Samuel put his hand on my back and leaned into the window with me. Ms. Chen waved at the woman in brown shorts.
“Aah, worried about Ms. Chen, Robot?” Samuel said. “Good thing she has you to help scare away those trucks.”
Samuel scratched my ears and told me to sit. I sat. He wiggled my best ball out of my mouth and tossed it across the living room.
“Get it,” Samuel said.
I sprung off the window seat and got the ball. I plopped it at his feet and sat.
Samuel turned the ball in his hands. He squeezed it. A crack opened into a wide smile.
“Sure you don’t want to play with a new ball?” Samuel said.
I was sure. I stuck my tongue out and wagged my stubby tail.
Samuel shook his head. He and I had been over this before. Sometimes Samuel would throw me one of the bright yellow tennis balls from my basket. I would go get it. But I never choose those balls. It takes a long time—a lot of chomping and barking and slobber—to get a tennis ball this good.
Samuel threw the ball. I ran to get it. So I dropped the ball at Samuel’s feet and sat—just waiting for the next throw. I could do this all day. But before he could throw it, Samuel’s phone buzzed. A Helper Hounds Alert!
Samuel grabbed his phone. He frowned and plopped onto our old green sofa.
“Oh no,” Samuel said.
I munched up my ball and crawled onto the sofa next to him. He scratched my head.
“Two kids—Max and Lily—are being bullied!” Samuel said. “I hate when kids are mean to each other.”
Samuel used to be a teacher. He’d seen a lot of kids getting bullied.
Samuel scrolled down on his phone.
“One kid tells Max he’s skinny and that he could snap him in two. Another girl makes fun of Lily because Max and Lily don’t live with their mom right now. Terrible!”
I barked my agreement.
Samuel held my snout in his hands and kissed my nose. He walked to the hallway where my official red Helper Hounds vest and leash hung on hooks. My stubby tail wagged.
“Can you help these two learn to stop their bullies?” Samuel said.
My tail wagged so hard my butt shook the sofa cushion. I jumped off.
I could help! I knew all about dealing with bullies. Two reasons:
1. I’m a Rottweiler. That means, I’m big and loud. Some people think I’m a bully! But it also means that I was born and bred to protect. My great-great-great-great-great grandparents protected sheep from bully bears and mountain lions in Germany. Today, I protect Ms. Chen and Samuel from the bully brown trucks! I’m always on alert for bullies.
2. My foster dad and trainer, Paul, was a bully. Well, he was a bully. Now, Paul is the nicest guy ever! But once upon a time, Paul did some really bad bully things—and ended up in prison. That’s where I met him. For real! I’ll tell you all about how we both got there. Let me go back to the beginning.