Smells Like Dog Read Online Free PDF Page A

the dog scrambled upright and started digging.
    “Uh-oh,” Homer said, shielding his eyes as dirt flew into his face. “You can’t dig there. That’s right in front of the porch.” Homer had dug plenty of holes over the years in his search for buried treasure and his father had gotten mad plenty of times after stepping in those holes. So digging in the yard was strictly forbidden. Homer stepped back as clumps of dirt pelted his bathrobe. The dog went into a frenzy, digging so fast that Homer had to turn away.
I’m gonna get in big trouble,
he thought. “Cut that out!”
    The digging stopped.
    “Urrrr.”
    The dog dropped something on Homer’s boot. Homer aimed his flashlight and picked the something up. He shook off a clinging earthworm. The something turned out to be a decoder ring that Uncle Drake had given to him on his eighth birthday. Too big for his eight-year-old finger, it had slipped off that very day and hadn’t been seen since. “Neat,” Homer said, delighted by the reunion. Even though he owned a professional decoder ring, purchased with saved allowance money, this one had a secret compartment for chewing gum.
    Eager to see if the ring still worked, Homer quickly filled in the hole. “You’ll just keep howling if I put you in the barn, won’t you?” he asked the dog. “Maybe you can sleep on the porch, just this one time.” He led the dogonto the porch and closed the porch gate. Then he patted the welcome mat. “You sleep here, okay?” The dog sat on the mat, looking up at Homer with those watery eyes. “I’ll come back and check on you.”
    Homer rushed upstairs with the ring. He sat at his desk and wiped the ring clean with his bathrobe belt. Unfortunately, the decoder dial had rusted shut. But even though it no longer worked, he was thrilled to have it. One more thing to remind him of Uncle Drake.
    Homer leaned back in his desk chair and gazed around his room. Thumbtacked maps covered every inch of the four walls and every inch of the ceiling. He’d displayed as many as could fit—the rest were rolled and kept in boxes. The newest map lay open on the desk, beckoning him to study its winding stone passageways and steep golden staircases. Inviting him to journey to a mysterious time when warriors ruled the jungles and sacrificed unlucky intruders to their gods. The warriors were long gone but someday Homer would go to that jungle and search for what they’d left behind.
    But for now he was stuck in Milkydale. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. Tomorrow was a school day. He wouldn’t tell anyone at school about his gold coin. Wilbur, or one of the other boys, would probably try to steal it. Homer went to turn off his light.
    “Urrrr.”
    The new dog, having pushed open the front door, and having followed Homer up the stairs, stood with his paws on the end of Homer’s bed. “What are you doing here?” Homer asked. “You can’t sleep here. Dad won’t let you.” He pointed to the hallway. “You have to go back outside.”
    The dog threw back its head. “HOWOO—”
    “Shhhh.”
    “HOWOO—”
    Homer clamped his hands around the dog’s muzzle. “Okay, okay. You can sleep here. Just be quiet.” He heaved the dog onto the bed. Then he ran downstairs, shut the front door, ran back upstairs and shut his bedroom door. Dirty paw prints covered Homer’s quilt. That dog was going to get him into so much trouble.
    The dog, his eyes now closed, had settled on Homer’s only pillow. “Hey, that’s mine.” Homer tried to pull the pillow away.
    The dog opened one eye. “Grrrr.”
    “Fine.” Homer took off his bathrobe and wadded it into a ball. Then he crawled under the covers and stuck the bathrobe pillow under his head. “Scoot over, will ya?” He tried to push the dog but it was like pushing a boulder. “How am I supposed to sleep if you’re hogging the whole bed?” The dog started snoring. A bit of drool trickled from his droopy lips. “Now I’ll have to wakeup early just so I