How to Steal a Dog by Barbara O'Connor Page B

signs about the lost dog, take him back to his owner, get the money, and you are done.
    BUT
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    I drew a big circle around the word BUT. . Then I wrote:
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    If there are no signs, you will have to find the owner of the dog and help them make some signs.

    While you are doing that, you will have to practice looking nice and not like a dog thief .
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    Remember to take real good care of the dog so he won’t be hungry or sad or anything.
    THEN
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    I circled the word THEN and under that I wrote:
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    You will have to wait and see what happens next.
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    I stared down at my notes. I read the last sentence out loud.
    After thinking and worrying half the night, I decided that’s what I’d do, just wait and see what happened next.

13
    I don’t know what made me do it. I just couldn’t stop myself. I watched Toby walk down the hall and into his classroom, and then I turned and went right back out the front door. I hurried up the sidewalk and ducked around the side of the school building. When the buses pulled away from the curb and all the kids had gone inside, I started running and didn’t stop till I was way on up toward the highway. My backpack bounced against me as I hurried along the side of the road.
    I had to see Willy. I just had to.
    I turned down the gravel road that led to the old house. I kept my mind on what I had to do (see Willy) instead of what I had just done (hightailed it out of school).
    When I got to the house, I took my backpack off and tossed it on the front porch. Then I pushed through the pricker bushes toward the back of the house. Just as I reached the corner, I heard something that made me stop in my tracks. Singing. Somebody was in back of the house, singing!

    I jumped into the bushes and ducked down, my heart pounding like nobody’s business.
    The singing stopped. I held my breath. A man’s voice called out, “Are you scared of me or should I be scared of you?”
    I knelt in the damp earth and squeezed my eyes shut. My thoughts were jumping around between being scared and trying to figure out what to do. Maybe I could crawl through the thick brush and back out to the road. I pushed a branch aside and flinched when the sound of rustling leaves broke the silence. Willy let out a bark.
    â€œI ain’t scared of a coward who won’t even show his face,” the man called out toward the bushes.
    I lifted my head the tiniest little bit to peer through the leaves. A man was sitting on a log beside the back porch! I ducked down. I tried to crawl away from the house toward the path to the road, but a tangle of wild blackberry bushes blocked the way.
    â€œThis your dog?” the man called.
    I scrambled to think what to do. Should I jump up and run? Should I call out something?
    â€œMe and this dog are just sittin’ here sharing sardines,” the man said. “You want some?”
    I pushed some branches down and peered out. Sure enough, there was Willy, sitting on the bottom step of the porch, licking a paper plate. The man stood up and walked a few steps in my direction. I ducked back down.

    â€œI reckon you and me must think alike,” he called toward the bushes. “Never drop your gun to hug a grizzly bear, I always say.”
    I crawled a few feet along the ground, trying to get a better view of the man.
    â€œBut you don’t have to worry, ’cause I ain’t no grizzly,” he said. “You think this little ole dog here would eat sardines with a grizzly?”
    Then for the second time that day, I just up and did something without thinking. I stood up, pulled the branches aside, and said, “His name is Willy.”
    The man looked in my direction. “Well now, I do declare,” he said. “I sure am glad you ain’t a grizzly, neither.”
    I stepped out of the bushes and Willy started wagging his tail and kind of prancing with his front legs. The man chuckled.
    â€œNow that’s some tail