pretended to sleep, because I wasn't sure what a regular outside dog would do."
Amy patted his head to reassure him, "We'll have to ask Sean," she said. "I don't know how most dogs spend their days, either."
"Then," Sherlock continued, "finally he went away, and I thought,
What if he's gone to get Dr. Boden?
I came to ask you what to do, but he hadn't left after all: He'd gone into his car so I couldn't smell him anymore. And he followed me here." Sherlock hung his head. "Which shows I'm not as smart as I thought."
"There's a difference between being smart and being tricky," Amy said.
Still Sherlock wouldn't raise his head. "Then tricky must be better."
"Tricky is useful," Amy admitted. "But smart is better."
Sherlock finally looked at her again. "Really?"
"Really," Amy assured him. She gave him a tight hug. "And smart and nice is best of all."
"Like you," Sherlock said.
"Yeah, right," Amy scoffed.
"Like you," Sherlock repeated, and he licked her face.
"Thank you," Amy said. First Minneh called her fun, then Sherlock called her smart and nice. She hadn't been any of those things before Sherlock. Had she? Suddenly she had an awful thought. "You didn't unlatch the gate, did you?" An ordinary dog would never be able to figure it out, but she was sure Sherlock could have gotten it in seconds.
Sherlock shook his head, his big ears flapping. "I jumped over the fence, so if Ed did bring Dr. Boden back, they wouldn't see that the latch was undone."
"Good boy," Amy said, ruffling his fur. "Clever dog."
From behind, she heard Sean speaking loudly—probably to warn her that someone was coming. "Go away," he said. "Stop following me. Didn't you hear her say she wanted to be alone?"
Amy turned as Minneh answered, "She's my friend, too. If there's some sort of trouble, I want to help. I don't know why you're being so obnoxious all of a sudden."
Sean looked frantic, but Amy motioned for both of them to stop arguing and come closer. Sean stooped down to offer Sherlock a friendly pat, and Minneh crouched beside him.
"What's going on?" Minneh asked, instinctively knowing to whisper.
"You're never going to believe this," Amy said, "but do you see that man over there? He's bothering my dog."
Sean probably had a good idea what she was talking about. Minneh took her on faith. "Well," Minneh said, "I know how to get rid of him."
"You do?" Amy said. "How?"
"Young guy like that?" Minneh said. "Hanging around a school yard? All we have to do is tell Sister Mary Grace he's watching us and it's giving us the creeps." Minneh glared at him across the length of the playground. "He
is
giving me the creeps."
Sean said, "You mean like hint that maybe he's selling drugs? Have the police called in to arrest him?"
"No," Amy said. "If we accuse him of anything specific, then he'd know for sure."
"
Know
what?" Minneh asked.
Amy said, "He wants to take Sherlock."
"Some nerve!" Minneh sent her high-powered glare his way again. "Tell the police
that.
"
"I can't," Amy admitted. "Sherlock's not really my dog."
"You're a dognapper?" Minneh asked, sounding shocked but impressed.
"She's a dog rescuer," Sean corrected.
Sherlock barked in agreement.
"Minneh," Amy asked, "is there any way you can take Sherlock home with you? This guy and his friends know where I live. If you could hide him for a couple days, just until they decide Sherlock's not coming back to my place..."
"I don't know," Minneh said. "My father's allergic to dogs." She snapped her fingers. "But he could hide out in our garage."
Amy's eyes filled with tears of anger and frustration at this decision being forced on her. She could see that Sherlock was afraid. Yet he was waiting for her. Trusting her. But she didn't know what to do—not for sure. What if she chose wrong? Still she tried to sound sure, so Sherlock wouldn't worry. "You hear that, Sherlock?" she said. "We'll get rid of Ed. This afternoon, you go home with Minneh. She only lives a couple blocks from lis, but
Amy patted his head to reassure him, "We'll have to ask Sean," she said. "I don't know how most dogs spend their days, either."
"Then," Sherlock continued, "finally he went away, and I thought,
What if he's gone to get Dr. Boden?
I came to ask you what to do, but he hadn't left after all: He'd gone into his car so I couldn't smell him anymore. And he followed me here." Sherlock hung his head. "Which shows I'm not as smart as I thought."
"There's a difference between being smart and being tricky," Amy said.
Still Sherlock wouldn't raise his head. "Then tricky must be better."
"Tricky is useful," Amy admitted. "But smart is better."
Sherlock finally looked at her again. "Really?"
"Really," Amy assured him. She gave him a tight hug. "And smart and nice is best of all."
"Like you," Sherlock said.
"Yeah, right," Amy scoffed.
"Like you," Sherlock repeated, and he licked her face.
"Thank you," Amy said. First Minneh called her fun, then Sherlock called her smart and nice. She hadn't been any of those things before Sherlock. Had she? Suddenly she had an awful thought. "You didn't unlatch the gate, did you?" An ordinary dog would never be able to figure it out, but she was sure Sherlock could have gotten it in seconds.
Sherlock shook his head, his big ears flapping. "I jumped over the fence, so if Ed did bring Dr. Boden back, they wouldn't see that the latch was undone."
"Good boy," Amy said, ruffling his fur. "Clever dog."
From behind, she heard Sean speaking loudly—probably to warn her that someone was coming. "Go away," he said. "Stop following me. Didn't you hear her say she wanted to be alone?"
Amy turned as Minneh answered, "She's my friend, too. If there's some sort of trouble, I want to help. I don't know why you're being so obnoxious all of a sudden."
Sean looked frantic, but Amy motioned for both of them to stop arguing and come closer. Sean stooped down to offer Sherlock a friendly pat, and Minneh crouched beside him.
"What's going on?" Minneh asked, instinctively knowing to whisper.
"You're never going to believe this," Amy said, "but do you see that man over there? He's bothering my dog."
Sean probably had a good idea what she was talking about. Minneh took her on faith. "Well," Minneh said, "I know how to get rid of him."
"You do?" Amy said. "How?"
"Young guy like that?" Minneh said. "Hanging around a school yard? All we have to do is tell Sister Mary Grace he's watching us and it's giving us the creeps." Minneh glared at him across the length of the playground. "He
is
giving me the creeps."
Sean said, "You mean like hint that maybe he's selling drugs? Have the police called in to arrest him?"
"No," Amy said. "If we accuse him of anything specific, then he'd know for sure."
"
Know
what?" Minneh asked.
Amy said, "He wants to take Sherlock."
"Some nerve!" Minneh sent her high-powered glare his way again. "Tell the police
that.
"
"I can't," Amy admitted. "Sherlock's not really my dog."
"You're a dognapper?" Minneh asked, sounding shocked but impressed.
"She's a dog rescuer," Sean corrected.
Sherlock barked in agreement.
"Minneh," Amy asked, "is there any way you can take Sherlock home with you? This guy and his friends know where I live. If you could hide him for a couple days, just until they decide Sherlock's not coming back to my place..."
"I don't know," Minneh said. "My father's allergic to dogs." She snapped her fingers. "But he could hide out in our garage."
Amy's eyes filled with tears of anger and frustration at this decision being forced on her. She could see that Sherlock was afraid. Yet he was waiting for her. Trusting her. But she didn't know what to do—not for sure. What if she chose wrong? Still she tried to sound sure, so Sherlock wouldn't worry. "You hear that, Sherlock?" she said. "We'll get rid of Ed. This afternoon, you go home with Minneh. She only lives a couple blocks from lis, but
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