10

The Toe-Tapping Trick

It was warm and sunny on Saturday morning.

That was a good thing.

Because I didn’t need to wear my sweater.

And because when Martin brought Edward over, Martin wasn’t wearing my sweater.

His sweater, I mean.

“I’ll pick Edward up after my tuba lesson,” Martin said.

I took Edward’s leash.

“Hey, did you know that sweater has ‘I love you’ written on the right sleeve in teensy yellow letters?” Martin asked.

“No,” I said quietly.

“And I found a mouse and a raccoon on it,” Martin said.

“That’s not a mouse,” I said. “It’s a possum. My grandma and grandpa have a possum family living in their backyard.”

“It’s a great sweater,” Martin said. “I wish Edward had one so we could match.”

Today Edward was wearing a green T-shirt. It said “World’s Smartest Dog” on it.

“Almost forgot,” Martin said. He pulled Frog on a Log out of his backpack.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I have a book he’ll like even better. It’s Goofy’s favorite. Bad Cat Goes to the Vet.”

“Well, there’s something I need to tell you,” Martin said. He made a throat noise. “See, Edward can’t exactly read.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

What about my trophy? I was thinking.

“It’s a trick. I just signal him how many times to bark,” Martin said. “I count the words on a page. Then I tap my foot. If it says, ‘Jump, frog, jump!’ then I tap my foot three times. And Edward barks three times.”

“So it only looks like he’s reading,” I said. “Oh.”

I was disappointed.

I sort of liked believing dogs could read.

Also I could see how I’d been a little hard on Goofy.

“You’d better stick with Frog on a Log since Edward is used to it. It’s a cool trick,” Martin said. “I’m sure you guys will win.”

Martin patted Edward’s poodle pompom. “Be sure he gets plenty of water,” he said. “He likes springwater. Cold. But not too cold.”

“Goofy likes toilet water,” I said. “He’s very open-minded.”

“He’s a nice dog,” Martin said.

Goofy licked Edward. Then he licked Martin. Then he licked me.

“Yes,” I said. “He really is.”

 

Dad drove me and Edward to the contest.

I’d told him and Mom a teensy little fib about why I was taking Edward instead of Goofy.

I said Martin had to go to his tuba lesson. So he couldn’t take Edward to the contest.

Which was true.

Then I said I was doing Martin a favor. Because he really wanted Edward in the show, so he asked me to help out.

That part was not so true.

Mom and Max and Hazel were coming to the show later. But I had to get there early to sign up.

“I’ll say this for you, Edward,” Dad said as we parked. “You sure smell better than Goofy.”

“I think he’s wearing doggie perfume, Dad,” I said.

The contest was in a park by the street fair. Dogs and kids were everywhere.

We walked over to a long table covered with paper and pencils. Dad helped me fill out a form so I could enter the contest.

A lady gave me a number to pin to my shirt. It was 13.

“Thirteen is not very lucky,” I said.

“Could be your lucky number today,” the lady said. “What’s your dog’s name?”

I started to say, “He’s not my dog.”

But instead I just said, “Edward.”

As we walked toward the big field, Dad said, “Goofy looked a little forlorn as we drove away.”

“What’s forlorn?” I asked.

“It’s how you feel when you think your boy doesn’t like you anymore.”

“Goofy couldn’t win a trophy, Dad,” I said.

As soon as I said it, I felt bad. Even though it was the truth.

“He could win for biggest appetite,” Dad joked.

He gave me a hug. Then he patted Edward.

“Good luck, guys,” he said. “We’ll meet you after the contest. I’m going to go save some seats so we have a good view. See ya, Ed.”

“It’s Edward,” I said.

“Figures,” said Dad.