Smells Like Dog Read Online Free PDF Page B

on boxers and jeans in the Husky Boys’ section.
    “And don’t you worry,” Mrs. Pudding said. “Squeak and I will take good care of your dog. Now hurry and catch up with your sister.”
    “Bye, Homer,” Squeak said. Still in his pajamas, he held his mother’s hand, longing for the day when he would also walk to school.
    The goats, lazily chewing tender blades of spring grass, watched from the field as Homer and Gwendolyn started down Grinning Goat Road. “I don’t care how many times he says it, I ain’t never gonna be a goat farmer. Not in a million years.” The morning breezeblew her bangs, exposing a forehead creased by years of serious thought. “I’m way too smart to be stepping in goat poop all day. And as soon as I get a job at the Museum of Natural History, I ain’t never eating goat yogurt again. Even if they serve it in the museum’s cafeteria, I ain’t eating it. I ain’t even gonna look at another goat, unless it’s dead and stuffed.”
    Homer wasn’t listening because he was reading the coin book.
    Homer always walked to school with a map or book in front of his face. It takes great skill to walk while reading. If you think it’s easy, go ahead and give it a try. You’ll probably fall into a hole, or step on a rake, or tumble off a cliff or something. But Homer could go anywhere while reading. He could cross any terrain without injury—as if his shoes had grown eyeballs.
    Because Homer was scanning the pages, searching for a coin with a treasure chest on one side, and the letters
L.O.S.T.
on the other side, he didn’t notice that bluebells had sprouted along the road, or that the lilac hedges were in bloom. Or that a lone cloud hovered directly overhead.
    “That’s a weird-looking cloud,” Gwendolyn said.
    Homer didn’t care about clouds. He had sixty-four more pages to read. His uncle had made sure the mysterious coin was safely delivered so it was Homer’s obligation… no… it was his
honor
to figure out why.
    “Stop mumbling to yourself, Homer. Here comes Carlotta and you’re gonna embarrass me.”
    Homer peered over the top of his book as Carlotta Crescent ran down her driveway. She was the same age as Gwendolyn and the girls always walked to school together. Two border collies followed at Carlotta’s heels. “Hi, Gwendolyn. Hi, Homer,” she called.
    “Hi, Carlotta,” Gwendolyn said.
    Carlotta gave her dogs a pat, then sent them back up the driveway. Her yellow plaid skirt reminded Homer of a picnic tablecloth. When she smiled at him, his legs turned to stone. She was the prettiest girl in school and he never knew what to say to her. She swung her lunch basket and started walking alongside Gwendolyn.
    “Homer,” Gwendolyn called. “Stop standing there. You’ll be late again.”
    Homer hurried to catch up, his book bag thumping against his hip.
    “We had puppies last night,” Carlotta said.
    Neither Homer nor Gwendolyn bothered to ask what kind of puppies. Carlotta Crescent lived on the Crescent Farm and her family kept border collies, just like every other family in Milkydale. “My border collies are the best herders around,” Mr. Crescent always said. He had even posted a sign at the end of his driveway.
     
CRESCENT GOAT FARM
    Home of the Champion Crescent Border Collies,
    Winners of Five County Fair Blue Ribbons
.
     
    “That’s
his
opinion,” Mr. Pudding had said while nailing a sign at the end of the Pudding driveway.
     
PUDDING GOAT FARM
    Home of the Champion Pudding Border Collies
,
    Winners of Four County Fair Blue Ribbons
.
     
    “Homer got a new dog,” Gwendolyn said. “It’s real ugly.”
    “Oh, that’s too bad.” Carlotta stopped walking and turned to ask Homer a question, but he hurried past. He didn’t mean to be rude but talking to Carlotta was kind of like getting the flu—both made his stomach hurt.
    With the coin book perched in front of his nose, Homer turned onto Peashoot Lane, a narrow dirt road lined with slender white birch