“Would you look at that guy eat?” Dad laughed and shook his head. The Petersons were all in the kitchen, watching Noodle gobble up the last bites from a dish of puppy food that Mom had put down just seconds ago. “Maybe we should have called him Hoover. He’s like a vacuum cleaner!”
Lizzie giggled. It was true. She had never seen a puppy — or even a grown dog — eat so much, so fast. “He’s a real chowhound, that’s for sure. Or maybe he’s just extra hungry from his adventures today.”
“Sure, he must have worked up an appetite with all that swimming,” said Mom.
Next to Noodle, Buddy was still picking away at his own bowl of puppy chow. Now that the Petersons’ puppy was a little more grown up, he was a very neat eater. “Remember when Buddy was little and he used to wade right into the food dish?” Charles asked. “Now look at him. He eats like a big boy.”
The whole family turned to look fondly at Buddy. The Bean ran over to give him a hug. “Big boy!” he said. The sleeve of his Fur trailed into Buddy’s dish.
“Don’t bother Buddy while he’s eating,” Mom reminded the Bean, scooping him up and plopping him onto her lap. “Dogs don’t like that.”
“I think Noodle wants seconds,” Lizzie said. Sure enough, the little curly-haired pup was sitting back on his bottom, gazing hopefully at Dad.
“Coming right up,” Dad said, bending down to pick up Noodle’s bowl. “I’ll give him a little bit more. Dr. Gibson said not to feed him too much at once. If he hasn’t eaten for a while, he could get sick if he eats too much too fast.” He shook some puppy chow into Noodle’s dish and took it to the sink to add warm water. “There you go, pup,” he said, putting it down.
It was gone in a flash. Noodle sat back and looked up hopefully. Would there be thirds?
Dad shook his head. “That’s all for now, pal,” he said. “How about some water?” He pushed Noodle’s water bowl closer and Noodle stood up to lap at it for a few moments. Then the puppy sat back on his bottom again and looked around the room.
I’m still a little hungry, but I don’t see any more food coming. I guess I can wait. And my people aren’t here yet. Well, I guess I might as well check out this new place!
Noodle jumped up and zoomed out of the kitchen. “Hey!” Lizzie said, watching him zip past her. She laughed. “Look at him go. I guess he’s feeling better.”
“Wait for me!” the Bean yelled as he galloped after Noodle.
Buddy scrambled out from under the kitchen table, where he had been lying patiently under Charles’s feet ever since he’d finished his dinner. He let out a bark and dashed after the Bean.
Lizzie and Charles looked at each other, shrugged, and followed Buddy.
Noodle had run into the living room, and now he was investigating. He trotted from the couch to the rocking chair to the bookshelves to the fireplace, sniff-sniff-sniffing everything. When he sniffed under Mom’s blue easy chair, he started to sneeze so hard that he fell over — but he just rolled around for a second and then jumped to his feet, still sneezing.
What a silly puppy! The Bean clapped his hands and laughed his googly laugh. Lizzie and Charles were cracking up, too. Noodle ran around faster and sniffed harder and sneezed again and again. He seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting. This puppy was a real clown!
Ha-ha-ha! They like me. I love to make people laugh. Maybe if I do a somersault they’ll laugh even harder! My people always liked that trick.
Suddenly, Noodle tripped on the rug and took a tumble, head over heels. For a second, Lizzie held her breath. Was the puppy okay? Then he jumped to his feet and shook his head so that his big floppy ears flipped and flapped. Lizzie started to laugh again. “You little silly!” she cried, running over to give Noodle a hug.
“He’s funny,” Charles said. “I wish we could keep him.”
“Me, too!” said Lizzie.
“Lizzie, you not two,” the Bean cried, holding up two fingers.
“I wasn’t talking about how old I am,” Lizzie said, scooping her little brother up into her arms, along with Noodle. “You’re a little silly, just like Noodle!”
The Bean giggled, then started squirming. “Let me go!”
Noodle started squirming, too. Lizzie kissed the top of the puppy’s head. She kissed the Bean’s ear, trying to hold her breath near his smelly Fur. Then she let them both go.
Noodle dashed off, with the Bean toddling after him. Then Buddy joined the parade. Noodle was like the Pied Piper — everybody wanted to follow him! Noodle ran around the couch three times, then over to the rocking chair, then did a loop around Mom’s easy chair — almost knocking over her reading lamp — and galloped back toward the couch. At the last second, he scrunched down and slid right under the couch! Buddy dove right after him, but try as he might, the Bean could not squeeze in. He sat back on his butt and started to cry. His Fur was covered with dust balls.
Lizzie shook her head. “It’s okay,” she told her little brother. “Don’t cry. The puppies will come out.”
Buddy popped out a few seconds later and jumped onto the Bean’s lap, licking the little boy’s face the way he always did when the Bean cried. Then Noodle popped out and danced around Buddy and the Bean, barking and wagging his tail.
“Well,” Dad said a few minutes later, as they watched Noodle start another game of Follow the Leader. “Dr. Gibson was right. He sure did get his energy back.”
Noodle kept the Petersons laughing all the way until bedtime. He was so much fun! Lizzie was so distracted that it wasn’t until she was almost asleep that night, cozy in her purple dog pajamas with her blankets pulled up to her chin, that she remembered. They had forgotten to call the police and Caring Paws! And now it was too late. Lizzie yawned and turned over. She would just have to remember to do it first thing in the morning.