everywhere. In time, Rumps got the hang of it and made his way to the bowl without knocking everything over.
Rumps had never had it so good. He ate every bit of the food that was given to him. As the weeks went by Rumps learned to run to his bowl every time Brian came into the house. As the months went by Rumps no longer dashed to the bowl, but rather waddled to the bowl as any plump dog would. And if it’s true that a dog looks like its owner, then clearly Rumps had been put on this earth to be with Brian, his friend and master.
“Come here,” Brian called as he clapped his hands at Rumps. “I’ve got a treat for you.” Brian rolled over on the bed and reached into his nightstand and out of it came, as if it were magic, a bag of candy-coated peanuts. Rumps sat at the foot of the bed panting, ears high, tail wagging, and tongue hanging. He had seen these treats before—many times before. As a matter of fact, Brian and Rumps shared something to eat every night. All Rumps had to do was lift himself up just a little bit on his hind legs, stick his tongue out, and the treat was his. Though it was difficult at Rumps’s size to do such a strenuous trick, he did so every night. Night after night, for his best friend, Brian.
Brian lay on the bed, stomach down, as he hurled the candies one-by-one into Rumps’s gaping mouth. With each toss Rumps received the treats with great enthusiasm, knowing that there was more for the begging.
“Good boy,” Brian praised. “Good boy. Here, want another one? Whoops, go get it! It’s over there in the corner.” Rumps scampered to retrieve the sloppily thrown treasure that awaited him on the floor in the corner of the room. “Good dog,” Brian mumbled, having gobbled a handful while Rumps was getting his treat. And with two final tosses, one into Rumps’s mouth and one into Brian’s, the game was over.
“Here. See, Rumps,” said Brian, his palms extended in front of him so that Rumps could see them. “All gone.” Rumps cocked his head one more time and with ears raised higher than ever before, gave Brian his famous “what’s going on?” look. If Rumps could have talked, Brian would have heard him say, “Just open your magic drawer, Brian. I know there’s more in there. Come on, let’s not stop now, I’m having too much fun.” As if Brian knew what Rumps was thinking, he said aloud, “No more tonight, Rumps. There’ll be more tomorrow.”
You can’t let dogs have too much candy, Brian said to himself. All that stuff’s not good for him. Brian stood up with the empty candy bag still in his hand.
“Well, Rumps, where should I hide the candy bag? We don’t want anybody to find out what’s going on up here with our stash drawer of candy treats. If they find the empty bag they’ll know for sure . . . . Let’s see,” he said with a puzzled look on his face. A moment later he exclaimed, “I know, I’ll put it inside my school book. No one will find it there. On my way to school, I’ll just throw it away. What do you think of that, Rumps?”
Rumps gave him an approving look as Brian walked over to his books. He flattened out the candy bag, opened his English book, and placed the bag neatly between the pages.
“There, Rumps,” Brian giggled aloud, “no one will ever know it’s . . .” At that moment there was a knock on the door.
“Brian, can I come in?”
“Just a second, Mom.” Brian slammed the book tightly over the candy wrapper. Brian hid his candy wrappers all over his room so his mother wouldn’t find them. Rumps skidded his way over the hardwood floor and went crashing into the door where the sound of the knock had come from. Recovering from his tumble immediately, Rumps sat panting and waited for the arrival of the visitor.
“Come on in, Mom. Sorry, I was just finishing getting dressed.”
Brian had already put on his favorite oversized T-shirt and sweatpants when he had first walked in his room. But he couldn’t tell his mom what he was really doing. It’s not much of a lie, he thought to himself. She doesn’t really care anyway.
Brian’s mom walked in and sat at his desk in the only chair in the room. It made a groaning, creaking noise as she settled into the chair.
“Well, Brian, tomorrow is Saturday and let’s make it your day. Let’s celebrate your report card. So what would you like to do? The usual?”
“YEAH,” Brian exclaimed. “Yeah!”
“First, we’ll go have some breakfast with all your favorites—biscuits, sausage, and pancakes with lots of syrup. And then we’ll go play miniature golf.”
Brian loved to play miniature golf. He didn’t have to move very fast. He never got a chance to play football, basketball, or baseball because he spent most of his time sitting on the bench.
“Maybe we can go to that new restaurant on the other side of the hill. You know the one with the big kettle pot in front. I believe it’s called The Brass Kettle. What do you think about that?”
“Is it any good? Do they serve a lot of food?” Brian asked.
“Brian,” his mother said with a tone of exasperation. “Just because a restaurant serves a lot of food doesn’t mean that it’s good.”
“Well, I’d rather go to Herb’s Hamburgers anyway. They’ve got those giant double-thick hamburgers with cheese. Plus I’m dying for a chocolate shake. I’ve been thinking about their chocolate shakes all week long.” Brian’s mother laughed aloud.
“Well, it’s your day, and you can have whatever you want.”
“Thanks, Mom. Thanks a lot.”
“Come on, get in bed. It’s getting late.” Brian climbed into bed. He rolled onto his squeaking bed and settled in for the night.
“Sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite,” his mom said as she waddled down the hall. Brian could hear her heavy footsteps as she lumbered down the stairs.
“Good night, Mom,” he called after her.
Just as his mother promised, Brian had his special day on Saturday. His father didn’t go with them as he’d said he would. He had a real bad headache and said that he needed to spend the day relaxing on the couch. Madison was nowhere to be found, but that didn’t bother Brian. It wasn’t her grades that earned the special day, so why should she have the fun that goes along with it?
In spite of his father’s absence, Brian still had a great time. He was accustomed to spending most of his time with his mom anyway. They were pals and there was no taking that away from him.
Конец
