Free Zoo Breath by Graham Salisbury

A Good Stink
    “A ck!” Stella snapped, turning around in the front seat of the car. “Get that thing away from me!”
    It was Sunday, and Mom was driving us to the grocery store. Stella was sixteen; she’d come from Texas to live with us and helpMom. She was in high school, studying ways to mess up my life. Me and my sister, Darci, were in the backseat with Streak, my dog.
    Streak was sitting on my knees, hanging her head over the front seat. Breathing on Stella.
    I gave Streak a hug and sat back, pulling her close.
    She licked my ear.
    Stella glared over her shoulder. “Did you just let that stinky dog lick germs all over you?”
    “Streak doesn’t have germs, and anyway dogs have clean tongues.”
    Stella shook her head and turned back.
    I sniffed the top of Streak’s head. “I don’t smell any stink.”
    Stella mumbled, “You wouldn’t.”
    Mom glanced into the rearview mirror. “Stella’s right, Calvin. Streak does smell, especially her breath. Maybe she can stick her head out the window instead of hanging over the front seat.”
    I hugged Streak. So what if she was a littlestinky? All dogs smelled, but it was a good stink, not a bad one. Still, I’d just adopted her from the Humane Society, and the last thing I needed was for Mom to make me take Streak back because she had bad breath.

    I glanced over at Darci, who was bouncing Petey on her knee. Petey was a green, pint-size stuffed parrot with small dried beans in it. Mom’s boyfriend, Ledward, had given it to her. Petey was Darci’s favorite thing in the world. For now, anyway.
    I leaned close and whispered, “Hey, Darce, smell Streak’s breath and see if you think it stinks.”
    Stella had ears like an elephant. “Don’t you dare! Don’t fall for it, Darci. He’s tricking you.”

    “I am not!” I said.
    “Then smell it yourself.”
    “Pfff,” I huffed, then scooted back to my side of the backseat.
    I knew Streak’s breath was terrible.

    Stella smirked. “See, Darci? He won’t even do it himself, and it’s his dog.”
    “Will too,” I mumbled. But didn’t.
    I inched Streak forward, aiming her breath at Stella.
    “Calvin,” Mom said.
    Man, she had eyes in the back of her head.
    I put the window down and let Streak hang her head out. She loved it. Spit flew off her tongue in the wind.
    I was worried.
    Really worried.
    Because Mom and Stella had been complaining more than usual about Streak: howshe smelled, chewed up everything in sight, left dog doo all over the yard, and shed hair in the house—even though she was only allowed in the kitchen to eat. She slept in my room, which wasn’t even in the house, but in the garage.
    My friend Willy’s dog got to be in
his
house.
    I slumped in my seat.
    Could Mom make me get rid of Streak? Would she?
    One time Mom stepped in some of Streak’s dog doo in the yard and nearly bit my head off. “I wish you’d gotten a
fish
for a pet!” Then she bought me a shovel and wrote on the handle with a big fat black Sharpie: CALVIN’S POOPER SCOOPER . “Use this every day, rain or shine,” she’d said. “Toss the stuff into the bushes,
away
from the house.”
    Fine. I did that. Rain or shine.
    “I can take a lot, Calvin,” Mom said now. “But that dog’s breath is—”
    “Disgusting!” Stella butted in.
    I stuck my head out the window with Streak. She was the best dog that ever lived.
    But I was going to lose her.
    It was just a matter of time.

Detectives
    N ext week in class, Mr. Purdy smiled and spread his hands. “Good morning, boot campers! It’s Friday!”
    “Good morning, Mr. Purdy,” we droned.
    I was only half listening because I was thinking about Streak, how she was always so happy to see me when I got home from school.
    Mr. Purdy rubbed his hands together. He looked at us, flicked his eyebrows.
    Aiy. First the arms, now the eyebrows. This could only mean trouble.
    I looked out the window from my front-row seat. Another sunny morning at Kailua Elementary School. Nice