Free The Dog Days of Charlotte Hayes by Marlane Kennedy

’cause all the residents are so glad to see her. And Jezebel, who thinks she is a tiny little lapdog; her owner has to warn people who visit about the possibility of 230 pounds oflove smothering them once they sit down. I get lost in the stories of happy owners and pictures of their happy dogs. There are Saint Bernards pictured reclining on comfy couches, Saint Bernards with kids climbing on them, Saint Bernards with big rawhide bones or prized balls in their mouths.
    Suddenly there is the sound of keys in the front door. I quickly close the saintrescue.org window and jump up.
    As soon as Mama steps in, she asks how things went.
    â€œFine. Justin Lee was good, and he went right off to sleep.”
    Daddy shakes off his umbrella before stepping inside. “Holy cow, it was miserable out there.”
    Agnes follows him in, looking upset. Her hair is an odd combination of frizzy and flat. “Of all the nights to rain.” She frowns.
    â€œAw, you looked mighty pretty down there anyway,” Daddy says, trying to cheer her up.
    â€œI don’t think anyone could see me at all through the rain. But it’s just as well; I probably lookedlike a drowned rat. They should have canceled the game.”
    â€œNo lightning or thunder. Rules say you gotta play, sweetheart,” Daddy tells her.
    â€œWell, they should have made an exception for homecoming.”
    All three of them look wet from the knees down, where an umbrella couldn’t protect them, and they kick off soggy shoes. An hour from now they will be dry and snug under the covers, though.
    I think how if it weren’t for me, Beauregard would have had raindrops falling on his head all night long. Still, a propped-up plastic container top doesn’t exactly take care of all his problems. I think of all the lucky dogs adopted through the Saint Bernard rescue group. None of them having to be left out in the rain.
    â€œI’m going to go upstairs to check on Justin Lee,” Mama says.
    â€œOh, he’s okay. Charlotte took good care of him,” Daddy says, ruffling my hair. “Besides, honey, you might wake him if you go into his room.”
    Mama shakes her head and trudges up the stairs. “He’ll be awake and crying in a few hours anyway.”
    Entertaining Justin Lee was hard enough for the short time I cared for him. I can’t imagine being responsible for him all the time. No wonder Mama’s running shoes stay in the closet!

Chapter 17
    N ext morning Mama is shoving spoonfuls of oatmeal into Justin Lee’s mouth. He has mastered finger food but can’t handle a spoon yet. Mama has a grin on her face, and she is humming.
    I grab a cereal box out of the cabinet and wonder why she is in such a good mood. I don’t have to wonder long, though.
    â€œGuess what?” she says.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œJustin Lee slept through the night! Whatever you did last night, when you were baby-sitting, must have worked some magic on him. What did you do? Lethim crawl up the stairs a million times so he got all tuckered out?” Mama asked.
    â€œNope. Just read to him, and he played with his toys in the basket. That’s all.”
    Mama puts down the spoon, wipes a glob of oatmeal off Justin Lee’s face with a napkin, and picks up the spoon again.
    Justin Lee grabs the spoon away from Mama and pounds his high chair tray with it.
    Mama looks at me. “I really hope this isn’t just a fluke and that he sleeps through the night from now on.”
    I pour my cereal into a bowl and sit down with Mama and Justin Lee.
    The phone rings, and Mama asks me to get it, as she is busy trying to wrangle the spoon back from Justin Lee. His bowl of oatmeal still has a bit left in the bottom, and Mama’s determined that he finish it.
    I dash over to the phone. “Hello?”
    A gruff voice greets me; the returned “hello” through the receiver kind of reminds me of DarthVader. There’re a few raspy