What Would Joey Do? by Jack Gantos

Author:Jack Gantos [Gantos, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780374706494
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2002-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

8

DAY BY DAY

I had left the dogs in the bathroom all night. In the morning I got a piece of clothesline rope and one by one tied them all to me, and when I was finished they looked like a Chihuahua charm bracelet that had fallen off a giant lady. They were yapping and straining in all different directions with their hard nails scratching at the wooden floor while Pablo ran a circle around us and snipped and snapped at them and stirred up trouble. I looked at him and shook my finger back and forth. Pablo had only been with Dad for a short while, but he was already acting just like him—sinking to his level.

“Pablo Pigza!” I shouted above all the noise. “You better straighten up, or you are headed for a timeout.”

He took off through the house barking and yapping as if he were on a tiny circus motorcycle driving crazily between the furniture.

“I’ll deal with you later, young man,” I shouted as he scrambled around a chair. “Right now I’ve got a job to do.” I looped my end of the rope around a doorknob and went into the bathroom. It was a swampy mess. I backed out and went to the kitchen, where I got a roll of paper towels, then returned and wiped everything up. Since we didn’t have air freshener, I sprayed some old cologne around. It was brownish and smelled like rotting leaves, which was perfect since Thanksgiving was just around the corner.

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” I hollered to Grandma. “Anything I can get you while I’m out?” I knew she was still alive because I could see smoke rising above her curtain, and I could hear the dry sound of paper being folded.

“A friend,” she croaked.

“Can I get back to you on that?” I hollered, and I opened our front door and all the Chihuahuas went insane and scrambled through and across the porch. I slammed the door, and we went spinning around like the Mad Hatter’s teacups with all of them tipping over and falling down the stairs and me behind them. Once we hit the sidewalk, I took off running, and they took off after me. I sang out, “Rolling, rolling, rolling! Keep them doggies rolling, rawww-hide!” And they rolled along—tripping, tumbling, yapping like a band of scuffed-up mariachis.

When I arrived at the Lapps’ house I rang the doorbell.

Mrs. Lapp answered. “W.W.J.D.?” she chimed as always. Then she looked down at all the dogs and took a step back as if I had a gang of rabid rats with me. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed, and her eyes got very big.

“I have to return these lost dogs to their proper homes,” I replied as quickly as I could. “My dad stole them by mistake, and I’m helping him out.”

“Good idea,” she said, relieved. “Because you can’t bring them all in here.”

“What’s going on?” Olivia shouted from the living room as she marched across the carpet.

“My dad had

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