The Boy Who Ate Dog Biscuits

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Authors: Betsy Sachs
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1     
    “Billy! Don’t forget your bed.”
    “Mom!” Billy Getten called back to his mother. “Cleaning my room doesn’t make sense. It only gets messy again.”
    Billy pulled his torn pants from under the bed. Where would he hide them? He didn’t want his mother to find out he’d ruined his new clothes.
    A yellow dog biscuit fell out of the pants pocket. It was covered with lint. Bright green clay was stuck to one end.
    Billy picked the fuzzy lint off and most of the clay. He took a small bite. Chicken flavor was his favorite.
    Billy took another bite. Then he put theother half in his hip pocket. He wanted to save some for later.
    He dug his schoolbag out of the closet and stuffed the torn pants into it. His mother would never think of looking there now that it was summer.
    “Mom!” Billy called. He straightened up his bed. “I’m done.”
    Billy pulled on a faded blue T-shirt and brushed back his straight brown hair. He grabbed his baseball cap from the top of the dresser. In the mirror he made sure the cap was on backward.
    “Looks better,” Billy’s mother said from the doorway.
    Billy shut his closet door quickly. “Can I go out now?”
    “I want you to come hold Sarah while I make her bed.”
    “Do I have to?”
    “Of course.”
    “But Howard’s waiting.”
    “Tell him to come in, then.”
    “And see me holding a baby!”
    “I’m sure he holds his brother.”
    No way, Billy thought. Howard would never.
    Billy turned to the window. “Five minutes,” he shouted.
    “Billy, please!” Mrs. Getten picked up a pile of clothing off the floor.
    “Okay,” he said. “I’m coming.”
    He followed his mother down the hall. The baby’s room was white, with little pink flowers all over the walls. In the crib his baby sister was playing with a red plastic ring.
    “Sit in the rocker,” Mrs. Getten said. Then she put Sarah in Billy’s lap.
    Billy looked at his sister. She had dark red hair just like his mother’s, but her face was all bunched up. “I thought babies were supposed to be cute. How come she looks like an old monkey?”
    “She is cute,” Mrs. Getten said. “She looks like Grandpa Stewie.”
    Billy’s mother shook out the clean pink sheets. She began to make up the crib.
    “Goo, goo,” said Sarah. She snuggled against Billy’s chest.
    “She doesn’t do anything,” Billy said, “but sleep and poop.”
    “Ha!” said his mother. “Come feed her sometime.”
    “That’s boring too.”
    “Hardly.”

    “I can’t do stuff with her like I could with a dog. You know I’ve been praying for a dog for a long time. Even before Sarah was born!”
    Billy’s mother said, “Sometimes it takes a while for prayers to be answered. And it doesn’t always happen the way you expect.”
    Billy wasn’t sure what his mother meant. All he knew was that he prayed for a dog, but a baby came instead.
    Mrs. Getten put Sarah back in her crib. “Nana and Grandpa won’t find anything strange in your room when they stay over, will they?”
    “No, Mom. Can I go out now?” Billy inched toward the bedroom door.
    “Well, all right. Just don’t let the screen door slam.” Mrs. Getten eased the crib bars up on Sarah’s bed. “I think she’s finally going to take a nap.”
    Billy didn’t really hear his mother. He was already heading for the stairs.
    He crashed through the kitchen. He jumped from the top of the porch. The screen door slammed, but Billy didn’t notice. He was already down the driveway.

2   
    Howard Rosa sat on the stone wall at the end of Billy’s driveway. The backs of his red high tops banged against the wall. His laces were untied. “What took you so long?” he asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “What do you mean, nothing? I’ve been waiting all morning.” Howard’s mother let him spike his hair. He peered at Billy through yellow sunglasses.
    Billy could see himself in the lenses. “My grandparents are coming for my birthday. I had to pick up my room.”
    Howard shook

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