Animals

The movie droned on: ” . . . though today some of the canyons hold man-made lakes. This played an important role in the discovery of . . . ” I slumped down in my seat and let out a deep yawn, despite my efforts at fighting it. How could they expect anyone to be alert and focused in the last class of the last day before winter break? Crinkled notebook paper lay scattered across desks, smeared in gray smudges from listless doodling. Girls passed notes back and forth, scribbling out conversations that had grown from meager sentences into five-page sagas. A couple kids remained staring at the television screen, lost in a deep trance. It made me wonder whether people could actually fall asleep with their eyes wide open. I rested my chin on my fist, gazing absentmindedly out the window. Big, fluffy white snow flurries floated down loftily from the sky, settling atop the old, leftover snow in a thin, new layer. It looked to me like good packing snow, the kind you can build big, bulky snowmen out of. Perhaps I’d build a snowman of my own when I got home. That was, of course, after I dropped by the Andersons’ house. Mrs. Anderson had called me up on the phone last night, asking if I’d like to look after Maddie, their huge golden retriever, for a couple of days while they were out of town. I’d answered yes without any hesitation. Maddie must be the most lovable dog you are ever likely to meet. I’d looked after her a few times before. It was always fun. This time, however, I felt a little uneasy, a little weird. It would be the first time I looked after Maddie, just Maddie, and not also their gray tabby cat, Gretchen. The great golden retriever shot through the opening like a bolt of lightning Gretchen had been missing for nearly five days now, ever since that horrible snowstorm had blown past. I believe everyone had been a little freaked that day. I know for sure that I had been. We’d lost our power pretty early on, leaving the whole world, as much of it as I could see anyway, lost in total darkness. Outside, the wind had shrieked and howled relentlessly, like dying wolves on their last breath. It beat upon our house as if someone was actually standing outside taking a swing at it. I had to keep reassuring myself there was no way a house could literally uproot itself and fly away, like the one in The Wizard of Oz. Relief washed over me the next day as I woke to discover it had finally ended. Left behind, though, was a trail of gruesome damage. Poor Gretchen. There were no tracks, no clues. We didn’t know where to even begin looking. The outlook was bleak. I felt a pencil jabbing at me between my shoulder blades. “Hey, Katie!” whispered Laura. “Some of us are heading over to Caribou after school. You gonna come? It’ll basically be me, Allie, Sylvia, Steph. Maybe even Tim and Rich.” I was already shaking my head no, but stopped as she mentioned Rich. He was new. We’d met him only a few days ago. He had bright blue eyes and the kind of smile that made you want to smile too. I toyed with the thought of going, but eventually discarded it. Maddie was waiting for me. The sorry pup, locked up all day in that house. She was probably dying to get some fresh air. Rich would just have to wait. “Sorry,” I said, “I’ve got a job to do.” “Another dog thing?” “Yeah.” The movie snapped off and the screen went blank. “OK, class,” Mrs. Chavez said, rising from her desk. “Your homework over break will be to take notes on Section Two of Chapter Ten. We’ll discuss them when we get back. You’re dismissed.” I packed up my books and battled my way down the bustling hall. Kids, anxious to begin their winter break, swarmed all around in a brilliant chaos. Somehow I managed to reach my locker, retrieve my backpack and some books I needed, and now was heading for the front entrance. Quickening my pace, I was able to disembark, without interruption, swiftly out the doors. *          *          * It was snowing like mad by now. Cold too. Thank goodness I didn’t live far off. Down a couple of streets, left at the main intersection, and I was in my neighborhood. I stopped first at my house, dropped off my backpack, snatched the Andersons’ key off the table, and ventured back outside. The Andersons lived only three houses down. I inserted the key in their lock and twisted. The door swung open easily and I strode in. “Woof! Woof!” Maddie came barreling around the corner, jumping up to greet me like I was the first person she’d seen in years. Though that’s probably the way she feels, I realized, as she sent me reeling backwards. “Whoa there, Maddie,” I said, taking her front paws off my shoulders and setting them back on the ground. “Happy to see you, too.” I led Maddie through the house and opened the door to their fenced-in backyard. The great golden retriever shot through the opening like a bolt of lightning, galloping into the fresh, powdery snow. She looped about in huge, winding circles, dashing this way and that, sprinting around crazily as if her life depended on it. I smiled. That was Maddie for you. Eventually Maddie began to slow, and she sat herself down right at the farthest corner of the yard. Her snout almost touched the cold metal of the fence. She was staring out at something, very still, a deep sadness seeming to have suddenly fallen over her. Her eyes clouded over, her tail drooped low, and all the while she kept staring out ahead of her. Whining softly, she began pawing at the fence. My face was