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sleep. But I could see clearly that the hair had not grown back.
    “Yes!” I cried happily.
    The razor cuts on my right hand still hurt. But I didn’t care. Both hands
were smooth and hairless.
    I turned them over and gazed at them for a long while. I was so glad they
looked normal.
    I had dreamed about hair during the night. It had started out as spaghetti.
In the dream, I was sitting in the kitchen, starting to eat a big plate of
spaghetti.
    But as I started to twirl the noodles on my fork, they instantly turned to
hair. Long, black hairs.
    I was twirling long, black hairs onto my fork. The plate was piled high with
long strands of black hair.
    Then I raised the forkful of hair to my mouth. I opened my mouth. I brought
the hairy fork up closer, closer.
    And then I woke up.
    Yuck! What a gross dream.
    I had felt really sick to my stomach. And it had been hard getting back to
sleep.
    Now at last it was morning, and I continued my inspection. I leaned over and
checked my feet. Then my legs. No black clumps of hair.
    No weird fur growing anywhere.
    I guess it’s safe to go to school, I told myself happily. But I’ll be sure to
keep my gloves handy.
    After breakfast, I pulled on my coat, grabbed my backpack, and headed out of
the house.
    It was a bright, warm day. The snow glistened wetly. The sunshine had started
to melt it. I stepped carefully around puddles of slush as I walked along the
sidewalk.
    I was feeling better. A lot better. In fact, I was feeling really good.
    Then I turned and saw that pack of dogs. Snarling dogs. Heading right for me.

 
 
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    My heart jumped up to my throat. The dogs were running full speed, their
heads bobbing up and down, their eyes trained on me. They barked and growled
furiously with each bounding step.
    My legs suddenly felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds. But I whirled
around and forced myself to run.
    If they catch me, they’ll tear me to pieces! I told myself. They must smell
Jasper on me, I decided. That’s why they always chase me.
    I loved my cat. But why did she have to get me in so much trouble?
    Who owned these vicious dogs, anyway? Why were they allowed to run wild like
this?
    Questions, questions. They flew through my mind as I ran. Across front yards.
Then across the street.
    A car horn blared. I heard the squeal of brakes.
    A car skidded toward the opposite curb.
    I had forgotten to check the traffic before I crossed.
    “Sorry!” I called. And kept running.
    A sharp pain in my side forced me to slow down. I turned and saw the yapping
dogs racing steadily toward me. They crossed the street and kept moving over the
snowy ground. Closer. Closer.
    “Hey, Larry!” Two kids stepped on to the sidewalk ahead of me.
    “Run!” I screamed breathlessly. “The dogs—”
    But Lily and Jared didn’t move.
    I stepped up to them, holding my side. It ached so hard, I could barely
breathe.
    Lily turned to stare down the dogs, as she had done before. Jared stepped up
to meet them. All three of us watched the dogs approach.
    Seeing the three of us standing together, the dogs slowed to a stop. The
snarls and growls stopped instantly. They stared back at us uncertainly. They
were panting hard, their tongues drooping down nearly to the snow.
    “Go home!” Lily shouted. She stamped her shoe hard on the sidewalk.
    The big black dog, the leader, uttered a low whimper and hung his head.
    “Go home! Go home!” All three of us chanted.
    The pain in my side started to fade. I felt a little better. The dogs weren’t
going to attack, I could see. They didn’t want to tangle with all three of us.
    They turned and started to trot away, following the big black dog.
    Suddenly Jared started to laugh. “Look at that one!” he cried. He pointed to
a long, scrawny dog with black, curly fur.
    “What’s so funny about that one?” I demanded.
    “He looks just like Manny!” Jared declared.
    Lily started to laugh. “You’re right! He does!”
    All three of