all three, then managed with his nose and right paw to overturn the middle pail and free the treat, which he gobbled with relish.
"Right on the first try!" Grandpa said. "Three more points, Henry!"
Mom wrote it down. "Not bad for a dog who eats empty garbage bags," she said.
"That was only that one time," Sarah said.
"Once was enough," Mom said, shaking her head. "The vet bill was over six hundred dollars."
Henry swallowed his cookie. He seemed pleased to realize he was the kind of dog someone would spend a lot of money to help.
"Okay, Sarah, we need another treat." Grandpa leaned forward and pointed. "Put it right there, under the coffee table. Where he can only reach it with his paw."
The coffee table was low to the ground. Henry cocked his head as Sarah positioned the cookie.
"If he can get the treat with just his paw, he gets another three points," Grandpa said. "No fair using his snout."
Henry paused for only a moment in front of the table. Then he extended his big, curly-haired paw
toward the treat. He did it with surprising delicacy, as though a careless move might cause the cookie to fall into a hole in the floor and disappear forever.
When he had maneuvered the cookie out from under the table, and bent to eat it, Sarah, Grandpa, and Mom all cheered at once.
Grandpa pumped a fist in the air. "Seems to me we got us an Einstein here," he said.
"Let's not get carried away," Mom said.
"Paula, I'm telling you, this dog's a gem!" Grandpa turned to Sarah. "Now let's see if he can figure out how to get a treat when it's behind all those cardboard boxes we cut up."
They had flattened a couple of boxes to create a surface about five feet long and three feet tall. Then Sarah had cut a square hole out of the center so that Henry could see through it. They had balanced the whole thing against two more boxes, creating a kind of wall. Sarah set a cookie on the opposite side of the wall, making sure that HenryâGrandpa's hand holding him firmly by the collarâwas watching through the makeshift window.
"Okay, buddy," Grandpa said, releasing him. "Show your stuff."
Henry seemed momentarily confused. He moved
toward the cardboard barrier, then sniffed. Cautiously he tried to insert his nose into the cut-out hole.
"Uh-oh," Sarah whispered.
After a moment Henry withdrew his nose. He cocked his head. His tail, wagging almost incessantly, slowed to a stop.
"Come on, buddy," Grandpa said. "You can do it."
Encouraged, Henry stood still for another few seconds. Sarah could almost see him pondering, weighing his options.
Finally, sniffing the air as though it were providing him with invisible clues, he jogged around the barrier and made his way to the cookie.
"Forty-six seconds," Grandpa said, checking his watch. "Not great, but not bad. Give him two points, Paula."
"Maybe he's getting tired," Sarah said.
"Just one more test. Go get his leash. If he hears it jangling and gets excited without you saying a word, he gets another three points."
Sarah ran into the kitchen and took the leash off the counter, where she'd left it after that morning's walk. Heading into the living room, she saw Henry swallow the last of his cookie, then run to her with a hopeful look in his eyes.
"He knows," she said. "Another three points! What's his score, Mom?"
"Fourteen out of fifteen. Brilliant, according to the experts."
"What'd I tell you? Brilliant!" Grandpa smacked his thigh. Then he positioned his hands on the armrest and struggled to push himself to stand up. "Come on, girls. Let's walk ole Einstein here to the corner and get cones. My treat."
It was almost dark out when they got down to the street. Sarah felt a thrill to be getting ice cream before dinner. She peered at the lit windows on the first floor of her building, imagining the families behind the curtains boiling water, setting tables, counting out knives and forks, the air they breathed smelling cozily of frying onions or simmering spaghetti sauce or meat
"Right on the first try!" Grandpa said. "Three more points, Henry!"
Mom wrote it down. "Not bad for a dog who eats empty garbage bags," she said.
"That was only that one time," Sarah said.
"Once was enough," Mom said, shaking her head. "The vet bill was over six hundred dollars."
Henry swallowed his cookie. He seemed pleased to realize he was the kind of dog someone would spend a lot of money to help.
"Okay, Sarah, we need another treat." Grandpa leaned forward and pointed. "Put it right there, under the coffee table. Where he can only reach it with his paw."
The coffee table was low to the ground. Henry cocked his head as Sarah positioned the cookie.
"If he can get the treat with just his paw, he gets another three points," Grandpa said. "No fair using his snout."
Henry paused for only a moment in front of the table. Then he extended his big, curly-haired paw
toward the treat. He did it with surprising delicacy, as though a careless move might cause the cookie to fall into a hole in the floor and disappear forever.
When he had maneuvered the cookie out from under the table, and bent to eat it, Sarah, Grandpa, and Mom all cheered at once.
Grandpa pumped a fist in the air. "Seems to me we got us an Einstein here," he said.
"Let's not get carried away," Mom said.
"Paula, I'm telling you, this dog's a gem!" Grandpa turned to Sarah. "Now let's see if he can figure out how to get a treat when it's behind all those cardboard boxes we cut up."
They had flattened a couple of boxes to create a surface about five feet long and three feet tall. Then Sarah had cut a square hole out of the center so that Henry could see through it. They had balanced the whole thing against two more boxes, creating a kind of wall. Sarah set a cookie on the opposite side of the wall, making sure that HenryâGrandpa's hand holding him firmly by the collarâwas watching through the makeshift window.
"Okay, buddy," Grandpa said, releasing him. "Show your stuff."
Henry seemed momentarily confused. He moved
toward the cardboard barrier, then sniffed. Cautiously he tried to insert his nose into the cut-out hole.
"Uh-oh," Sarah whispered.
After a moment Henry withdrew his nose. He cocked his head. His tail, wagging almost incessantly, slowed to a stop.
"Come on, buddy," Grandpa said. "You can do it."
Encouraged, Henry stood still for another few seconds. Sarah could almost see him pondering, weighing his options.
Finally, sniffing the air as though it were providing him with invisible clues, he jogged around the barrier and made his way to the cookie.
"Forty-six seconds," Grandpa said, checking his watch. "Not great, but not bad. Give him two points, Paula."
"Maybe he's getting tired," Sarah said.
"Just one more test. Go get his leash. If he hears it jangling and gets excited without you saying a word, he gets another three points."
Sarah ran into the kitchen and took the leash off the counter, where she'd left it after that morning's walk. Heading into the living room, she saw Henry swallow the last of his cookie, then run to her with a hopeful look in his eyes.
"He knows," she said. "Another three points! What's his score, Mom?"
"Fourteen out of fifteen. Brilliant, according to the experts."
"What'd I tell you? Brilliant!" Grandpa smacked his thigh. Then he positioned his hands on the armrest and struggled to push himself to stand up. "Come on, girls. Let's walk ole Einstein here to the corner and get cones. My treat."
It was almost dark out when they got down to the street. Sarah felt a thrill to be getting ice cream before dinner. She peered at the lit windows on the first floor of her building, imagining the families behind the curtains boiling water, setting tables, counting out knives and forks, the air they breathed smelling cozily of frying onions or simmering spaghetti sauce or meat
Similar Books
