

“He’s been into chasing the ball lately,” I said, “so I was going to do that in the backyard. I don’t let him off the leash at the park.”

“Mind having some company? I was going to pull a few weeds, anyway.”

Of course I didn’t mind, so we went out to the backyard. Buster had only recently learned fetch and didn’t totally get the idea yet. I would throw the ball and he would chase it and grab it, but then he would run all around the yard like a lunatic, hanging on to it for dear life.

I lunged at Buster to get the ball and he darted away, then did a high-speed lap of the whole yard, ears flapping. Zane had been kneeling, pulling weeds from between his bed of somewhat sad-looking mums, but he stood up to let Buster speed by.

“Isn’t he supposed to let go of the ball?” Zane asked as I raced after Buster, shouting, “Drop it! Drop it, Bustie!”

“He thinks this is part of the game,” I said, panting.

Buster stopped perfectly still, and we squared off. Then I moved toward him and he raced away again.

“Buster, your technique is off,” Zane announced. Buster did another lap, then ran up to Zane and dropped the ball, which rolled toward Zane’s feet. Buster sat obediently and looked up at Zane. Zane turned to me. “What does he want?”

“He wants you to throw it.”

“Buster, go to Mackenzie. She’s the one throwing the ball, not me.” He crouched back to his flowers, and Buster picked up the ball, stepped closer to Zane, and dropped it right on top of a purple mum.

“Uh, it looks like he isn’t going to take no for an answer,” I pointed out.

Wincing, Zane picked up the ball gingerly between his index finger and thumb. “This has dog slobber on it.”

“Buster isn’t a slobbery dog.”

“If you say so.” Zane looked baffled. “What do I do now?”

“You toss it,” I said, making a throwing gesture.

Zane threw the ball. I watched as it sailed over the fence. Buster started after it and then sat, confused.

“Wow, you’re really not a pet guy, are you?” I said.

“I’m not really a sports guy, either,” Zane admitted. “Unless you count watching on TV.”

“Hello?” called a voice, and Buster stood up again, butt wiggling as his tail wagged.

“We’re out back, Mom!” I shouted, and Mom appeared a moment later. She had already kicked off her shoes and untucked her work shirt, and Buster dashed over, jumping up against her legs.

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