Bailey's Story Read Online Free PDF

one praised me for finding out where those clothes had been hiding.
    Why were they in such grumpy moods? I couldn’t be grumpy at all. I stayed close to Ethan and kept my tail flashing back and forth. I gave him a lick whenever I could.
    â€œDog door,” the boy said crossly. But he seemed to have forgotten how to play the game, because he didn’t push me out and he didn’t give me any treats. I was beginning to think that “dog door” meant the same thing as “bad dog.” What a disappointment! I was quite sure I hadn’t been a bad dog at all. I hoped Mom and Ethan would cheer up soon.
    It had been a very upsetting day, but I was willing to put the whole thing behind me. It seemed that the humans didn’t feel the same way, though, because as soon as Dad came home, there was a lot of talking and even a little yelling, and I could feel that Dad was angry at me. I snuck into the living room to stay out of his way. Smokey sat on a windowsill and sneered at me.
    Dad and the boy left right after dinner. Mom sat at the table and stared at papers. She didn’t move even when I came up to her and put a nice wet ball right in her lap, inviting her to play. “Oh, yuck, Bailey,” she said.
    When the boy and Dad came home, Ethan called me into the garage and showed me a big wooden box. I sniffed it, smelling new wood and fresh paint. Not my favorite smells.
    It seemed that Ethan had come up with a new trick to show me. “Doghouse!” he called, and he climbed inside the house. Of course I climbed in right after him. There was a thin pad on the floor for us to lie on. The space was hot and tight with the two of us in there, but I didn’t really mind. I’d been apart from my boy so long; it was good to be close to him now. I licked his hair.
    â€œDoghouse, Bailey. This is your doghouse,” he said.
    Then he crawled back out and got some dog biscuits, which of course made the whole game even better. “Doghouse” apparently meant “crawl into the doghouse with Ethan and eat a biscuit.” We practiced Dog Door, too, properly this time, with Ethan pushing on my rear end until I went through the door and handing me a biscuit afterward.
    While we did all this, Dad moved around the garage, putting things up on high shelves and tying a rope over the top of the big metal container.
    When the boy got tired of tricks, we went inside and wrestled for a while. “Time for bed,” Mom said.
    â€œOh, Mom, please? Can I stay up?”
    â€œWe both have school tomorrow, Ethan. Time for you to say good night to Bailey.”
    Mom and Dad and Ethan were always making words like this at each other, and I rarely paid too much attention. This time I did lift up my head when I heard my name. All of a sudden, the boy seemed sad. His shoulders slumped.
    â€œOkay, Bailey,” he said, but there was no happiness in his voice. I looked up at him and tilted my head, puzzled. “Time for bed.”
    I trotted over to the foot of the stairs. But for some reason, Ethan walked over to the garage door. Maybe he wanted to play Doghouse once more before we settled down? That was okay with me, as long as there’d be a biscuit involved.
    Once I’d followed Ethan out into the garage, I figured I’d been right. “Doghouse,” he said, but his voice was glum. I walked over to the doghouse and then paused and looked back at Ethan. Wasn’t he getting in with me? Had he forgotten how to play?
    Ethan actually walked back inside the house and shut the door on me again !
    I barked, trying to get his attention, trying to make him see he’d made another mistake. Or was it a mistake? Did they really think I’d been a bad dog? They couldn’t! Was it because I’d peed and pooped in the garage? But no one had been here to let me out! Was it because I’d chewed up my dog bed? But I never slept in the thing, anyway. It was just for show.
    Did they