Free Rocky by Ellen Miles Page A

families, but also about their daily lives. “Look at the newspaper,” she’d suggested. “Tell your pen pal about a current event, so he or she can get a picture of what life is like here in Littleton.”
    Lizzie got up and went into the living room to find the paper. Buddy followed her, trotting along with his ears perked and his tail held high. He was always happy to see what happened next — that was one of the things Lizzie loved best about him.
    Buddy went straight for his toy basket and pulled out Mr. Duck. He chewed on the stuffed bird’s belly to make it squeak, then tossed it up in the air and raced to pounce on it when it fell. He made it squeak some more, then trotted over to Lizzie to show off his prize.
    “Very nice,” Lizzie said. “Good dog, Buddy.” But she wasn’t really paying attention. She was reading through the paper, trying to find something — anything — interesting to tell Allyson about. There wasn’t much. Littleton was not a very exciting town, and Saturday’s paper was always especially boring. The main headline was about a school board meeting, and Lizzie’s mom had written an article on the second page about a ground-breaking ceremony for the new soccer field at the recreation center. Lizzie looked through every single page of the Littleton News without finding one single interesting thing to tell Allyson. Maybe she would have to make something up. She thought about that as she glanced over the classified ads in the back.
    What could she say? Maybe she could tell Allyson that a sports or movie star was coming to live in Littleton. Or what about writing that a meteorite had crashed to Earth in the middle of town, or that a bear had attacked someone in the park?
    Then Lizzie saw something that made her eyes open wide. Instantly, she forgot all about Allyson, meteorites, bears, and sports stars. It was right there, in the middle of the classifieds, under the heading Pets . A tiny ad, with a bold headline: FREE PUPPY .

Lizzie caught her breath and took a closer look. Free Puppy , the ad said. Bulldog . Then there was a phone number. That was all.
    She frowned. Why didn’t it say “To a Good Home”? It sounded like they were just going to give the puppy to the first person who called. That wasn’t right. Ms. Dobbins, the director of the local animal shelter where Lizzie volunteered every week, would never do that. If someone wanted to adopt a pet from Caring Paws, they had to fill out a long application with lots of information about who they were, where they lived, and how they planned to take care of the animal that was about to become part of their family. Ms. Dobbins didn’t let just anyone walk in, pay the adoption fee, and walk back out with a cat or dog.
    Lizzie’s aunt Amanda, who ran a doggy day-care center where Lizzie sometimes helped out, would have agreed. She had told Lizzie that responsible dog breeders never sold puppies without interviewing buyers first.
    Lizzie thought for a second. Then she closed the notebook in which she’d been writing her pen-pal letter. She picked up the newspaper and pushed back her chair. “Mom!” she yelled.
    Buddy scrabbled to his feet and followed her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
    “Mom,” Lizzie said again as she walked into her mother’s study.
    Mom spun around on her office chair and rubbed her eyes. “What is it, honey?” she asked. She looked tired. Mom had been working hard lately on a series of articles called “Exceptional Elders,” about interesting older people in the community. So far she had interviewed a farmer, a husband-and-wife team who ran a flower shop, and a retired detective. She said she loved the project, but Lizzie had noticed that she often went back into her study late at night, instead of reading or watching a movie in the living room.
    “Mom, look at this ad.” Lizzie plopped the paper down on her mother’s lap.
    Mom picked it up and studied the classifieds. “Which one?” she