Dawn of the Jed Read Online Free PDF Page B

sized, maybe forty pounds. We were about one hundred and fifty feet away so I couldn’t really tell anything else.
    The selfish Jed kicked in right away.
    “Mom and Dad said I couldn’t get a dog,” I said. “But they didn’t say anything about a dog following me home.”
    I took a few steps, but Luke remained rooted where he was. “Not a good idea, Jed,” he said. “It’s not about getting a dog. It’s about having a dog.”
    I couldn’t believe what my best friend was saying. “I thought you were behind me on this?”
    “I am. Of course. But that dog could belong to someone. Even if it doesn’t, it deserves a home where everyone wants it and will take care of it. Right now, only thirty-three percent of the Rivers’ household wants a dog.”
    “Nice math skills.”
    “Thanks.”
    “But it still doesn’t change my mind.”
    I took off toward the dog. Maybe I could carry it, sneak it into our yard, and leave the gate open just a crack. I’d go in the front door, make small talk with Mom and Dad, and walk by the patio door. Wait, what’s this? A dog in the back yard? I must investigate. Why, he must have snuck through the side gate, see how it’s open? He seems to be so friendly. Mom and Dad, you must come out here and fall in love at first sight. Keep him? Really? Of course.
    All I had to do was catch him.
    As I got closer, his features became a bit clearer. Forty pounds at most. Medium-haired, cream-colored coat but with puffs of gray, like a leafy shadow. Pointy ears, one up, the other bent in half. Longish tail curled upward slightly, but not wagging. I was fifteen feet from him when he lowered his head. He took a step back. Another.
    I took a step forward. Another.
    A few more details came through. His short, roundish muzzle featured a gray streak of fur that cruised right between his eyes before making a slow left turn, giving him an eyebrow. The hair along his sides was thick and matted, stitched together with leaves and twigs. And the smell—let’s just say if there was a Febreze for dogs, I’d need ten cans of Lilac Meadow just to keep the comic-book stink lines down to a minimum.
    “Good boy, everything’s OK, I just want to say hi.” I assumed he was a boy, but at this point it was a mystery.
    He didn’t have a collar. So much for Luke’s theory that he (she?) belonged to someone.
    He backed up again, his tail against the brick wall. There was about a six-inch gap between the bushes, just enough so that if I moved quickly enough, I could snatch his front legs and scoop him up.
    I leaned and put my hand out, palm down, just like the K9 officer showed us in third grade. “Want to sniff, check me out? Here, no harm meant.”
    Another step.
    “Dude, you need to back off, you are scaring him to death.”
    Where did Luke come from? I turned my head briefly, noticed Luke about ten feet behind me, and went back to the dog, which hadn’t moved.
    “I could use some help then,” I said. “See how he’s facing left? Go that way. I’ll go straight in. If we flush him, he’ll head right to you.”
    “Maybe we should call someone.”
    “Really? He has no collar. He’ll go to the pound, you know what’s going to happen then.”
    I knew Luke was thinking about it. He liked dogs almost as much as I did. He’d do the right thing.
    “I’ll help, but only because he’s not safe running around here.”
    I pointed left, and Luke took his position. The dog didn’t move. This was going to be easy. And I noticed just how cute he was. Not a puppy, but not very old. Thin, but not starving.
    “On three, I’m going to go in after him,” I said. “If he runs, he’ll be coming right at you. Set?”
    “Yeah.”
    “One. Two. Three.”
    I ducked and went in fast, shooting my arms out, expecting to hit muscle and fur.
    But he was gone. All I saw was a flash of gray. He’d run right past me. Luke never even had a shot.
    I backed out of the bushes and whipped around. There, dashing over a berm