Dog Named Leaf Read Online Free PDF

the living room. He glanced at me from the corners of his eyes and did another quick inhale with his upturned nose. The depth of his sniffing told me that with each step he cataloged all the rich new scents.
    Linda was concerned that the cats would be indignant and then angry if they didn’t at least get to see their new brother. We knew the importance of gradually introducing a new pet into the home. The older residents have to first become accustomed to the smells and sights of an unfamiliar animal.
    I went downstairs, picked up our seven-pound, black-and-white tuxedo cat Cuddles, and held her in my arms. Raised as a kitten and adopted from the same animal shelter where we’d found Leaf, Cuddles is our self-appointed hostess. When reporters come to the house to interview us about our books, Cuddles wins them over by playfully posing for the camera.
    While Linda held on to Leaf, I stood at a distance and showed him to Cuddles. She reared up her spine and hissed at him. Leaf playfully lunged toward her, and she spat back at him. “Enough of that,” Linda said. “She knows he’s here.”
    I took Cuddles back downstairs and placed her on the soft pillow of her couch. She glared at me. If Cuddles, our friendly cat, had had such a reaction, what would happen with Speedy, our skittish tabby? He was not at all fond of strangers. Still, I thought it was important for Speedy to get his own sniff of the intruder. His green eyes glowered at the bouncing dog. Within seconds I returned Speedy to his basement couch. If it were up to him, I’m sure he’d just as soon never again lay eyes on that dog.
    Linda and I sat on the couch to think about what to do next. I said, “Guess Leaf doesn’t exactly remind the cats of Taylor.” While we talked, Leaf found the picture window that spans the living room wall and overlooks the city sidewalk in front of our house. He hunched down on his back legs. His tiny face landed at exactly the right height for peering over the windowpane. Occasionally his tail wagged as a person walking a dog passed by the house.
    The bird on his perch remained uncharacteristically quiet. If he had yearned for more drama to keep him entertained, his wish had come true. Sunshine’s head bobbed from side to side. He watched Leaf dart from one room to another. Any noise or sound caught the dog’s attention, and he’d run toward it.
    For some reason Leaf’s nervousness and discomfort made my affection for him grow. I assumed that for some period of time, he’d had to take care of himself. He looked like a pup who learned not to rely on others. Yet I sensed that this dog needed me.
    After a few days the cats could come upstairs. They’d go back to their routine of looking out the living room window and lounging on their carpeted kitty condo. We planned to put up a gate we had purchased at the pet store between the hallway and my office. Leaf could stay in onesection of the house, and the cats could get used to his presence without having to be in the same room with him.
    We also bought a large fabric-covered dog crate and a soft dog bed that fit into it. Leaf would have a man cave to call his own. As for crate training, we’d learn more about that careful process later when we bought a book on the subject.
    On the first night of Leaf’s arrival, we thought he might be scared, so we put his crate in our bedroom. That way, he’d be able to hear us breathing and feel comforted. At first he whimpered. Then, as if he was an instrument reaching crescendo pitch, Leaf’s whimper turned into a howl. If anyone doubts that dogs descended from wolves, they’d only need to hear Leaf’s howling to know the truth. One or two blood-curdling wails prompted Linda to wish hopefully, “He’ll stop in a few minutes.” Ten minutes later he was still baying.
    We tried to calm him. I found a night-light and plugged it in, so that its glow warmed the bedroom. Again, we switched off our bedside lamps. The howling