Hotel For Dogs by Lois Duncan

came up to her. “She sure was yelling loud. Mom never used to yell that way.”
    “You’d better get over there,” Bruce said. “You did say you’d do the cleanup.”
    “I didn’t say when I’d do it,” Andi said. “At home Mom never minded if we let the dishes sit for a while before we loaded the dishwasher. Why should it matter so much here?”
    “Because it does, that’s all.” Bruce lowered his end of the boards to the ground. “How do you want to do this, Tim?”
    “Simple.” Tim lifted the ends he was holding and leaned them against the window ledge. Side by side, they became a slanted bridge between the window and the ground. “Now comes the tough part — getting Red to walk up it.”
    “I’ll go inside and call him,” Bruce said.
    “That won’t work. He doesn’t come when he’s called. I’ve seen Jerry call him lots of times, and he just cowers and pretends he doesn’t hear.”
    “He’ll come to me,” Bruce said with certainty.
    Walking to the top of the ramp, he turned to face the dog. “Here, Red!” he called softly. “Come up here with me!”
    Without an instant’s hesitation, Red Rover lifted his head from Andi’s lap and got stiffly to his feet. Crossing to the ramp, he staggered up it until he reached Bruce.
    “See!” Bruce’s voice was triumphant as he gently eased the big dog through the window. A moment later both were inside the house.
    “He’s picked you for his master, that’s for sure,” Tim said, when he and Andi had joined Bruce inside. He glanced about with interest. “Where are the rest of your boarders?”
    “In the front bedroom.” Andi darted ahead to lead the way down the hall. “Friday just loves it. It’s so sunny and pretty. Of course, Red is a man’s dog — he’ll like the family room. It’s all wood paneled.”
    Friday’s room, when the door was thrown open, was as much of a surprise to Bruce as it was to Tim. He had not been in it himself since they had settled the dogs in, and though he knew that Andi had been spending all of her free time here, he had not guessed the extent of her activities.
    The room shone! Gone were the dust and the cobwebs that had collected during the long period when the house had stood empty. For a girl who did not like housework, Andi had swept and scrubbed until the floor and woodwork gleamed. The glass of the windows had been cleaned so that the sunlight flooded through, bringing the pink-papered walls to vibrant life.
    But this was not all. A pink throw rug lay across the bare boards of the floor. Pink rosebud curtains hung at the side window. A bed, fashioned from a clothes basket, sat in the corner of the room, and, inside it, a fluffy white dog and three puppies lay,curled in luxurious comfort, on a pillow that said “Bone Sweet Bone.”
    “That’s not Friday!” Bruce exclaimed. “Friday’s brown!”
    “The brown came off,” Andi said. “That was just dirt. I washed her with Snow White Shampoo for Senior Citizens, and now her hair’s the exact same color as Aunt Alice’s.”
    “But this
room!”
Bruce gestured in amazement at the transformation. “Where did you get all the stuff to make it look like this?”
    “Different places.” Andi looked smug. “I found the rug up in Aunt Alice’s attic. It was just lying there, all rolled up in a corner. The basket was down in the basement. It had old magazines in it.”
    “How about the curtains?” Bruce stepped closer to examine them more critically. “This isn’t old cast-off stuff. This is brand-new material. It hasn’t even been hemmed. And that pillow is just like the one Bebe had at home.”
    “Nobody was using the material.” Andi began to look uncomfortable. “It was in the sewing closet. And it
is
Bebe’s pillow. I brought it with me to remember her by. I didn’t think she’d mind my lending it to Friday.”
    “She probably wouldn’t,” Bruce said. “But that material is not yours. Aunt Alice must have bought it for some