Fenway and Hattie by Victoria J. Coe Page B

Sit! Sit!”
    I nuzzle her hand in a desperate attempt to open it. “I’m so ready! I’m so ready!” I bark.
    Next thing I know, the One Human is hovering beside us. She smells like lots of dogs and treats, but she also smells serious. And her voice is bossy. Hattie is completely focused on her. The One Human finishes speaking, and Hattie nods.
    Then, with no warning at all, Hattie turns. She stares into my eyes, takes a deep breath, and holds her fist right over my nose. “Sit,” she demands. Her voice is full of conviction.
    Whoa, she wants me to do something. But what? Her posture reminds me of that time when I sat and theOne Human gave me a treat. I plop down on my bum, my gaze never leaving her fist. When it opens, I’m not going to miss the yummy snack.
    Hattie bounces up and down. “Yes!” she shouts. And just like that, the treat falls into my mouth.
    Chomp!
Wowee, is it ever tasty! I’m crunching and munching that meaty morsel in a state of pure happiness that ends all too quickly.
    Hattie smiles at the One Human, who pats her shoulder.
    â€œMore, please!” I bark.
    Hattie holds another treat above my nose. “Stay!” she orders, then takes a step back.
    Hey, I’m not going anywhere.
    â€œYes!” she shouts again, and a wonderful treat sails into my mouth.
    Chomp!
Oh boy! It’s just as yummy as the last one. It’s another blissful moment of crunching and munching that I wish would never end.
    Fetch Man and Food Lady are grinning. They pat Hattie on the back. Hattie smells proud. Like she won a competition. Or a battle.
    They must be awfully happy that I finally got some food. And they’re not the only ones. My belly is on fire. I can hardly wait for more.
    Hattie is totally distracted by Fetch Man and Food Lady, which can only mean one thing—opportunity.
    I sniff my way over to Hattie’s backpack. My nose tells me it’s stuffed full with treats. And it’s right behind her on the floor!
    I thrust my entire head inside. Wowee, this thing sure is loaded. I knew it!
    Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
I’m wolfing the treats one after another after another. I can’t stop. And why would I want to? There are enough treats here to last forever. I’m in a bagful of Dog Heaven!
    â€œFEN-way!” Hattie yells.
    Ouch!
My collar is tugging at my neck, pulling me right out of the backpack. “Hey, what’d you do that for?” I bark, wiggling to get free.
    Hattie’s face is frowning. Her shoulders are heaving. She’s struggling to breathe. Big fat tears start sliding down her cheek. Something tells me that treat time is over.

Bright morning light assaults my face. My eyes pop open.
    I dig my front paws into the floor and stretch waaaaay back. I walk my hind legs in and thrust my chest waaaaay out. I look around.
    Hey, I’m not in Hattie’s bed! I’m in that same boring room from yesterday. Did I sleep in here again?
    I trot over to the door, and there’s more bad news. It’s blocked by The Gate. What’d I do to deserve this? Where is Hattie?
    I try to remember . . . riding home in the car, Hattie gazing out the window . . . bossing me up here, clicking The Gate . . .
    I give a little yelp. The memories are almost tooagonizing. Another night all alone, curled up on the hard, wooden floor. What happened to my bedtime fur brushing? Hattie’s sweet voice singing “best buddies, best buddies”? Or the soft, comfy blankets that smell like mint and vanilla? Are they gone for good?
    One thing’s for sure—this is not how it’s supposed to be. I have to do something. I have to get My Hattie back.
    I position myself at The Gate. “Hattie! Hattie!” I bark as loud as I can. “Please help me! I’m trapped, and I have to get out!” I add an extra howl or two to make my point.
    But when I stop, all I hear is quiet. I start to think that