Free Chewy and Chica by Ellen Miles Page A

you.” Mom flipped open her reporter’s notebook. “Can you give me a timetable —”
    They strolled away to finish their interview.
    Lizzie and Charles smacked a big high five. “Yes!” they yelled.
    A few minutes later, as Lizzie was wiping down a PetLove window that had gotten sprayed, she heard someone come up behind her.
    When she turned around, she saw Mr. Sneed standing there. Was he going to yell at her? He held up his hands and smiled a thin smile. “I surrender,” he said. “You folks win. I haven’t had a customer all day. I guess people really do care about this issue. I’ll talk to that Ms. Dobbins woman first thing tomorrow, and arrange to take her shelter animals instead of those puppies from the puppy mill. Happy?”
    Lizzie and Charles were speechless. They stared openmouthed as Mr. Sneed turned on his heel and walked off. Then Lizzie managed to find her voice. “Thank you!” she called. “If you want to let everybody know, you can tell that reporter over there. She’ll put it in tomorrow’s paper!”
    “Well, well, well.” Mr. Beauregard strolled over a few moments later to talk to Charlesand Lizzie. “From what I’ve seen, I can guess that you two might be feeling pretty good right now.” He gestured to Mr. Sneed and the senator, who both stood talking to Mom by the shopping cart–return area.
    So,
Charles thought,
he’s been watching
. Funny — Charles had been watching Mr. Beauregard, too. He had obviously had a great time at the demonstration. Why? Because he loved dogs. Charles could tell. He had pointed it out to Lizzie, too. Mr. Beauregard had visited with all the dogs at the demonstration, stopping to pet them and talk to them and scratch their heads. Sometimes he even squatted right down to give a dog a big hug or a kiss and whisper into its ear.
    Mr. Beauregard had stayed around until the very last dog had left — except for Chewy and Chica, of course. Now he pulled out his checkbook. “Have you counted how much you earned, soaping up all those mutts?” he asked. “I intendto write a check that matches the amount. That way, we’ll double the donation to Caring Paws.”
    “Really?” Charles stared at him. What was it like to be so rich that you could just
do
that? He tilted his head. “So, do you have a private plane and every thing?” he asked.
    “
Charles
,” said Lizzie in a “don’t be so nosy” voice. She pulled her chair up to the table and dumped all the money out of the jar so she could count it.
    But Mr. Beauregard was nodding. “I sure do,” he said. “I have to, in order to see after all my businesses. They’re based all over the world.”
    “So,” Charles said casually, “if you had, say, two teeny, tiny dogs that you wanted to take with you, it would be no problem. Not like it would be on a regular plane.”
    “Ha! I guess you’re right about that. I can pretty much do whatever I want. I own the plane, after all.” Mr. Beauregard shoved back his red baseball cap and laughed.
    Charles didn’t have to say anything to Lizzie or even give her a look. She knew just what he was up to. She stopped counting money and joined right in. “Chewy and Chica are so smart,” she told Mr. Beauregard. “We’ve taught them a lot, but they’ve learned from each other, too. Like, Chewy taught Chica about a good place to pee out in our yard, and Chica is always teaching Chewy that it hurts if he bites. They’re both good dogs, but together, they’re
great
.”
    “Plus, they really like you,” Charles said. “They calmed down so fast when you put them in your pockets. Chewy likes some people, and Chica likes others, but there’re only a very few people that they both love.”
    Mr. Beauregard laughed again. “Well, my dear old mother always did used to say that I had a way with dogs.”
    “That first day we met you, when you bought all the puppies from that truck,” Charles said,“you said you wished you could keep them all.
    How about just keeping