“Are you okay?” the new woman kept asking Samantha.

  “I’m okay,” Samantha replied woodenly each time. She was petting me rapidly now, stroking my head with shaking fingers.

  Ben was intently watching the new woman. “Seems like your daughter and Ripley have bonded,” he observed with an easy smile.

  The new woman grinned back gratefully. “Yes, thank you. Whose puppy is it?”

  Ben chuckled. “Until a little more than an hour ago, he was supposed to be a guide dog for the blind, but he flunked out before they even started—I guess they call it career-changed. So now he works for the fire department.”

  I noticed Roxie’s eyes widen a little, staring at Ben, but he was still talking. “I’m just not in uniform today. I took the day off to go pick up this little guy.”

  Roxie’s expression was skeptical. “Does Lieutenant Hutchins know about the dog?”

  “It’s okay. I cleared it with the captain.”

  Roxie shook her head. “That’s not what I asked. Does Hutch know?”

  Ben smiled at her. “Yah, well, I just told him.”

  “Huh,” Roxie replied. “What did he say?”

  Ben’s smile faltered a little. “Okay, he didn’t exactly endorse the idea.”

  “Ben. Ripley’s not going to be a fire station dog. Hutch will never let that happen.”

  The humans all seemed oddly troubled, which made no sense to me. The day was full of smoke dancing on cool breezes, there were all sorts of things to smell and chew, and I was here to play with everyone. Also, I was getting tired of being held so tight. I wiggled and began to nibble on a strand of Samantha’s hair. It tasted smoky and very interesting.

  “Yah,” Ben finally said to Roxie. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “How are you doing, Samantha?” the new woman asked. “Do you want to call Mrs. Middleton?”

  “I’m okay, Mom,” Samantha replied in a low voice. She had called the woman Mom often enough that I figured out it was her name.

  The people talked, and gradually Samantha’s arms relaxed, her heart stopped beating so loudly, and she even smiled at me. “Can I play with Ripley outside?” she asked timidly.

  “You betcha!” Ben agreed easily.

  We jumped down out of the car and Samantha put me down in the grass. Finally! I shook myself hard after being held so tightly.

  Then I attacked Samantha’s shoes, found a stick and carried it around, and showed it to Samantha. She understood how to play Tug, so we did that until the stick broke. Then, to my delight, I located a plastic toy buried in the grass. I dug it up and let Samantha pull it away from me so she could throw it. Then I pounced on it and chewed it to bits, the sharp little pieces sticking to my tongue.

  A shadow loomed over me and Ben scooped me up.

  “Walk with me to my car,” he suggested to the woman named Mom. “Roxie can stay here with Samantha a little longer.”

  With a puzzled look on her face, Mom nodded, and the three of us left the backyard. Ben carried me but not Mom.

  “Seems like this was a tough experience for Samantha,” Ben said. “I’m curious as to why she was home.”

  Mom eyed him shrewdly. “You mean home alone? Is that what you’re asking?”

  Ben reluctantly nodded. Mom sighed. “Well, Samantha’s suffered from anxiety since … I should tell you that her father died in a car accident a few years ago. She was in the car with him. She’s homeschooled because going to school is just … too much. Mrs. Middleton, her therapist, is worried that Samantha’s getting too dependent on me. For a while it was so bad I couldn’t even be in a different room for more than a few minutes.”

  Since I was being held so tightly in Ben’s arms, I decided to lick them. His soft, short hairs tickled my tongue.

  “Yah,” Ben told Mom. “I think I get it.”

  Mom nodded. “I’ve been taking quick trips, gradually increasing the time away. Today the idea was for me to make a fast visit to the store. I was only gone for about forty-five minutes. I’m not sure”—she gestured back behind us, to the smoky house—“what happened in that time.”

  “Lieutenant Hutchins thinks something was left on the stove and boiled dry and then ignited. That’s not uncommon. Especially when I’m the one cooking, don’tcha know.” Ben grinned.

  Mom didn’t smile back. “Oh, my.” She briefly closed her eyes. “I set some stew on the stove in a pot and forgot all about it. This is my fault.”

  “Do you think your daughter is…” Ben trailed off.

  “Traumatized? This couldn’t have been worse.” Mom sounded and smelled almost as upset as Samantha. Would she need to hold me too? I was willing, if it was truly important. But honestly, it’s hard work being held and staying still when you want to run, and I’d already done a lot of being held today.

  “I’m trying to do what Mrs. Middleton said and gradually introduce her to the notion that she can be left alone safely,” Mom went on. “And then there’s a fire.”

  “So, you work from home, then?” Ben inquired.

  “Yes, which is fortunate, because of Samantha.”

  “Yah, that probably wouldn’t be easy for me.”

  Mom smiled. “Not too many stay-at-home firefighters,” she speculated.

  “I’ll ask my captain about it. Maybe start a pilot program. So what do you do from home?”

  “I’m a ghostwriter.”

  Ben blinked. “So … haunted houses?”

  Mom laughed. “No, I write books that are published under other people’s names. I just finished one on yoga. Before that it was dog training, and before that a woman pilot who crashed in the mountains and had to find her way back through the wilderness.”

  “Maybe you could write my life story! As soon as I have one, anyway,” Ben suggested. “So, when you do a whole book about yoga, does that mean you become a yoga expert?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Well, to be an expert in yoga, you have to practice it nearly every day. I do occasionally go online for a class, but that’s it. You’re reminding me I should get back to doing that. I’m between assignments right now, so I have plenty of free time.”

  “What about dog training?” Ben asked. He sounded very interested in Mom, even though she didn’t have any treats that I could smell. “Did you have to become an expert for that book?”

  “Well, expert?” Mom shook her head. “I certainly know all the basics and have a good idea of what’s required, especially when you have some problem behaviors. But there’s a difference between writing about something and actually doing it.”

  I squirmed again. If we were going to just stand around, I couldn’t think of any reason why Ben shouldn’t let me chase one of the butterflies I saw flitting from flower to flower in some bushes.

  “I wonder if the universe, or at least a pan full of stew on the stove, is trying to tell me something,” Ben mused. “A while ago I lined up a dog trainer to teach the basics to the puppy I was planning to get, plus do some dog sitting. But I guess she met someone in New York on a trip and now she’s moving there, so…” He gave Mom a hopeful smile. “My plan was to take the next couple of days to find someone. Do you think you…?”

  Ben and Mom were smiling at each other even though they weren’t paying me any attention. Then Mom frowned. “But like I said … I’ve never actually trained a dog before.”

  “How hard can it be?” Ben replied with an easy grin. “Ripley’s a border collie—very smart, smarter than me.”

  “All right,” Mom agreed thoughtfully. “I’m certainly willing to give it a try, especially because of how much Samantha enjoyed holding Ripley.”

  Mom turned and looked back toward where people were still trooping in and out of the open front door. I wanted to go play with them if Mom and Ben were going to go on being so dull. “I guess I’ll look for a new place to rent. One that allows dogs,” she said with a sigh.

  Ben smiled. “That’s great. At the fire department, we work twenty-four-hour shifts on and then have forty-eight hours off. On my days off I work for my dad at a car dealership. It’s a pretty loose schedule. I already told my dad I’m going to need time off to train Ripley to be a fire station dog, and he’s all for it.”

  “Give me a week or two,” Mom responded, “to find a new place and move in.” She sighed. “I hate moving. But then, yes, it’s a deal.”

  We left Mom and got back in Ben’s car. It was so fun to jump back and forth between the seats. “Ripley, do you ever stop moving?” Ben demanded. “It’s a short trip. Are you really going to make me put you back in the crate, for Pete’s sake?”

  I wagged because he was talking to me.

  The car started moving and I felt like I wanted to sit still for a while because of the funny feeling that created inside me. “Thank goodness,” Ben muttered, glancing over at me as he held on to a big ring that looked like a nice chew toy.

  After a little while, we arrived at a place Ben called home. It was wonderful!

  There was carpet and I dug at it. Then I squatted on it. Ben shouted “No!” and took me out into the lush grasses of the backyard, which had birds in it, so I chased them, but then they flew up into the trees, so I bit at some bushes. Then ran in a big circle, jumped on Ben, who was sitting there laughing at me, and found a wonderful toy.

  “Not the hose,” Ben objected, pulling it out of my mouth.

  This set the pattern for the next several days. I ran in circles in the house and the backyard, I dug up dirt and grass and squirmy bugs called worms, and I chewed a lot of things. Ben pulled some of them from my mouth while he talked to me. “Not my hiking shoes, Ripley!” “Stop, that’s my tie.” “Ripley, let the cushion alone.” “Not the remote, Ripley!”

  Sometimes my chewing games turned into chasing games, and that was very fun indeed.

  I could always tell when Ben wanted me to be serious because he would talk to me in low tones. When he talked like that, he often wore a pouch on his belt, and in that pouch was my food. He would hand a piece of food to me and then click a toy that he held between his fingers. Soon I understood that if he clicked, I would get a treat.

  What I did not know is how to get a click. I decided I needed to find out.

  Three

  A few days later Ben and I were outside in the glorious sunshine. The trees gently rattled their leaves. Bugs and breezes battled for my attention, but I was trying to watch Ben because he had that pouch and I knew there were treats inside it. He also wore a hat and a smile.

  We were in the driveway, playing a perplexing game called Down. On his knees, Ben would pat the cement and say the word down over and over while I watched him in befuddlement. I didn’t know much about this Down business, but he had a turkey treat in his fist, which I felt was what we should actually be dealing with.

  I snapped my head up at the sound and odor of a boy running along the sidewalk. He was younger and smaller than Samantha, wearing pants that smelled like chicken, and as he panted the scent on his breath was sugary. The boy ran straight up to Ben as if he knew about the turkey treat.

  “Are you the fireman?” the boy asked breathlessly as he skidded to a halt.

  Ben stood. “Yah, for sure, I’m Ben Gustafson. What’s your name?”

  The boy swallowed, still having trouble catching his breath. “Morey.”

  “Is something wrong, Morey? Is something on fire?” Ben asked gently.

  The boy shook his head. “My sister Kathy got bit.”

  “What do you mean? By a dog?”

  “No,” the boy explained. “It’s a raccoon. It just came out of the bushes and ran up to Kathy and bit her.”

  I glanced sharply at Ben as he stiffened. Something important seemed to be going on, and that treat was still tucked away inside his fist. “Take me,” he instructed tersely.

  Well, I didn’t really understand what we were doing, but both Ben and the boy were alarmed, so I forgot about the turkey in Ben’s hand for the moment and concentrated on staying with the two of them as they raced down the sidewalk. We turned at the corner and the boy ran up to the front door of a house and pushed it open. “Mom!” the boy yelled. “He was home!”

  I sensed and smelled the worry pouring off a woman who came out of the kitchen, wringing her hands. “It drew blood,” she announced by way of greeting. “I hope it’s okay I sent Morey to get you. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  “Take me to her,” Ben requested.

  A little girl wearing tiny shorts, younger than Samantha but older then the boy with the chicken pants, was sitting on the side of a bathtub. I smelled blood.

  “I’m a paramedic,” Ben told the girl kindly. “You can call me Ben. Are you Kathy?”

  The little girl nodded solemnly. I smelled and saw a single tear track down her cheek.

  Ben crouched next to her. His voice was very soft. “Where did it get you?”

  The girl lifted her leg and I saw the source of the blood smell. A deep wound above her ankle was dripping steadily into the white bathtub, making spatters. “Okay,” Ben decided. He glanced up at the woman standing with us in the small bathroom. “She’s going to need to go to the ER and have this stitched up. It’s not life-threatening; you don’t need to call an ambulance. But she needs to go.”

  “Can I pet the puppy?” the little boy asked.

  Everyone looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. I wagged.

  “Sure.”

  The little boy reached out his small hand and I lowered my head for him to pet me. The little girl stretched a hand down too, but she couldn’t reach me, so I shuffled forward and was gently stroked by her as well.

  Ben leaned over and twisted some knobs. A steady stream of water thundered into the bathtub. “Kathy, I need you to put your leg under here and just let the water run. Okay?”

  The girl nodded. Ben put his hand in the stream and smiled. “Yah, that’s good. Here.” He lifted the girl’s foot and steered it into the water. “Not too hot?”

  The girl shook her head. “It’s okay.”

  Everyone was more relaxed, and I wondered if I was the only one in the room to realize that Ben had shoved that turkey treat into his pocket, where he had more waiting. He glanced up at the woman. “Do you have any liquid soap?”

  The woman opened a door under the sink and held out a bottle to Ben. I wrinkled my nose at the odor. “I’m going to put some of this on your bite, okay, Kathy?” Ben advised. “It might sting a little, but it shouldn’t hurt a lot.”

  The girl winced as a gooey liquid flowed from the bottle into the bloody scratch on her leg.

  “Good girl,” Ben praised her. “Now tell me more about this animal.”

  “It’s a raccoon,” the woman replied from behind us.

  “It just came up to me and bit me,” the little girl added.

  “You didn’t do anything? You didn’t try to touch it?” Ben pressed.

  The little girl shook her head. “We didn’t even see it. It just came out of nowhere.”

  “It’s walking kinda funny,” the boy chimed in.

  Ben set his mouth in a grim line. “Oofda.” He stood and turned to the mother. “We need to thoroughly irrigate the wound. Lots of soap and water. Then drive her to get urgent care. Can you do that?”

  “Sure, but what’s wrong?” the woman asked. I could smell her worry getting stronger and sharper.

  “It’s just really unusual for them to attack people who are minding their own business. Is the raccoon still out there somewhere?”

  The boy nodded solemnly. “You can see him from the back window. He’s in the yard, kinda walking around in circles.”

  Ben glanced at the woman. “Do you have an empty trash can, or a trash can we can empty?”

  The woman looked puzzled. “Sure.”

  “Show me. Kathy, will you be okay by yourself for a few minutes? Just keep your leg in the water.”

  “Okay,” the little girl agreed in a timid voice.

  I followed Ben and the woman into the kitchen. I had already learned that I liked kitchens very much. They smell wonderful and there are often interesting things on the floor for me to lick.

  The woman opened a door and brought out a fragrant-smelling container that came up to her knees. Ben nodded approvingly when she pulled a plastic bag out of it and tied off the top. “Will this work?” she asked.

  “Perfect.”

  “Look,” the boy called. He was standing next to a giant window, pointing outside. “It’s still here. See it?”

  I glanced out into the yard and then stared in surprise. Waddling around in the green grass was the largest squirrel I could possibly imagine. Its black nose was ringed with white fur, and black fur circled its eyes, with white across its forehead. It was wobbling as it shuffled in a wide, meandering circle.

  I felt the fur on the back of my neck rising up. The muscles in my back legs tensed. I knew what to do with squirrels—even giant squirrels. Chase them!

  Ben pressed his lips together and nodded. “I need to trap it with the trash can and have animal control pick it up. It’s sick, and I’m pretty sure it’s got rabies. Animal control can run tests to see if I’m right.”

  The woman gasped. “Rabies? Oh no! Will Kathy get the shots in the stomach? I’ve heard those are horribly painful!”

  Ben shook his head. “No. First, we’re flushing the wound and that will help tremendously. Second, we don’t give those shots in the stomach anymore. There’s a vaccine now, don’tcha know. It’s a single injection in the arm, like getting a flu shot. It won’t hurt more than any other kind of shot. Kathy’s going to be fine, I promise.”

  “Do I have to get a shot too?” the boy asked, alarmed.

  “Did it bite you? Did you touch it?” Ben wanted to know.

  The boy soundlessly shook his head.

  “Then no,” Ben reassured him. “Just your sister.”

  I crept closer to the giant window. That giant squirrel was still out there. I didn’t understand why we were all standing around when there was chasing to be done.

  “How long will it take for animal control to test if it’s rabies?” the woman asked Ben.