Free News For Dogs by Lois Duncan Page B

Debbie said, patting her mother’s hair extensions into place. “And, instead of taking a notebook, I’m going to take a tape recorder. I don’t want to miss a word when Fifi’s owner tells Foxy’s owner about her date with Dr. Bryant.”
    That week’s gossip column was a long one. Not only did Dr. Bryant buy Fifi’s owner dinner, he kissed her good night and gave her a handout about tick removal. In addition, Curly Roskin had eaten a pinecone, Frisky Mason had bitten the mail carrier, and Trixie Larkin had barked in the night and saved the family from a mouse that had gotten into the clothes hamper.
    “I wouldn’t feel safe if we didn’t have Trixie,” said Mrs. Larkin.
    For the online edition, Andi decided to break off the article about Barkley at the point where it said, “Then the poor little dog lifted his trembling head and pleadingly gazed at his master as if to ask — FOR THE REST OF THIS HORRIFYINGSTORY, SEND FIFTY CENTS AND YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS TO
THE BOW-WOW NEWS.”
    “What’s ‘the rest of the story’?” Bruce demanded. “Nothing more happened except Mr. Murdock yelled at me and I ran. When people send us money, what are you going to say Barkley was asking?”
    “‘Dear Master, why don’t you help Concerned Citizens for Clean Neighborhoods keep the sidewalks clean?’
” Andi said. “I know that’s not worth fifty cents, but I’ll send them my poem to make it longer. I did find a rhyme for ‘leash.’ It’s ‘quiche’ — that awful cheese pie with broccoli that Aunt Alice makes.
    His owner jerked

The sturdy leash

And yelled, ‘Go home

And eat your quiche!’”
    “You can’t say Barkley ate quiche for breakfast,” Bruce told her. “Not without a statement from the Murdocks. You’re going to have to come up with a different poem.”
    The evening before Mr. and Mrs. Walker were due to leave, Aunt Alice invited the family over for dinner to discuss the details of the children’s visit. Mr. Walker wanted to be sure that his aunt knew that Bruce was not to take Red Rover out of the yard, and Mrs. Walker wanted them all in agreement that the children would spend their evenings at home with Aunt Alice with no jaunts down the block to check on their dogs.
    “Those dogs will do just fine on their own,” she said. “I don’t want you children out wandering around after dark.”
    Andi and Bruce had spent that afternoon at Tim’s house, helping to print and assemble the next print edition of the paper. That had taken them longer than they’d expected, and when they finally arrived at Aunt Alice’s house, their parents were already there. The three adults were in the living room with such somber expressions on their faces that the children knew immediately that something was wrong. Not just wrong, but
very
wrong. Mr. Walker was glowering, and Mrs. Walker looked as if she had been crying.
    “Sit down,” Mr. Walker said ominously. “We have something serious to discuss. I received a callat work today from Mr. Murdock. He is threatening to sue your mother and me as the guardians of minor children who have posted a libelous article and photo on the Internet. What have you and your friends done?”
    “It wasn’t libel,” Andi said. “The story was true. Our legal advisor told us Mr. Murdock couldn’t sue us.”
    “That’s right,” Aunt Alice interjected. “Andi consulted me about it. The facts of the story were documented by a photograph.”
    Mr. Walker regarded his aunt incredulously. “Are you saying you knew about this and didn’t tell us?”
    “It was a matter of confidentiality,” Aunt Alice told him. “Andi asked my professional opinion, and I gave it to her. If the children had done something wrong, I would have felt obligated to say something, but they were within their rights. Mr. Murdock was the one who defied a town ordinance.”
    “I left a message on his answering machine,” Bruce said. “When he didn’t return the call, we figured his attorney told