Sorta Like a Rock Star by Matthew Quick

Author:Matthew Quick [Quick, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Juvenile Fiction, Social Issues, Death & Dying, Family, Girls & Women, Homelessness & Poverty
ISBN: 9780316043533
Google: -_E4cgAACAAJ
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2011-05-02T22:00:00+00:00

I found a doggie

In a designer shoebox

He was very sad

(I actually sent that haiku to Private Jackson but got no response.)

What you don’t know is that BBB was all traumatized from his stint on the streets, living in a bright designer shoebox, and after I rescued him from the clutches of starvation, B Thrice was very sad for a time, even after we got him back up to his fighting weight.

I used to sing to BBB, give him extra spoonfuls of peanut butter, bathe him in Donna’s tub, give him full body rubdowns, read him happy books, and I even made him a dapper coat. Donna bought him all sorts of toys and gourmet doggie food and Phillies dishes, but nothing seemed to cheer him up. I just couldn’t figure out what would make BBB happy.

Then I saw these two goth kids making out hard-core in the A-building stairwell of our high school—they looked so happy and in love when they paused the spit-swapping and let me pass through, and for some reason right then and there I knew I needed to get Bobby Big Boy a girlfriend.

When I thought about the size and weight of BBB’s perfect companion, Ms. Jenny came to mind, so I took B Thrice to the baseball diamond at five o’clock and introduced him to Private Jackson and Ms. Jenny.

We arrived when Ms. Jenny was already off the leash and doing laps, so she didn’t notice us at first.

“Who’s this?” Private Jackson asked, saying nothing about all the haikus I had sent him, which bummed me out a little.

“This is Bobby Big Boy.”

Private Jackson bent down and patted BBB on the head. “Where did you get him?”

“I found him on the street in a shoe box,” I said, wondering whether PJ had not received and read any of the haikus I had sent him about BBB.

“You rescued him,” PJ said.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s good karma.”

That’s when Ms. Jenny saw Bobby Big Boy and Cupid’s arrow stuck. She came tearing ass off the baseball field and began sniffing BBB’s butt. I had him on the leash, so he started crying.

“Let him off the leash,” PJ said.

“What if they fight?”

“They won’t. Ms. Jenny’s a lover.”

So I let BBB off the leash and the two little dogs began to wrestle and run around in circles and roll all about for at least a half hour as PJ and I just watched and smiled.

“This is the happiest I’ve seen B Thrice since I picked him up off the streets,” I told Private Jackson.

“I think Ms. Jenny is in love,” PJ said to me.

And then we both agreed that for the sake of our dogs’ happiness, we would meet at the field at least once a week, for doggie playtime.

But when it was time to say goodbye, I couldn’t help asking whether PJ liked the doggie haikus I had been sending him.

“Ms. Jenny will be looking forward to seeing Bobby Big Boy again,” PJ said. He leashed Ms. Jenny and walked away.

I was pretty proud of BBB for not trying to hump Ms.

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