How to Steal a Dog by Barbara O'Connor

through the bag in the front seat and pulled out a piece of greasy fried chicken.
    â€œI got a job,” Mama said.
    I took a piece of chicken and pulled the soggy skin off. “Where?” I said, dropping the chicken skin back into the bag.
    â€œThe coffee shop over by the hardware store.” She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. I wondered if she saw the same tired and worried face that I did.
    â€œWell, that’s good,” I said.
    She took a swig out of a soda can. “I guess so,” she said, then pulled the car to the side of the road and stopped.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” I said.
    She shook her head. “I’m just so dern tired of all this,” she said.
    My stomach clumped up in a knot, and I wished I hadn’t eaten that chicken. Why was Mama acting so sad? I needed her to act like everything was okay.
    Nobody said anything after that. We just sat there in that car that was our home. Crammed in with all of our stuff. The smell of the greasy fried chicken hovered in the still air around us.

    Mama broke the silence when she slapped her hands on the steering wheel and said, “Anyway, so now I’ll be at work when y’all get out of school. So come on over to the coffee shop and wait in the car, okay?”
    I ran my dog-stealing plans around inside my head. This would be perfect. The coffee shop wasn’t far from Whitmore Road. I could grab Willy, hide him on the porch of the old house, and then get on back to the car, no problem. Mama wouldn’t even know if me and Toby were there or not.
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    That night, I fingered the string in my pocket and watched Mama helping Toby with his homework. They huddled together in the front seat with the flashlight propped up on the dashboard. Shadows danced around on the ceiling as they worked.
    I pulled out my notebook and turned to How to Steal a Dog . I wrote April 14 , then, beside that:
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    Step 4: Use this list to make sure you are ready to steal a dog.
    1. Are you sure you have found the right dog?
    Yes ___ No ___
    2. Can you open the gate?
    Yes ___ No ___
    3. Do you have some rope or string?
    Yes ___ No ___
    4. Do you have a good place to keep the dog?
    Yes ___ No ___
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    I read through each one and put a checkmark beside Yes every time.
    After the list, I wrote: If you can check “yes” for every one, then you are ready to steal a dog.
    I thumped the pencil eraser against my teeth, then I added:
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    P.S. Remember that you have to wait until nobody is home at the house where the dog lives.
    P.P.S. Don’t forget to take your string, rope, or leash.
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    I closed my notebook and pushed it back down inside my trash bag. And when my guilty conscience started hollering at me, telling me I was doing the wrong thing, I pushed that down, too.
    There was no doubt about it. I really, really was going to steal a dog.

10
    â€œ S hhhh.” I put my finger to my lips and motioned for Toby to stay behind me. We tiptoed along the hedge in front of the big brick house. When we got to the gate, I scanned the street, then whispered to Toby.
    â€œYou be the lookout. If anybody comes outside or a car comes or anything, you whistle like I showed you this morning, okay?”
    Toby nodded.
    I peered over the gate. The front door of the house was closed. I glanced toward the driveway. No car. The yard was empty and quiet.
    â€œHere, Willy,” I called out real soft. Nothing. Maybe he was inside. I wondered if I should go on up to the porch. Probably not. If somebody was home, they were liable to see me.
    â€œMaybe you should whistle,” Toby whispered.
    â€œOkay.” I whistled one time and waited. Sure enough, Willy stuck his head out of that little doggie door. When he saw me, he dashed out the door and up to the gate.

    â€œHey, Willy,” I whispered, sticking my hand through the gate to pet him.
    He stood on his hind legs and put his front paws on the gate. His tail