RKPJAM_Jamestown

10.09.2020 Views

16 the rescuer As they traipsed forlornly back to the motel, the kids took turns walking the puppy, petting him, and feeding him dog biscuits from Grant’s pocket. Papa was waiting for them at the door with a grim look on his face. Mimi sat at the desk and would not even look at the children. That made Christina know that it was bad. An older woman sat on the bed. She held a paper sack in one hand and some papers in the other. When she spotted the puppy, she jumped up and grabbed him. “Oh, thank goodness!” she said over and over. “I was so worried about you. Thank heavens you’re safe.” The puppy seemed thrilled to be in the woman’s arms. “You have a nice dog,” said Grant, sadly. 113

The woman smiled at him. “Oh, he’s not my dog. He was someone’s dog, but they left him in the marsh near my house. I handle rescue dogs, so I took him in, only he is so energetic”—at this, the puppy bounced from bed to bed as if to prove to everyone just how energetic he was!—“that he got off his leash and disappeared. That must be when you found him on the Parkway.” “So he’s a rescue dog like those dogs that rescue people buried in the snow?” Christina asked, confused. “Oh, no,” said the woman. “He’s a pure bloodhound. The kind of rescue dog I’m talking about is when someone like me finds a dog and rescues him, then tries to find him a good owner.” Christina and Grant beamed. “So could we be his new owners?” they asked together. “If you want to,” said the lady. “You seem like a very nice family. And you did rescue my rescue dog!” she added. “PAPA…MIMI…MIMI…PAPA…PLEASE!…CAN WE?…PLEASE?…WE’LL TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIM! HE LOVES US! WE LOVE HIM!…PLEASE… PLEASE?!” Grant and Christina went on and on. 114

The woman smiled at him. “Oh, he’s not my<br />

dog. He was someone’s dog, but they left him in<br />

the marsh near my house. I handle rescue dogs, so<br />

I took him in, only he is so energetic”—at this, the<br />

puppy bounced from bed to bed as if to prove to<br />

everyone just how energetic he was!—“that he got<br />

off his leash and disappeared. That must be when<br />

you found him on the Parkway.”<br />

“So he’s a rescue dog like those dogs that<br />

rescue people buried in the snow?” Christina<br />

asked, confused.<br />

“Oh, no,” said the woman. “He’s a pure<br />

bloodhound. The kind of rescue dog I’m talking<br />

about is when someone like me finds a dog and<br />

rescues him, then tries to find him a good owner.”<br />

Christina and Grant beamed. “So could we<br />

be his new owners?” they asked together.<br />

“If you want to,” said the lady. “You seem<br />

like a very nice family. And you did rescue my<br />

rescue dog!” she added.<br />

“PAPA…MIMI…MIMI…PAPA…PLEASE!…CAN<br />

WE?…PLEASE?…WE’LL TAKE GOOD CARE OF<br />

HIM! HE LOVES US! WE LOVE HIM!…PLEASE…<br />

PLEASE?!” Grant and Christina went on and on.<br />

114

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