Baxter by Ellen Miles Page B

down to rub his floppy ears and kiss his sweet black nose. His soft curls reminded her of Noodle, a golden doodle puppy (half poodle, half golden retriever) her family had fostered. Lizzie had fallen hard for Noodle and he had not been easy to give up. Was Baxter part poodle, also?
    “What breed are you, cutie?” Lizzie pictured the “Dog Breeds of the World” poster hanging in her room at home. Which dog looked most like Baxter?
    Aunt Amanda started to say something, but Lizzie stopped her. “Wait,” she said. She held up her hand. “Don’t tell me. I bet I can guess.”

CHAPTER TWO
    “Is he a Portuguese water dog?” Lizzie asked.
    Aunt Amanda burst out laughing. “Amazing! You have really studied up on your dog breeds. You’re never wrong.” She bent down to pet Baxter. “Yes, Baxter here is a Portie, or a PWD, as some people call them.”
    “I’ve heard of them,” said Katana, “but I’ve never met one before.”
    “They’re incredible dogs,” said Lizzie. Now she remembered everything she had read about the breed. “Did you know they were originally bred to help Portuguese fishermen herd fish — the way a border collie herds sheep? They would swim into the ocean and chase fish right into thefishermen’s nets. These dogs
love
water and they are amazing swimmers.”
    “Baxter is only six months old,” said Aunt Amanda. “He hasn’t had the chance to try swimming yet, but he does love water. According to Elaina, his owner, he’s fascinated by it. He’s always staring at his water dish, and patting at the water with his paw.”
    Gently, Lizzie took one of Baxter’s white paws and spread the toes apart. “He’ll be a great swimmer when he does get the chance. Look, he has webbed feet, like a duck. Labrador retrievers have that, too. It helps them swim.”
    “Fascinating,” said Katana. “All very fascinating. But — ahem —” She checked her watch. “Maybe we should finish up?”
    “Of course,” said Aunt Amanda. “Come on, Baxter.” She tugged on Baxter’s leash, and the curly-haired puppy trotted willingly along with her over to the X on the floor. Aunt Amanda got him to sit and told him to stay — but as soon asshe took two steps away, Baxter jumped up and followed her, whining softly.
    Wait! Don’t leave me.
    Lizzie noticed the way Baxter wagged his tail: down low, with little side-to-side movements. That was not a happy tail wag. Baxter was nervous about something.
    Aunt Amanda tried again, and again, and once more. But every time, Baxter jumped up before she got more than a few steps away. Aunt Amanda sighed. “This doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “Baxter has a little problem called separation anxiety.”
    “Oh, poor Baxter,” said Katana. “That can be so hard. It’s when dogs can’t stand to be alone, right? My friend’s Doberman was like that. He wanted to be with his owners, or with
somebody,
all the time.”
    “Exactly,” said Aunt Amanda. “That’s whyElaina has been bringing Baxter here to Bowser’s Backyard. Every time she tried to leave him home alone, he barked and whined and then chewed and destroyed everything in her apartment. The neighbors complained, and she knew he was miserable, so she ended up bringing him here. He’s so much happier around other dogs and people.”
    “How do dogs
get
separation anx — whatever it is?” Lizzie asked. “And how can you fix it?”
    “Anxiety. That just means nervousness, or fear,” said Aunt Amanda. “Nobody really knows why dogs get it. Maybe Baxter had some kind of bad experience when he was alone one time, like a noisy thunderstorm that scared him. As for whether it can be cured, do you remember my friend Eileen, the animal behaviorist?”
    Lizzie nodded. Eileen was great. She had helped a lot when the Petersons had fostered a boxer puppy named Jack, who had loved to eat anything and everything.
    “Well, she has been working with Baxter and Elaina, and she thinks there’s hope for him as long