Rootin' Tootin' Cow Dog Read online

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  Penguin Young Readers Group

  An Imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

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  Text copyright © 2015 by Nancy Krulik. Illustrations copyright © 2015 by Sebastien Braun. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 345 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark

  of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2014041559

  ISBN 978-0-698-41208-8

  Version_1

  For Josie B., who inspires me endlessly—NK

  To Mallory—thanks for your guidance!—SB

  Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  Fun Facts about Sparky’s Adventures in Texas

  About the Author

  About the Illustrator

  CHAPTER 1

  “Get off me!” Samson grumbles angrily. “It’s not my job to give rides!”

  Samson is the old mixed-breed who lives next door to me. I’ve never heard him so upset. I wonder what’s going on.

  I hurry over to my fence and peek at him through the holes. Samson’s two-leg is sitting in a chair. There’s a mini two-leg sitting on

  Samson’s back.

  The mini two-leg is smiling, which is something both two-legs and dogs do when they are happy.

  But Samson isn’t smiling. And he isn’t happy.

  “I said, get off!” Samson barks. He kicks his back legs in the air.

  Wham! The mini two-leg falls off his back.

  Whaaa! The mini two-leg’s not smiling anymore. She’s screaming. Whaaa!

  Samson’s two-leg starts shouting, too. I don’t understand a lot of two-leg words. But I do understand “bad dog.” And I know that means Samson is in trouble.

  Samson’s two-leg carries the mini two-leg into the house and closes the door, leaving Samson outside alone.

  “I can’t believe my two-leg yelled at me,” Samson grumbles.

  “Two-legs do that a lot,” says Frankie, the German shepherd who lives on the other side of my house.

  I guess Frankie was watching from behind his fence, too.

  “Ever since that mini two-leg came to visit, she’s been crawling on my back,” Samson explains. “It was making me nuts. So I threw her off.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Frankie says.

  “It’s not my job to carry a little two-leg around,” Samson continues. “I’m a dog, not a horse.”

  “Right,” I say. “I’ve never met a dog who had a job giving rides to two-legs.”

  Frankie laughs. “It’s not like you’ve met that many dogs, Sparky,” he says. “You only hang out with Samson and me.”

  Frankie always thinks he knows everything. But I know something he doesn’t know: I have met lots of dogs. And I can meet new dogs any time I want. All I need is my magic bone. The one I have buried under the flowers in my yard.

  My magic bone is a secret. No one knows about it. Not Frankie or Samson or even my two-leg, Josh. Of course, I couldn’t tell Josh about the magic bone, even if I wanted to. I don’t speak two-leg. And Josh doesn’t speak dog.

  My magic bone is amazing. One big bite and kaboom! I go far, far away. One time my magic bone kaboomed me all the way to Tokyo, Japan. I got to eat squishy fishy called sashimi with some Ninja Dogs. They had a cool job—protecting the statue of a famous Japanese Akita named Hachiko

  And then there was the time my bone kaboomed me all the way to Zermatt, Switzerland. I met a Saint Bernard there named Lena. I helped her save some two-legs who were stuck on a mountain during a snowstorm. Now Lena saves two-legs all the time. That’s a really important job.

  The Ninja Dogs and Lena work really hard. But I never see Frankie or Samson working.

  “Do you have a job?” I ask Samson.

  Samson thinks for a minute. “Well, I guess it’s my job to get my two-leg his slippers,” he says.

  “What are slippers?” I ask him.

  “The things two-legs put over their paws when they walk around the house,” Samson explains.

  “Josh just walks around in his bare paws in our house,” I tell Samson.

  “Lucky you,” Frankie tells me. “That’s one less job you have to do. I have two jobs. I have to get my two-leg his slippers and his newspaper.”

  “What is a newspaper?” I ask Frankie.

  “It’s a bunch of rolled-up paper that’s always on our grass in the morning,” Frankie tells me. “It’s my job to fetch it and bring it inside. I don’t know why my two-leg makes me do that, because he always gets mad when I bring it back with tooth marks or spit on it.”

  “That’s not your fault,” I tell Frankie. “Mouths have teeth and spit.”

  “I know,” Frankie says. “If he doesn’t want bite marks and spit on his newspaper, he shouldn’t make me fetch it.”

  Frankie and Samson sound angry with their two-legs. But I am never angry with mine. Josh is the best. He plays fetch with me. He feeds me. And he knows exactly where to scratchity, scratch, scratch when I’m itchy.

  Samson lets out a yawn. “All this talk about working is making me tired. I think I’ll take a nap in the sun.”

  “Sounds great to me,” Frankie agrees.

  “Me too,” I say.

  “What are you tired from?” Frankie asks me. “You don’t have a job. You’re just a puppy.”

  “Enjoy it while you can,” Samson tells me. “When you grow up, your two-leg will expect you to do jobs for him.”

  “And if you don’t, he might get a dog who will instead,” Frankie adds.

  “Leave the puppy alone,” Samson tells Frankie. “You’re scaring him.”

  I’ll say. I don’t want Josh to get another dog.

  I lie down on the cool, wet grass and close my eyes.

  But I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about what Frankie said.

  I don’t want Josh to get a new dog. I have to learn a job. But what can

  I do?

  Josh doesn’t wear slippers.

  There’s never a paper on our lawn.

  Josh doesn’t get lost in the snow.

  And he doesn’t have a statue I can guard.

  I can’t thinkety, think, think of a thing that I can do around here.

  I don’t want to think anymore. I want to play. Or better yet . . . I want to dig. That’s my favorite thing to do!

  I race over to Josh’s flower bed.

  Diggety, dig, dig. Dirt flies everywhere. I’m digging a deep, deep hole. Diggety, dig . . .

  There it is! My bone. My bright, beautiful, sparkly magic bone. Sitting right in the middle of my hole.

  Sniffe
ty, sniff, sniff. My bone smells good. Like chicken, beef, and sausage all rolled into one.

  I just have to take a bite . . . CHOMP !

  Wiggle, waggle, whew. I feel dizzy—like my insides are spinning all around—but my outsides are standing still. Stars are twinkling in front of my eyes—even though it’s daytime! All around me I smell food—fried chicken, salmon, roast beef. But there isn’t any food in sight.

  Kaboom! Kaboom! Kaboom!

  CHAPTER 2

  Owie, ow, ow! Something just stung my butt.

  The kabooming has stopped. I’m definitely not in my yard anymore. My yard has soft grass. But the only thing under my paws here is dry, rocky dirt.

  It was warm in my yard. But here it’s really hot.

  There aren’t any stinger-thingers in my yard. But here . . . Owie,

  ow, ow!

  I turn around. There’s a strange bush behind me. It doesn’t have soft green leaves like the bushes in my yard. Its leaves are sharp. And they hurt when you back into them. I’m not sure I’m going to like this place.

  I have to bury my bone to keep it safe while I go exploring. I don’t want some other dog stealing my bone. I’m going to need it when it’s time for me to go home.

  So I start digging. Diggety, dig, dig. Dry dirt and little rocks fly all over the place. My hole is getting bigger and bigger. And deeper and deeper. I wonder if hole digging could be a job.

  Probably not. Sometimes Josh gets mad when I dig too many holes in our yard.

  But there’s no one here to get mad. So I diggety, dig, dig some more. Then I drop my bone into the hole and push the dirt back over it.

  A warm wind blows. I smell food! Meaty two-leg food. Yummy, yum, yum! I’d sure like some!

  Sniffety, sniff, sniff. I’m following my nose. My nose is smart. It knows where to find meat.

  Come on, paws. Walk faster. I’m hungry!

  There are two-legs to the right of me. And there are two-legs to the left of me.

  There are two-legs all around me!

  I don’t know where I am. But I know it’s crowded. There are four-legs here, too. I can smell them. And I can see their paw prints in the dirt.

  But I’m not interested in any legs right now. I’m interested in food. And I smell plenty of that! But I’ll never get to it. Not with all these two-legs blocking my path.

  “Move, two-legs!” I bark.

  Wiggle, waggle, wow! These two-legs must speak dog. Because they all begin to move away from me. Some go to the right. Some go to the left.

  They’ve left me a clear path to the food. “Thank you, two-legs!” I bark.

  NEIGH!

  I turn around and see a white horse. He has a two-leg on his back. Right. Like Samson said, giving rides to two-legs is a horse’s job.

  NEIGH! NEIGH! NEIGH! NEIGH! NEIGH!

  Uh-oh! Now there’s not just one horse. There are five of them. They’re all running this way, side by side, and taking up the whole path.

  NEIGH! NEIGH!

  Cling clang!

  Boom. Boom.

  Uh-oh! Now it’s not just horses coming up behind me. There’s also a huge red metal machine with big round paws.

  And a group of two-legs banging on things that make loud noises.

  They’re coming fast. And it doesn’t look like they’re stopping!

  “Get out of the way! The Grand Entrance Parade is coming your way!”

  Suddenly I hear a dog. I look around to see a Blue Lacy calling to me. He’s between a bunch of two-leg legs.

  “You’d better move it! Those horses will trample you!” he yells.

  He’s right. I have to get out of the way. But there’s nowhere to go. Two-legs are standing on both sides of the path. They are all squeezed together. They haven’t left any room for me.

  “Come on!” he shouts. “I’ll make room.”

  The Blue Lacy is crazy. There’s no room for me in that crowd.

  Suddenly, the Blue Lacy picks up his leg and lets out a big stream of yellow water. The two-legs standing around him push and shove at one another to get out of the way.

  Now there’s a big space for me to stand.

  “Thanks,” I say as I race over to him.

  “What were you thinking?” the Blue Lacy asks me. “Why would you walk right in the path of the parade that opens the rodeo?”

  “Opens the what-ee-o?” I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  The Blue Lacy cocks his head. “You mean you’ve never been to a rodeo?”

  I shake my head.

  “Yeehaw! Your first rodeo,” he says. “Welcome, pardner!”

  “My name’s not Pardner,” I tell him. “It’s Sparky.”

  The Blue Lacy laughs at that. “Howdy, Sparky,” he says. “I’m Rex.”

  “Hi, Rex,” I say.

  “Welcome to the rodeo, Sparky,” Rex says. “The greatest place on earth!”

  “Can’t be,” I tell him.

  “Why not?” Rex asks.

  “Josh’s house is the greatest place on earth,” I explain. “Because that’s where Josh is.”

  “Does Josh’s house have events like cow roping and bull riding?” Rex asks.

  I shake my head. I don’t think so. I don’t even know what those are.

  “Does Josh’s house have a midway where you can find food, rides, and games?” Rex asks.

  “We have food,” I say.

  “Not like rodeo food,” Rex insists. “There’s nothing like Texas barbecue.”

  Rex sure talks strange. “What-zas what-ee-cue?” I ask him.

  Rex gives me a funny look. “Texas,” he says. “The Lone Star State?”

  I shake my head. I really don’t know what he’s talking about.

  “I’m not sure where you’re from,” Rex says, “but you’re in Texas now. And barbecue is this meat that’s cooked . . . well . . . I can’t describe it. You just have to taste it.”

  Taste. Now that’s something I understand.

  “I’d love to,” I tell Rex.

  “Okay, pardner,” Rex says. “Follow me over yonder to the midway!”

  I think about telling Rex my name is Sparky, again. And I think about asking him what a midway is. But I figure it’s probably better to just follow him. Because Rex is going where the food is, and that’s exactly where I want to be.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Yummy, yum, yum!” I exclaim a few minutes later as I swallow some sweet blue sticky stuff I found on the ground. The food that’s on the ground is for dogs. That’s the rule in my house. I guess it’s the rule here, too, because Rex just gobbled up some of the sticky stuff.

  “Cotton candy is delicious,” Rex says. “Two-legs are really sloppy eaters. Which means more for us.”

  I see something bright red on the ground. It looks really good. So I grab it with my mouth. Yummy, yum, yum! This is sweet and sticky. My tail likes it, too. It starts wagging all around. Which is strange, since my tail doesn’t have a mouth. It can’t taste anything.

  “You like that candy apple, huh?” Rex asks me.

  “Iff defishes . . .” I’m trying to say it’s delicious, but my teeth are stuck together. I wiggle my snout, trying to unstick myself.

  Rex laughs and reaches his nose up in the air. “I smell barbecue with all the fixin’s,” he tells me. “Let’s go get some!”

  I follow Rex through the crowd of two-legs. A meaty bone! CHOMP! I take a big bite. Soft, chewy meat falls off the bone and fills my mouth. Sweet, sticky sauce slides down my throat.

  “This is amazing,” I say.

  “Rootin’ tootin’ right,” Rex says. “Texas barbecue is the best barbecue there is!”

  I look down at the ground, hoping to find another bone. There isn’t one. But there is something else that looks tasty. It’s
bright red. Just like that yummy, yum, yum candy apple.

  I open my mouth . . .

  “Sparky,” Rex shouts. “Don’t eat the chili . . .”

  CHOMP!

  “. . . pepper!”

  “Owie, ow, ow!” I don’t know what this is. But it’s not a candy apple. It’s not sweet at all. It’s hot and spicy. Really hot and spicy. My mouth is burning.

  I need water. Lots and lots of water.

  I spot a group of two-legs standing around a big water bowl. One of the two-legs is filling small bowls with water from the big one.

  I need that water. And I need it now.

  My paws run to the big water bowl. Fast. Faster. Fastest!

  My paws are running so fast my fur flies in my eyes. I can’t see where I’m going. But I keep running. Fast. Faster . . .

  I take a flying leap. SPLASH! I dive right into the giant water bowl.

  Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.

  Hey! This doesn’t taste like water. It’s too sweet. And too sour.

  But it’s cool and wet. And it stops my mouth from burning.

  AAAAHHHH! My mouth starts to smile. It feels better.

  But the two-legs aren’t smiling. They look angry. And wet. Some of the sweet-and-sour water splashed on them.

  The two-legs are yelling now. They’re stomping their paws.

  Those are some strange-looking paws. They have points on the ends.

  I’ve never seen paws like that. Then again, I’ve never seen two-legs with upside-down food bowls on their heads, either. But that’s what these two-legs are wearing.

  “I’m sorry,” I bark. “I couldn’t see where I was going.”

  One of the pointy-pawed two-legs reaches out and grabs me.

  Oh no. I know what can happen when a two-leg grabs you. They take you to the pound! It happened to me once when my bone kaboomed me to London.

  Wiggle, wiggle, jiggle, jiggle, whee! I slip out of his paws.