see Razi leap out of the bushes at the end of the garden and run toward them.
“He’s going to bite me!” When he reached Mama, Razi grabbed the material of her dress and tried to hide himself in it.
“Razi. Little one, hush. Who is going to bite you?”
Razi was gulping for air. It didn’t help that his head was buried in Mama’s stomach.
“That bad dog. He was growling at me.”
“I don’t see a dog, Razi.” Keisha looked in the direction Razi had come. The bushes were tall and tangled, and a honeysuckle vine filled with orange flowers grew across the top. There was no sign of a dog or any commotion beyond what Razi was causing.
“I was looking for Keisha’s marker,” Razi said, sniffing. “With the purple polka dots. I thought I saw it in there.”
“Saw it in where, Razi?” Mama was examining Razi’s arms. He was covered with little scratches, and there were seedpods in his hair.
“The bushes. That’s where the bad doggy is. Bad dog! No!”
Razi had been afraid of dogs ever since he’d been knocked down by a big one at Millennium Park when he was three. It also didn’t help that Harvey, the Bakers’ dog, lunged at him every time they passed the Bakers’ fence.
“Keisha, go see what this boy is talking about,”Mama said, brushing the pods out of Razi’s hair. “I’ll take Razi with me to get our squash from Mrs. Zadinkis and meet you by the truck.”
What Keisha wanted was her marker. She loved that marker. She walked slowly over to the spot where Razi came out of the bushes. This area got sun all day, so the vines of the trumpet honeysuckle were thick.
Just as she started to part the bushes to look in, Keisha did hear a low growl. It wasn’t like Harvey’s snapping scary growl. It was a small-sized growl.
As her eyes got used to the dark inside the bushes, Keisha saw a curly-haired dog, no bigger than a watermelon, lying on its side—panting. It tried to get up when it saw her. It growled again. Keisha had been around animals enough to know this was not an I’m-going-to-bite-you growl but a defensive growl.
“What is it, Keisha?” Keisha felt Mama’s warm hand on her back.
“It’s hurt, Mama. Its front legs are funny. And it has some big scratches on its behind. They might be bites.”
Mama parted the bushes further and took a close look. “This dog needs medical attention right away,” she said. “I’m going to get the cell phone out of the truck and call Bob. I’ll get a box and a towel, too.”
Chapter 7
The next morning, Grandma clomped up the basement stairs, her arms full of supplies. “They don’t call it
Mephitis mephitis
for nothing,” she said, to no one in particular. “I bought two quarts of tomato juice at the Dollar Store yesterday. The rest of the ingredients should be here in my secret stash.…” She rummaged through the box she’d brought up. “Where’s that hydrogen peroxide?”
“There’s one bottle in the medicine cabinet and you’re borrowing some more from Mrs. Sanders. You just called to ask,” Keisha said. Keisha and Razi were sitting at the kitchen table, coloring. Keisha had her favorite drawing book next to her—
How to Draw Baby Animals
. It was opened to the puppy page.
“‘Puppies have larger heads compared to their bodies than full-sized dogs,’” Keisha read aloud as she sketched.
Razi was working on a picture from a coloring book they’d given him at his Safety Town class. He was coloring all the police officers purple. He started a song: “
Me-phi-tis me-phi-tis
. It smells like your armpits!”
“Has Mama called yet?” Keisha asked Grandma. Mama and the baby were at the community garden checking on the skunk trap. Mama had also promisedthat she would swing by the vet clinic at the Humane Society and check on the little dog they’d brought in yesterday afternoon. Keisha wondered if anyone had claimed her yet.
“No, not in the thirty seconds since you asked me the last time. Where is the Z-Team? I
“He’s going to bite me!” When he reached Mama, Razi grabbed the material of her dress and tried to hide himself in it.
“Razi. Little one, hush. Who is going to bite you?”
Razi was gulping for air. It didn’t help that his head was buried in Mama’s stomach.
“That bad dog. He was growling at me.”
“I don’t see a dog, Razi.” Keisha looked in the direction Razi had come. The bushes were tall and tangled, and a honeysuckle vine filled with orange flowers grew across the top. There was no sign of a dog or any commotion beyond what Razi was causing.
“I was looking for Keisha’s marker,” Razi said, sniffing. “With the purple polka dots. I thought I saw it in there.”
“Saw it in where, Razi?” Mama was examining Razi’s arms. He was covered with little scratches, and there were seedpods in his hair.
“The bushes. That’s where the bad doggy is. Bad dog! No!”
Razi had been afraid of dogs ever since he’d been knocked down by a big one at Millennium Park when he was three. It also didn’t help that Harvey, the Bakers’ dog, lunged at him every time they passed the Bakers’ fence.
“Keisha, go see what this boy is talking about,”Mama said, brushing the pods out of Razi’s hair. “I’ll take Razi with me to get our squash from Mrs. Zadinkis and meet you by the truck.”
What Keisha wanted was her marker. She loved that marker. She walked slowly over to the spot where Razi came out of the bushes. This area got sun all day, so the vines of the trumpet honeysuckle were thick.
Just as she started to part the bushes to look in, Keisha did hear a low growl. It wasn’t like Harvey’s snapping scary growl. It was a small-sized growl.
As her eyes got used to the dark inside the bushes, Keisha saw a curly-haired dog, no bigger than a watermelon, lying on its side—panting. It tried to get up when it saw her. It growled again. Keisha had been around animals enough to know this was not an I’m-going-to-bite-you growl but a defensive growl.
“What is it, Keisha?” Keisha felt Mama’s warm hand on her back.
“It’s hurt, Mama. Its front legs are funny. And it has some big scratches on its behind. They might be bites.”
Mama parted the bushes further and took a close look. “This dog needs medical attention right away,” she said. “I’m going to get the cell phone out of the truck and call Bob. I’ll get a box and a towel, too.”
Chapter 7
The next morning, Grandma clomped up the basement stairs, her arms full of supplies. “They don’t call it
Mephitis mephitis
for nothing,” she said, to no one in particular. “I bought two quarts of tomato juice at the Dollar Store yesterday. The rest of the ingredients should be here in my secret stash.…” She rummaged through the box she’d brought up. “Where’s that hydrogen peroxide?”
“There’s one bottle in the medicine cabinet and you’re borrowing some more from Mrs. Sanders. You just called to ask,” Keisha said. Keisha and Razi were sitting at the kitchen table, coloring. Keisha had her favorite drawing book next to her—
How to Draw Baby Animals
. It was opened to the puppy page.
“‘Puppies have larger heads compared to their bodies than full-sized dogs,’” Keisha read aloud as she sketched.
Razi was working on a picture from a coloring book they’d given him at his Safety Town class. He was coloring all the police officers purple. He started a song: “
Me-phi-tis me-phi-tis
. It smells like your armpits!”
“Has Mama called yet?” Keisha asked Grandma. Mama and the baby were at the community garden checking on the skunk trap. Mama had also promisedthat she would swing by the vet clinic at the Humane Society and check on the little dog they’d brought in yesterday afternoon. Keisha wondered if anyone had claimed her yet.
“No, not in the thirty seconds since you asked me the last time. Where is the Z-Team? I
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