Free Rocky by Ellen Miles Page B

asked. “The one where someone’s selling a saltwater aquarium? I don’t think we —”
    “No, this one.” Lizzie pointed to the ad.
    “Aha,” said Mom. “Well. I hope they find the puppy a good home.”
    “Exactly,” said Lizzie. “That’s exactly my point. It doesn’t even look like they’re trying!” She picked up the paper. “It’s like they don’t care who takes the puppy.”
    Mom nodded. “That’s too bad,” she said.
    “Mom?” Lizzie went over to lean on her mom’s chair. Buddy joined her, leaning against Mom’s legs.
    “Oh, no, Lizzie. You’re not thinking —” Mom started to shake her head.
    “I am,” said Lizzie. “I think we should foster this puppy. We haven’t fostered a puppy since Cocoa.” True, Cocoa had been a bit of a challenge. The chocolate Lab had been so full of energy. Maybe it was better not to talk too much about Cocoa. Lizzie changed the subject. “Plus, I’ve always wanted to foster a bulldog. They’re so cute, with their grumpy, wrinkly faces and their short little legs.”
    Mom let a smile slip. “They are cute,” she admitted. “My friend at work has a mug with a picture of a bulldog on it. It’s hilarious.”
    “So? Can’t we at least call?” Lizzie was dying to meet the giveaway pup. “You know we would do a better job of finding this puppy the perfect home.” Lizzie snuggled up closer to her mom. “Please?” she asked, in her sweetest voice. “Charles and I will take care of the puppy.”
    Mom sighed. “I have to admit that you have both been very responsible with all our foster puppies.”
    Lizzie held her breath and crossed her fingers. Buddy put a paw on Mom’s lap. “Well, I suppose we could call and find out more,” said Mom.
    Lizzie let out a whoop and threw her arms around her mother. “Yes!” she cried. “A bulldog puppy! I can’t wait.” Buddy jumped up and danced a crazy little happy-dance, squirming all over with joy.
    “Lizzie,” Mom warned, “I didn’t promise —”
    “I know, I know,” said Lizzie. She went over to grab the phone. “You just said we could call. So let’s call. Now. Can we? Please?”
    Mom shook her head. “Elizabeth Maude Peterson. You are a champion wheedler, did you know that?” But she was smiling. She took the phone and began to dial. Then she hesitated. “I should at least talk to Dad before I call,” she said.
    “He’ll be okay with it,” Lizzie said. “You know he will. He always is. He loves all the puppies we foster.” This was true, although there were probably a few puppies he loved a tiny bit less than others, like Chewy and Chica, the troublesome Chihuahuas.
    “You’re right,” said Mom. “Anyway, he and the boys are at the ice arena. He’d never be able to hear me over the noise of the hockey game.”
    “Exactly.” Lizzie picked up the newspaper and pointed to the number in the ad. “Come on, let’s call.” She read out the number.
    Mom dialed. “Yes, hello,” she said when someone answered. “Is this the person who advertised the free puppy?” Lizzie’s heart began to beat like a tom-tom drum.

Lizzie wanted to jump up and down. She wanted to shout. She wanted to dance around the room. This was so exciting! But she wanted to hear every word of what Mom was saying, so instead she plopped down on the floor and pulled Buddy into her lap. She buried her face in his neck as she listened to Mom’s half of the conversation.
    “The puppy is a bulldog?” Mom asked. She knit her brow and nodded. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, I see,” she said. “And so you want to find him a new home.”
    Him! Lizzie grinned. The puppy was a boy. A boy bulldog. She couldn’t wait to meet him. He must be totally adorable.
    “Well, our family fosters puppies, and we thought maybe —” Mom stopped, listening. “You would? Right now?” She put a hand over the receiver and turned to Lizzie. “He said he’d like us to come meet Rocky,” she said.
    “Rocky?” Lizzie jumped to her feet.