Don't Swap Your Sweater for a Dog by Katherine Applegate Page B

“And that’s Gus and Emma.”
    â€œShake hands, Edward,” Martin said.
    Edward held up his paw.
    Gus shook it. Emma shook it. I shook it.
    Goofy licked it.
    â€œSay hello, Edward,” Martin said.
    â€œArf-arf,” Edward said.
    It was not exactly “hello,” but you could tell what he meant.
    â€œWow! Your dog is amazing,” said Emma.
    â€œI was going to enter him in the Truly Terrific Trick Contest this weekend,” Martin said. “But I have a tuba lesson.”
    â€œDo you mean the contest at the streetfair?” Emma asked. “I saw a poster for that. Kids and their dogs can enter. And the winner gets a trophy.”
    â€œA trophy?” I asked. “Really?”
    â€œDo they have a prize for Stupidest Pet Trick?” Gus asked. “I’ll bet Goof could win that one!”
    Goofy lay on his back on the sidewalk.
    I think he was ignoring Gus.
    â€œWhat’s your dog’s name?” Martin asked.
    â€œGoofy,” I said. It sounded kind of lame next to a name like Edward .
    Goofy wriggled on his back like a snake. His tongue was hanging out.
    â€œWhat’s he doing?” Martin asked.
    â€œItching,” I said.
    â€œEdward is never itchy,” Martin said. He reached into his backpack. “Watch this.”
    Martin took out a book. “Just a regular book, right?” He showed it to me. “Now read it.”
    â€œI’ve already read that,” I said.
    â€œNot you,” Martin said. “Edward.”
    I laughed. “Your dog cannot read!”
    â€œWhy not?” Martin asked.
    â€œBecause he is a dog,” I said. I said it very slowly and clearly.
    Since apparently Martin was a little crazy.
    â€œJust watch,” Martin said.
    He put the book on the ground. It was called Frog on a Log.
    â€œOpen the book, Edward,” said Martin.
    Edward put his little white poodle paw on the book.
    He pulled on the cover.
    The book flipped open.
    â€œGood dog, Edward,” Martin said. “Now read to Roscoe.”
    Edward looked at the first page. So did I.
    It said:
    Frog on a log
    in a big, dark bog.
    Edward said:
    Arf arf arf arf
    arf arf arf arf arf.
    â€œGood dog, Edward,” said Martin. “Next page.”
    Edward turned the page with his nose. I looked over his shoulder.
    The page had three words:
    Jump, frog, jump!
    Edward said:
    Arf arf arf!
    I looked at Martin.
    I looked at Edward.

    He didn’t look so silly anymore. Even with the kitty sweater.
    â€œThat dog is a genius,” I said.
    We looked at Goofy.
    He was eating an old gym sock.
    â€œYour dog is nice too,” Martin said.

7
Pandas
    I thought about Edward and that book all the next day.
    Especially when it was reading time.
    Gus and Emma and I are in the same reading group. There are six kids.
    All the groups have animal names. There are Panthers. Giraffes. And Tigers.
    Gus and Emma and I are Pandas.
    We each read two pages out loud.
    When someone else is reading, we have to follow the rules:
No talking.
No laughing if somebody makes a mistake.
No sound effects.
    Ms. Diz made up the third rule after we read our last book.
    It was called Honk! Honk! Beep! Beep!
    When we were all done, I asked Ms. Diz a question. I’d been wondering about it ever since meeting Edward.
    â€œMs. Diz,” I asked, “do you think a dog can read?”
    Ms. Diz thought for a second.
    â€œWell, I doubt it, Roscoe,” she said.“Why do you ask?”
    â€œBecause Gus and Emma and me met a dog who could read Frog on a Log. ”
    â€œHe wasn’t exactly reading, Roscoe,” Gus said. “It was more like weird barking.”
    â€œBut he barked when there was an actual word,” I said. “If we can learn to read, why can’t a dog?”
    â€œWell, Roscoe,” Ms. Diz said, “it’s not that simple. Before you can read, you need to know your letters and the sounds they make. I’ve never met a dog