Free Mr. Peabody & Sherman Junior Novelization (Mr. Peabody & Sherman) by Erica David Page B

Grunion, but there’s one thing you haven’t considered,” he said.
    “What’s that?” she asked skeptically. She knew there was nothing this boy could say that would change her mind.
    “I’m a dog, too,” Sherman answered proudly.
    “What?” Miss Grunion said, annoyed.
    “If being a dog means you’re like Mr. Peabody, who never turns his back on you, and who’s always there to pick you up when you fall and loves you no matter how many times you mess up, then yeah, I’M A DOG, TOO! ” Sherman declared.
    Mr. Peabody was so proud of Sherman, he could’vehowled in delight—but he wasn’t really a howler. Instead, he nodded to his boy with a great deal of fatherly affection.
    “I’m a dog, too!” yelled Leonardo da Vinci.
    “I’m a dog, too!” King Agamemnon shouted.
    “I’m a dog, too!” cried Robespierre. “A French poodle.”
    Sherman’s declaration started a chain reaction. One by one, figures from the past and the present came forward to declare themselves dogs. Even Paul Peterson, who’d gotten off to a very rocky start with Mr. Peabody said, “Ditto on that dog thing!”
    Last but not least, Penny stepped forward. She’d teased Sherman about being a dog, but now he made her proud to be one. “I’m a dog, too,” she said. Penny took Sherman’s hand and squeezed it gently.
    Sherman blushed and swallowed hard before looking expectantly at Miss Grunion.
    Even though he’d won the crowd over, Miss Grunion remained unmoved by Sherman’s stirring speech. “All right, fine, you’re all dogs, but you can’t change the law,” she said menacingly.
    “
He
can!” Penny said, pointing at a figure in the crowd. It was George Washington, the first president of the United States. He bowed deeply and made his way through the crowd to Mr. Peabody.

G eorge Washington cleared his throat. “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men—and some dogs—are created equal,” the president proclaimed. “I hereby award Mr. Peabody a presidential pardon.”
    The crowd cheered. The French peasants waved their torches in delight. The Greeks and Trojans beat their swords against their shields. Even King Tut’s Egyptian servants set down his royal litter to applaud.
    The police released Sherman’s father from the dogcatcher’s collar. As his first act of freedom, he ran straight to Sherman and gave him a huge hug.
    Miss Grunion’s frown deepened and her eyes narrowed with rage. “But this is a travesty of justice! He bit me! He should be put down!” she yelled.
    Suddenly, a strange whistling noise came from the sky. The time vortex shuddered and spat out a giant Egyptian sphinx. The enormous stone statue with the head of a human and the body of a lion landed with a crash at the opposite end of Central Park.
    Everyone turned to look up at the wormhole—Miss Grunion included. It had grown even larger in the past few minutes. Now it took up nearly half the sky. Lightning crackled ominously from its depths.
    All the historical figures standing around gathered close to Mr. Peabody.
    “Ve have to go home!” said Sigmund Freud in his thick Austrian accent.
    “Oui,” Marie Antoinette agreed.
    “Oui,” Robespierre added.
    “Dat’s vhat I said, ve have to go home!” Freud said insistently.
    Mr. Peabody interrupted the three of them and their dueling accents to prevent further misunderstanding. “Unfortunately, it’s not going to be that easy. We can’t go back to the past,” he explained. “But we do have some of the greatest intellects ever assembled. Surely we can work together and come up with a solution!”
    Leonardo da Vinci was the first to step forward with an idea. “Why don’t we build a giant catapult and fling everyone home?”
    Freud didn’t like that idea. It might have had something to do with his unconscious fear of flying. He brushed Leonardo’s idea aside and asked what kind of relationship the wormhole had with its mother.
    Mr. Peabody grimaced. So far, the