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we were already halfway to our building.
    Let me tell you this. When a dachshund wants to get somewhere, you better get out of the way. They’re short, but mighty. Come to think of it, so am I.

CHAPTER 8
    Papa Pete stood on the corner and watched me go into our apartment, then walked Frankie and Ashley to the library. This worked out fine because he doesn’t actually like to drop me off right in front of our apartment. He’s always afraid of running into Mrs. Fink, who winks at him and invites him in to watch her DVD collection of championship bowling matches.
    As I went into the building, Cheerio was still full of energy. He practically dragged me into the elevator and then spun around and around in a circle until we got to the tenth floor. The minute we reached the door of our apartment, he jumped up as high as he could and started scratching on it.
    When we got inside, he bolted for the dining room table, where Emily and Robert were deeply engrossed in a project. I didn’t know what it was, but I was sure it was something that they thought was smart-o-rrific, like figuring out why penguins are classified as birds even though they can’t fly.
    As soon as Cheerio got within four feet of Robert, the bony little kid’s allergic reaction to dog hair kicked into high gear. Robert sneezed fifteen times in a row, blowing all their research papers off the table.
    â€œRobert, I told you to number them first,” Emily said. “Now we’re going to have a hard time putting them back in order.”
    â€œAchoo,” Robert answered. “Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!”
    â€œWow, Robert,” I said. “I’ve never met anyone who defends himself in nose speak.”
    â€œAchoo,” he said, just like I knew he would.
    â€œYou know that Robert has a hard time with short-haired dog dander,” Emily said, which was way more information about Robert’s allergies than I needed to have. “It clogs his nasal passages, which stimulates the sneeze reflex.” Again, way too much information.
    â€œI thought he was just allergic to you,” I said, hoping that would change the topic. It did, but not in a good way.
    â€œI don’t have time for your childish insults,” Emily said. “Robert and I are hard at work, making sure that Katherine will become the next mascot of PS 87.”
    â€œKatherine?” I gasped. “Are you kidding? You actually think she’s going to win?”
    â€œWhy not?” Emily said, giving me one of her I-am-so-superior looks. “Katherine is clearly the most talented, intelligent, and beautiful animal in the competition.”
    I immediately put my hands over Cheerio’s ears.
    â€œDon’t listen, boy. She didn’t mean it.”
    â€œCheerio knows I love him,” Emily said. “But he also knows that Katherine would make a better mascot. We all know that Cheerio could never handle the pressure of the job. He’s too distractible. Just like you.”
    â€œBeing distractible has its good points.” I was defending myself as well as Cheerio.
    â€œYou would know,” she said.
    â€œWell, no matter what you think, I’m entering Cheerio in the mascot competition. He just had his first training session in the park, and he participated in everything that was going on around him.”
    I thought that was a nice way to put it. Not accurate, but nice.
    â€œAnd how are you going to handle the report part of the contest?” Emily asked me. “That’s not exactly your strong point.”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, the research has already started. Team Cheerio is deep into dachshund history.”
    â€œPerhaps you could use this fact,” Robert said, wiping his nose with a Kleenex. “Because of their elongated body and short stature, they are sometimes referred to as the wiener dog.”
    â€œThank you, Robert, I’ll keep that in mind. I really like that fact.”
    â€œOf