fell. "Sherlock!" she said.
But then he dropped the Frisbee and ran to the edge of the lawn, where he started barking and barking at someone who was approaching.
Finally Amy noticed the young woman who was walking along the sidewalk, stopping occasionally to tack some sort of flier to telephone poles.
Finally Amy caught on.
She went to stand next to Sherlock and pretended that she was there to hold on to his collar. "Someone you know?" she whispered.
Sherlock's head dipped in a nod while he continued barking.
Amy raised her voice to say, "Come on, you dumb dog!" She tugged on the collar Sean had provided them with.
The young woman with the fliers hesitated at the edge of the yard. Too young to be a professor, Amy guessed: more likely one of the college students.
"Don't worry," Amy assured her. "He's noisy and he doesn't obey, but he doesn't bite." She turned her attention back to Sherlock. "Come on, Big Red," she said, figuring
Sherlock
was obviously the name of a smart dog, and she didn't want this woman realizing he was a smart dog. "Knock it off before the neighbors complain again." Subtle hint for a clever college student that he'd been with the family for a while.
Any sensible passerby would have kept on moving, but the young woman stopped. "Hi," she said. "Your dog looks like quite a handful."
"He is," Amy told her. "He never listens."
The front door opened and Amy's dad leaned out just long enough to yell, "Amy! Control that dog of yours!"
Sherlock gave one more bark, but he didn't dare get on Dad's bad side, so he stopped.
The woman said, "I'm looking for a dog like yours."
Amy hoped her voice didn't give her away as she asked, "What? One that doesn't behave?"
The woman laughed. "No, actually the dog I'm looking for is very well behaved. But he looks just like your dog." She put her hand out and Sherlock let her set her hand on his head, but only for an instant. He backed away before she could actually pet him. The woman held out her stack of fliers. "Take one," she said.
Amy did because it would have looked suspicious to refuse. There, under big letters saying LOST , was a picture of Sherlock.
"The dog I'm looking for belongs to the college," the woman said as Amy read about the missing dog.
Amy gave a snort of scorn. "College?" she repeated. "Big Red flunked out of obedience school."
The woman laughed again. She didn't look mean. Amy wouldn't have picked her out as someone who would murder intelligent dogs just to study their brains. "Big Red," the woman said. She moved closer again, and Sherlock let her scratch under his jaw, near where the dog tag Sean had given them dangled from the collar. Amy couldn't tell if she actually checked. "Big Red," the woman repeated, still sounding friendly, but perhaps a bit too interested. "Odd name for a small brown dog."
"He's named after someone," Amy said, the only thing she could think of.
"Oh, yes?" the woman answered in a noncommittal tone.
And, because that seemed to require something more, Amy said, "My grandfather."
The woman looked startled, but all she said was, "The dog I'm looking for answers to the name F-32. He's a very valuable animal. There'll be a reward. The phone number is on the flier."
"OK," Amy said.
The woman continued walking, occasionally stopping to fish a thumbtack out of her pocket to put fliers up on the telephone poles. Amy and Sherlock stood silently watching her, but Amy felt Sherlock tremble under her hand. The woman was too far away before Amy thought of what she should have said. She should have said, "F-32? Who's
he
named after?"
Minneh
In school the next day, Amy didn't have a chance to talk to Sean all morning. So, as they were going into the cafeteria, she abruptly walked away from her friends, including Andrea, who was in the middle of a funny story, and she cut in line in front of Sean.
"Hey!" Sean's friend Chris complained.
"Oh, hush," Amy told him.
This was so unlike Amy, Chris hushed. And when they'd gotten
But then he dropped the Frisbee and ran to the edge of the lawn, where he started barking and barking at someone who was approaching.
Finally Amy noticed the young woman who was walking along the sidewalk, stopping occasionally to tack some sort of flier to telephone poles.
Finally Amy caught on.
She went to stand next to Sherlock and pretended that she was there to hold on to his collar. "Someone you know?" she whispered.
Sherlock's head dipped in a nod while he continued barking.
Amy raised her voice to say, "Come on, you dumb dog!" She tugged on the collar Sean had provided them with.
The young woman with the fliers hesitated at the edge of the yard. Too young to be a professor, Amy guessed: more likely one of the college students.
"Don't worry," Amy assured her. "He's noisy and he doesn't obey, but he doesn't bite." She turned her attention back to Sherlock. "Come on, Big Red," she said, figuring
Sherlock
was obviously the name of a smart dog, and she didn't want this woman realizing he was a smart dog. "Knock it off before the neighbors complain again." Subtle hint for a clever college student that he'd been with the family for a while.
Any sensible passerby would have kept on moving, but the young woman stopped. "Hi," she said. "Your dog looks like quite a handful."
"He is," Amy told her. "He never listens."
The front door opened and Amy's dad leaned out just long enough to yell, "Amy! Control that dog of yours!"
Sherlock gave one more bark, but he didn't dare get on Dad's bad side, so he stopped.
The woman said, "I'm looking for a dog like yours."
Amy hoped her voice didn't give her away as she asked, "What? One that doesn't behave?"
The woman laughed. "No, actually the dog I'm looking for is very well behaved. But he looks just like your dog." She put her hand out and Sherlock let her set her hand on his head, but only for an instant. He backed away before she could actually pet him. The woman held out her stack of fliers. "Take one," she said.
Amy did because it would have looked suspicious to refuse. There, under big letters saying LOST , was a picture of Sherlock.
"The dog I'm looking for belongs to the college," the woman said as Amy read about the missing dog.
Amy gave a snort of scorn. "College?" she repeated. "Big Red flunked out of obedience school."
The woman laughed again. She didn't look mean. Amy wouldn't have picked her out as someone who would murder intelligent dogs just to study their brains. "Big Red," the woman said. She moved closer again, and Sherlock let her scratch under his jaw, near where the dog tag Sean had given them dangled from the collar. Amy couldn't tell if she actually checked. "Big Red," the woman repeated, still sounding friendly, but perhaps a bit too interested. "Odd name for a small brown dog."
"He's named after someone," Amy said, the only thing she could think of.
"Oh, yes?" the woman answered in a noncommittal tone.
And, because that seemed to require something more, Amy said, "My grandfather."
The woman looked startled, but all she said was, "The dog I'm looking for answers to the name F-32. He's a very valuable animal. There'll be a reward. The phone number is on the flier."
"OK," Amy said.
The woman continued walking, occasionally stopping to fish a thumbtack out of her pocket to put fliers up on the telephone poles. Amy and Sherlock stood silently watching her, but Amy felt Sherlock tremble under her hand. The woman was too far away before Amy thought of what she should have said. She should have said, "F-32? Who's
he
named after?"
Minneh
In school the next day, Amy didn't have a chance to talk to Sean all morning. So, as they were going into the cafeteria, she abruptly walked away from her friends, including Andrea, who was in the middle of a funny story, and she cut in line in front of Sean.
"Hey!" Sean's friend Chris complained.
"Oh, hush," Amy told him.
This was so unlike Amy, Chris hushed. And when they'd gotten
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