Anna, Banana, and the Puppy Parade Page 2

  My stomach did a flip, as if it had been tossed in the air like Banana’s bunny toy. It seemed wrong that Sadie and Isabel had been talking about the parade plans without me. Why couldn’t they have waited until I got there?

  But Sadie’s eyes were shining proudly, and I knew she and Isabel had worked hard on this. I swallowed back the weird feeling and glanced at the page. “That’s great,” I said.

  A funny look crossed Sadie’s face. I must not have sounded convincing.

  She dropped the notebook onto her lap. “It’s just a start,” she said. “We can add things. Or take stuff out. Or make a whole new plan.”

  I felt bad for how I’d reacted. “No, that’s okay. It’s a good schedule,” I said, even though I hadn’t really read it.

  “Hey,” Isabel said. She jumped off the rock. “Would you rather get the chicken pox or have to kiss a snake?”

  Sadie and I laughed. Isabel is so random sometimes. But I was glad she’d changed the subject.

  “I’d kiss the snake,” I said. “I hate being itchy.”

  “Me too,” Isabel said.

  “Not me.” Sadie shivered. “Snakes are all slithery. They give me the creeps.”

  “Ssssssssss,” Isabel hissed, weaving her wrist back and forth like her arm was a snake. Its head twisted toward me and I leaned in to kiss it.

  “Mwah. There! No chicken pox for me,” I said.

  “Now you’re sssssssssafe,” Isabel agreed.

  The bell rang and Sadie slid down off the rock. “Guess I’ll be covered in chicken pox polka-dots for the parade,” she said as she picked up her backpack. “Maybe I’ll win Best Spots.”

  “Or Most Fowl,” Isabel said. “Get it?”

  Sadie giggled.

  “Bawk, bawk!” I squawked, picking up the two sleeping bags. “Come on, sillies, let’s get to class.”

  Chapter Seven

  Bugging Out

  The school day passed quickly. I got my spelling test back with a gold star at the top. We played kickball at recess with a bunch of other kids, and Isabel kicked a home run. I started a new book during silent reading time, about a funny dog who really wants to eat a hamburger. And the word of the day, “sprightly,” was perfect for Banana. Sprightly: full of energy, it said on the whiteboard. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell her about it.

  When the final bell rang, Ms. Burland wished us all a happy weekend, and we set off for my house with Chuck. I carried Sadie’s sleeping bag and Chuck took Isabel’s. He’s a surprisingly nice big brother sometimes.

  “Would you rather carry a backpack filled with rocks everywhere you go, or have to do somersaults instead of walking?” Isabel asked as we marched along like we were in the Sleepover Parade.

  “Backpack filled with rocks,” Sadie said. “If you rolled everywhere, you’d get filthy.”

  “Why would I want to do either of those things?” Chuck said behind us.

  Isabel stopped and turned around. “It’s a game!” she said. “You have to choose one.”

  Sadie stopped too. “Those are the rules,” she said.

  “I’d do somersaults,” I said. “That sounds kind of fun.” Besides, I was already sick of carrying the sleeping bag plus my backpack not filled with rocks, and we’d barely even gone a block. I’d happily tumble home now if it meant we’d get there faster. Dragging all this stuff around was making me cranky.

  “I’d take the rocks,” Chuck said. “No problem for a big stud like me.” He puffed out his chest and flexed his arm muscles, like a wrestler on TV. Not that there was anything there to flex.

  Sadie and Isabel laughed at the dumb joke, and Isabel showed off her muscles too. We’d never get home at this rate. But it seemed like nobody cared about that but me.

  I shifted the sleeping bag to my other arm. “Can we please keep walking?” I said. It came out sounding more annoyed than I’d meant, but I was sick of standing around on the sidewalk while Chuck showed off for my friends. I wanted to get home to Banana so we could start the fun. My friends looked surprised, but at least they started moving again.

  “I’ve got one,” Chuck said, kicking my heels on purpose as we walked. “Would you rather eat a chocolate-covered ant or a chocolate-covered booger?”

  “No!” I shrieked. Now I really was annoyed. Chuck was going to ruin our game with his grossness. And Sadie’s giggles were only encouraging him.

  “No, what?” Chuck said. “No chocolate? Fine. Would you rather eat an ant or a booger?”

  I took a deep breath to keep myself calm. I knew Chuck was just trying to rile me up. That’s what brothers do best. But still, it was hard not to scream.

  “I’ve had a chocolate-covered ant,” Isabel cut in.

  “What?” I stared at her. “No way.”

  “Yup,” Isabel said. “Last summer. My cousins dared me to eat it. It mostly tasted like chocolate, really.”

  “Whoa.” Chuck looked impressed. Sadie wrinkled up her face and pretended to gag, but I think she was impressed too. “Maybe I’ll ask Dad if he can make us chocolate-covered ants for dessert tonight,” Chuck said.

  “We’re having personal pizzas and make-your-own sundaes,” I informed him. “But you’re welcome to put ants on yours.”

  “Pizza and sundaes, yum!” Isabel said. She twirled around in celebration, and soon Sadie and I were twirling too, spinning down the sidewalk until we were dizzy with glee.

  “Weirdos,” Chuck said, but we were having too much fun to care.

  Chapter Eight

  What’s In a Name?

  When we got home, Dad and Banana greeted us at the door. “Aw, look at her ribbon!” Sadie said. “Banana, you look adorable.”

  Banana yipped hello to my friends, and sniffed their overnight bags to see what they’d brought. Isabel giggled as Banana sniffed at her legs, too. “I bet she can smell Mewsic on me,” Isabel said. Mewsic is Isabel’s giant cat. Banana would probably love to play with her.

  “Pull hard on that door to shut it tight behind you,” Dad said to Chuck. “It’s been acting a little tricky today.” He loosened the tie he always wears while he’s writing and asked, “Anybody want a snack?”

  “Yeah!” I said. We followed him to the kitchen, with Banana right at our heels.

  Dad made us popcorn while we sat at the table and told him about our day. When the popcorn was ready, he scooped out two servings for himself and Chuck to take, and left us alone with the rest. I reached into the big bowl and grabbed a handful. Banana gazed up at me with hopeful eyes. I tossed her a little piece of popcorn and she caught it on her tongue.

  “So, what’s first on the schedule?” I asked Sadie.

  Sadie opened her notebook and turned to the list. “First we fill out the entry form,” she said. “I got it off the parade website last night.”

  “I’ll get a pen,” I said, popping up to grab one from the jar on the counter. When I got back to my seat, Sadie handed me the printout.

  “ ‘Contestant’s name,’ ” I read out loud. I uncapped the pen and, using my neatest letters, wrote Banana. “ ‘Contestant’s breed.’ Wiener dog!” I said, moving my pen to the next line.

  “Wait,” Sadie said. “I think we should say ‘dachshund.’ ”

  “They’re the same thing, right?” Isabel asked.

  “Right,” I said. “But I always call her a wiener dog. She likes it. Plus, it’s easier to spell.” Banana twitched her tail in agreement.

  “But ‘dachshund’ sounds more sophisticated,” Sadie said.

  “True,” Isabel said.

  I hesitated. Banana is definitely more silly than sophisticated, and I liked the funny sound of “wiener dog,” but Sadie and Isabel both looked so certain. “Dad!” I called over my shoulder. “How do you spell dachshund?”

  “There’s a dictionary in my office!” Dad answered from the living room.

  My friends and I glanced at each other. Nobody wanted to go look it up.

  Sadie sighed. “Okay, fine, just say wiener dog
,” she said. I wrote it in.

  “ ‘Owner,’ ” I read, and put down my full name. I went to the next line. “ ‘Owner’s addre—’ ”

  “What about us?” Isabel interrupted.

  I looked up. She and Sadie were both watching me expectantly. “What?” I said.

  “Shouldn’t our names go there too?” Isabel said.

  I squinted, like that might help me see what she was thinking. “It says owner,” I said. “And Banana is my dog.”

  “Of course she’s your dog,” Sadie said. “But we’re entering her with you.”

  Isabel nodded vigorously. “Yeah, so our names should go on the form too,” she said. “Because we’re a team.”

  “I know we’re a team. But it says owner,” I repeated, trying not to sound upset. I didn’t mind sharing Banana with my friends, but I didn’t like feeling like they were trying to claim her as their own. That wasn’t right.

  Banana leaned against my legs to reassure me. But then a piece of popcorn fell from Isabel’s fist, and Banana lunged under the table to grab it.

  Sadie pressed her lips together. “Forget it,” she said. “The form doesn’t matter.”

  Isabel swallowed hard, like there was a big lump of popcorn stuck in her throat. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she said. But I could tell from her face that it wasn’t.

  I gripped the pen tighter. Maybe I should just write my friends’ names in. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. But for some reason, it felt like one.

  “You know what?” Sadie said. “I think I’m done with popcorn. Let’s take Banana to the spa.”

  Chapter Nine

  Bubble Up

  Isabel’s eyes lit up. “The spa?” she said.

  “Yup.” Sadie gave a sharp nod. “Time to pretty her up. We’ll wash her and brush her until she’s the most beautiful dog you’ve ever seen.”

  I already thought Banana was the most beautiful dog I’d ever seen, but doing a dog spa did sound fun. Except . . . “Banana hates the water,” I told them. “She won’t even go wading at the beach. She barks like crazy when she sees the waves, and runs away if they touch her toes.”

  “Aw, that sounds adorable,” Isabel said.

  “Yeah, but everybody likes bubble baths,” Sadie said. “We’ll make it nice and fancy. She’ll love it.”

  I peeked at Banana. She tipped her head to one side, curious. “Okay, let’s try it,” I said.

  We raced upstairs to the bathroom. Banana went straight to the soft, fluffy bath mat in front of the tub. She turned in a circle twice, and lay down.

  “What have you got for bubble bath?” Sadie asked.

  I took out the bottle of Bumbleberry Bubbles that Nana and Grumps had sent. Sadie flipped open the cap and held it up to her nose.

  “Hmm,” she said. “Do you think your mom would let us use her lavender bath powder instead? That’s even fancier.” Sadie always loves admiring the pretty bottles and jars of nicely scented things Mom keeps in the other bathroom. Sometimes when we do our own sleepover spas, Mom lets us try her special hand cream or use her conditioner. Mom wouldn’t be home until dinnertime, so I couldn’t ask to use the powder, but I figured she probably wouldn’t mind. Still, I felt uneasy about taking it without permission.

  “We’ll only use a little bit,” Sadie said.

  I looked at Isabel and Banana. Isabel shrugged, leaving it up to me. Banana thumped her tail.

  “Okay, but just a little bit. And we have to put it back right away,” I said.

  Sadie grinned. “Great!” she said. I ran to get it. “And the lavender shampoo, too!” she called after me.

  I paused for only a second before grabbing both. This was a special occasion. Mom would want Banana to be her best for the big parade.

  When I got back to the other bathroom, Isabel was already running the water. Banana had moved off the bath mat, over to the far side of the room. She watched Isabel closely.

  “It’s okay, Banana,” I said as I handed Sadie the two containers. “Baths aren’t scary like the ocean.” Banana flattened her ears. She wasn’t convinced.

  “And when you get out, you’ll smell as beautiful as you look!” Isabel told her. “Like a bouquet of lavender.”

  Sadie unscrewed the lid from the jar of bath powder and Banana lifted her nose, sniffing the air. My friends laughed. Sadie tipped the purple powder into the running water. A whole handful rushed out.

  “Sadie!” I yelped. “That’s too much!” Banana’s ears shot straight up. The scent of lavender filled the room as a mound of bubbles piled up in the tub.

  “Sorry,” Sadie said. “I didn’t think it would come out so fast.”

  I let my shoulders drop. They’d somehow made it all the way up to my ears. “That’s okay,” I said, trying to relax. Of course Sadie hadn’t done it on purpose. “Let’s just put the top back on before any more spills out.”

  Sadie tightened the lid while Isabel tested the water temperature and turned off the tap. Isabel scooped a pile of bubbles from the tub, held them to her lips, and blew. They shot toward me. I scooped up my own foamy handful and blew them back.

  “Bubble fight!” Sadie cried, dipping both hands into the bubble mountain to get some soapy ammunition. I shrieked and ducked as a glob of bubbles landed on my arm and another just missed Isabel’s ear. Sadie giggled as I swatted a spray of them back at her. Banana yipped and jumped between us, nudging bubbles with her nose and batting them around with her fast-wagging tail.

  “Bubbles away!” Isabel said as she stood and released a double helping of foam over Sadie’s and my heads.

  I was laughing so hard I almost didn’t hear my dad call up the stairs, “Girls, are you making messes up there?”

  “Nope, we’re cleaning a mess—Banana!” I shouted back. I wiped the foamy bubbles off my cheek. “C’mere, Banana. Bath time!” I said. But Banana stopped her happy tail-wagging and backed away from the tub.

  Chapter Ten

  Pretty Is as Pretty Does

  I called her again. “Come on, Banana! Don’t be scared.” I patted my lap, but Banana didn’t budge. Sadie frowned.

  I went over to the corner where Banana was hiding and knelt to stroke her ears. “I know you hate the water, but it won’t be so bad. And think of how soft and pretty you’ll be when we’re done.” I kissed her snout to reassure her. Banana still seemed uncertain, but she let me take off her collar and bow so they wouldn’t get wet, and lift her in my arms.

  I carried Banana over to the tub and lowered her carefully into the water. Her whole body went stiff as she stood in the pile of bubbles with her ears pressed flat and her tail tucked between her legs. She did not look happy.

  My heart lurched. I felt terrible making my dog do something she hated. But Sadie was right—Banana needed a bath to look as perfect as possible for the dog show. It wouldn’t take long. And we’d definitely give her treats afterward.

  “Good girl,” I cooed in my most soothing voice as I drizzled warm water onto her back. Sadie and Isabel praised her too, and we all perched on the edge of the tub, patting her and getting her fur wet for the shampoo. Banana did not like the water, but she definitely liked the patting. Her ears perked up a bit, and I relaxed.

  I squeezed a little dollop of the fancy shampoo onto Banana’s back. I rubbed some under her chin and soaped up her ears, being careful not to get any suds in her eyes, while Sadie and Isabel washed her back. Banana wriggled happily under the six-handed massage and the sweet-smelling lather.

  “She likes it!” Isabel said. Banana nosed at the bubbles, getting a few on her snout. “A rub-a-dub-dub. A doggy in the tub!” Isabel sang.

  When Banana was all soaped up, Isabel released the drain and Sadie grabbed the spray hose. “Time to rinse off!” she said. But when she turned on the water, Banana freaked. She squirmed out from under my grasp and lunged for the edge of the tub, trying to get away from the spray. But the bathtub was slippery and her paws couldn’t get a grip, so she scrambled and splashed and slid aro
und, getting water and bubbles everywhere.

  “Banana, hold still!” I cried, trying to grab her. It was like trying to hold on to quicksand. Wiggly, slippery, soapy quicksand that was determined to jump out of the tub.

  “Stay,” Sadie commanded, turning off the spray, and Banana finally calmed down. She shook off, sending bubbles and water flying everywhere. It didn’t matter. Everything in the bathroom was already soaked, including us.

  Sadie handed me the spray hose. “Maybe you should do it,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, Banana, but we have to do this,” I said as Isabel and Sadie each held on to her with both hands. “You can’t go to the parade all covered in shampoo.” I turned on the water and rinsed her off as quickly and gently as I could, while patting her with my free hand. Banana squeezed her eyes shut, wanting it to be over, but at least she stood still.

  As the last of the bubbles swirled down the drain, I turned off the water and looked around us. There was dog hair everywhere. Bathwater and soap suds dripped down the walls, making puddles on the floor. Even the bath mat and the toilet paper roll were soaked. The bathroom was a disaster zone.

  Banana shook off again, sending more droplets flying. “I’m going to get in so much trouble,” I moaned.

  “No, you’re not,” Sadie promised. “We can clean this up.”

  Isabel nodded. “We’re in this together, remember?” she said.

  Banana looked just as skeptical as I felt. I knew that if my parents saw this I’d probably never be allowed to have a sleepover again.

  Sadie stood up and took charge. She pulled a stack of towels from the bathroom cabinet, handing one to me and two to Isabel. “You dry off Banana,” she told me. “Isabel and I will take care of the rest.”

  I glanced at my sopping-wet dog. She stared back at me with huge eyes, wondering what torture was next. But when I unfolded the towel, she surprised me. Instead of backing away, Banana jumped out of the tub and lunged toward the towel, like an eager little bull charging a bullfighter’s cape. She burrowed into it, making playful growls. I rubbed her down as she spun around, turning it into a silly game.