Read Online Fenway and Hattie by Victoria J. Coe - Free Book Online Page A

and Angel hop up and down, their arms waving.
    â€œHattie, stand back!” I bark, leaping and flailing. “This thing must be dangerous!”
    But she is not listening to my very obvious warnings. The truck stops right next to the short humans, who are not moving out of the way. He’s going to get them!
    â€œGo away! We don’t want you here!” I bark at the truck.
    Like the Big Brown Truck, this one has a human inside. He leans out the window. Hattie, full of energy, talks to him. So does Angel.
    â€œRun away!” I bark to the short humans. “Go inside, climb a tree, anything!”
    Can they not hear me? Fetch Man or Food Lady,either? Fetch Man is over at the dirt chatting with Food Lady like everything’s fine.
    Good thing I’m here to save the day. Except for the Very Big Problem of the leash. I pull and pull, but there’s no way I can reach Truck Man. All I can do is bark. “You’d better scram, or else!”
    Hattie gives him a flimsy paper. Angel does, too. And just like that, Truck Man disappears. Was he scared off by my dire warnings? Or the short humans’ chattering?
    Unfortunately, neither. Truck Man returns and shoves something at the girls. Angel bounces impatiently. She reaches her hand toward the window. Is she trying to push Truck Man back inside?
    â€œI told you to leave!” I bark. Even though it’s useless, I lunge with all my might and—
snap!
—the leash breaks off!
    I rocket across the lawn. I’m heading right toward that truck at full speed.
    Food Lady and Fetch Man spring up. They race over, too, like they suddenly realize the danger the short humans are in. “Fenway! Fenway!” they’re calling, as if I’m not already on the job.
    I arrive at the scene just as Angel has apparently figured out that she’s no match for the musical truck. She turns to me, her eyes wide. Hattie starts shouting and waving her arms.
    â€œFEN-way! Stop!” Food Lady and Fetch Man both scream.
    â€œGo away! Leave these short humans alone!” I bark, baring my teeth. I’m leaping higher than I’ve ever leaped before. I must reach that window!
    I leap extra, extra high, but I still can’t reach it. As I fall back down, I collide with Angel, who lets out a shriek. Next thing I know, white creamy globs are all over her clothes.
    Truck Man is yelling. Food Lady and Fetch Man are practically breathless. But somehow this does not prevent them from speaking very loudly.
    Angel pulls at her delicious-smelling shirt like it’s on fire. I taste a few drips as they fly off.
Mmmmm!
Sweet and frosty. I go in for a better lick.
    Angel jumps back. Her face is angry. “Bad dog! Bad dog!” she yells.
    Hattie squats down and grabs what’s left of my leash. She shakes her finger at me. “FEN-way!” she says with a very mad “you’re in trouble” voice.
    What’d I do? No time to find out. My nose is detecting an irresistible blob of ice cream on the pavement. Talk about a distraction.
Mmmmm!
Vanilla!

The bright morning sun is shining through the window. I go to nuzzle Hattie, but she’s not there. And worse—this is not even her bed. Where am I?
    A quick glance around confirms the shocking reality—I’m in an empty room. Trapped by The Gate!
    Suddenly, I remember a horrifying dream. Hattie bossing me in here last night, brandishing The Gate. Wait a minute! Did that really happen?
    No! Hattie doesn’t boss. Hattie doesn’t brandish The Gate. I begin tearing around the room. Pictures are flying into my head. Images too awful to be true.
    Could I have actually spent the whole dark night alone in this strange room? Was I really curled up on this hard, wooden floor instead of in Hattie’s comfybed that smells like mint and vanilla? With no Hattie brushing my fur and singing “best buddies” as I’m falling asleep? Did I even sleep?
    I’m panting and