The Good, the Bad & the Beagle by Catherine Lloyd Burns Page A

was a vibrant wonderland of autumn oranges, yellows, and reds. A playland of tunnels and bridges and hills and pathways, perfect for frolicking. Veronica threw sticks and she and Cadbury chased them. When Cadbury ran, his ears flew out like the wings of an airplane.
    Veronica, the citiest of all city kids, felt like a fairy-tale nymph. The chipmunks, the squirrels, and the birds—all the little forest creatures were her friends today. The rays of sun, the moss and the ferns, the wooded paths, they all felt like part of her.
    She was having such a wonderful time she didn’t realize that Cricket Cohen and Heidi Keefe were coming right at her from McGowan’s Pass.
    “Veronica!” Cricket called. Veronica was out in the open; there was no way to avoid them or to pretend she hadn’t heard. She held Cadbury’s leash tightly and walked toward them.
    “Hi,” Veronica said, “what are you guys doing?”
    “We just came from the rocks. We were hiding treasures,” Heidi said.
    How perfect. The rocks were supposed to be their secret workshop. She and Cricket had pretended to be jewelers in that crevice since they were four years old.
    “Is that your dog?” Heidi asked.
    “Veronica doesn’t have a dog,” Cricket said. “Is that Fitzy?”
    “Actually, this is my dog,” Veronica said. She enjoyed knowing something about herself that her old friend—who thought she knew everything—did not.
    “You got a dog? Oh my gosh!” Cricket squealed.
    Her mother arrived, huffing and puffing. She was clearly disturbed to be walking around in the dirt in her heels.
    “Cricket, I have been hysterical. Do not take off like that. Hello, Veronica.”
    “Mommy, Veronica got a dog!”
    “Well, I hardly think that is any reason to scream like a maniac. How are you enjoying Rudolf?” Mrs. Cohen asked.
    “Randolf, Mom,” Cricket said.
    “It’s good,” Veronica answered. Why did parents never know the names of things?
    Cadbury licked Cricket’s leg. “It tickles!” she cried. She couldn’t stop laughing.
    “Cricket,” Mrs. Cohen said, rummaging through her bag in desperate search for a wipe, “you don’t know where that dog’s mouth has been.”
    Cadbury turned to Mrs. Cohen and began licking her leg.
    “No!” Mrs. Cohen said. “Stop that, I don’t care for you. Stop.”
    The girls tried to suppress their laughter as Veronica pulled Cadbury away. But he was fixated on Mrs. Cohen and her ankle. Mrs. Cohen announced that she would wait for Cricket and Heidi on the benches and stormed off, her heels puncturing the mud with every step.
    Veronica felt bad for Cricket. It was one thing to have a mom who always embarrassed you by generally being far too enthusiastic and emotional about everything. Mrs. Morgan cried at the drop of a hat. But it must be even worse to have a mother who never seemed to enjoy anything, not even her own daughter.
    The girls said awkward goodbyes. Cricket and Heidi went east, Veronica and Cadbury went west. Veronica had imagined Cricket replacing her with someone else. And in her imagination it hurt. But today she faced that reality and it wasn’t so bad.
    *   *   *
    When they got home, Bach cantatas filled the apartment. Cadbury ran through the house and into the living room. He jumped on Veronica’s father’s lap, knocking the book he was reading to the floor.
    “Did you have a nice bowel movement in the park today?” he said, and rubbed Cadbury’s belly.
    “Come peel carrots with me, lovey,” her mother called from the kitchen.
    “I will, but I have to do something first,” Veronica said, and ran to her room.
    Cadbury jumped off the couch and followed.
    Veronica kept a collection of clear plastic boxes on a high shelf above her desk. They were many different colors and shapes. The afternoon sunlight spilled through them casting a rainbow on her wall. She’d never known what to do with them until now. She climbed up on her desk and set her hand on the purple one, which happened to