Free Fenway and Hattie by Victoria J. Coe

beast,” I bark. “Now beat it before I destroy you once and for all!”
    But my serious threats do not drive him away. Next thing I know, that little monster flies off the fence, right into the Dog Park! As soon as his feet hit the grass, he scampers toward the giant tree.
    Ha! If that’s how he wants to play, he picked the wrong opponent. “I’ve got you now, you nasty creature!” I bark, taking off after him.
    His fat, fluffy tail swishes tauntingly as he runs. I can already taste that disgusting fur in my jaws. I’m about to snap when he flees up the trunk in an ominous racket of clickety-clacky-clacks. Uh-oh! Hattie’s up there!
    I paw the bark of the giant tree, snarling and growling furiously. “Leave Hattie alone, you menace!” I bark. “Or you’ll have to answer to me!”
    Fortunately, the rustling and swaying branches tell me he has enough sense to avoid the squirrel house. I drop down in the shade and curl up for a well-deserved rest.
    Then my ears detect familiar sounds through the fence. The jingling of dogs. If only I could get excited.
    â€œIs that you, Fenway?” Patches’s lovely voice calls.
    I slump a bit lower.
    â€œHe looks like he lost his best bone,” I hear Goldie mutter.
    â€œPoor guy,” Patches says. “It reminds me of the first time our sweet Angel left the leashes on their hooks, forgetting all about them. You parked yourself at the door and sulked and stewed and didn’t move. Not even at supper time.”
    â€œMe?” Goldie huffs. “I believe you were the one who whimpered and carried on like a puppy when she went out without us that day. She practically shut the door on your nose, like you weren’t even there.”
    Patches sniffs. “She ran out without giving us so much as a pat.”
    â€œWell, a dog can’t keep living in the past,” Goldie says. “What’s done is done.”
    Patches sighs. “Still, I can’t help but remember the good times.”
    â€œWhat’s the point?” Goldie says, then calls over to me. “Hey, Fenway. Do yourself a favor and move on without that short human. You’re only making yourself miserable.”
    â€œHave a little sympathy,” Patches says. “Can’t you see the pain he’s in?”
    It’s all too much to bear. “Leave me alone,” I cry.
    â€œSee?” Patches says.
    â€œHey, I’m only trying to help,” Goldie says. “Is it my fault if the little guy won’t listen to my advice?”
    â€œThere’s advice and then there’s wise advice,” Patches says.
    â€œAnd I suppose yours is wise?” Goldie grumbles.
    â€œFenway,” Patches says kindly, “we know from experience how hard it is to move on. But believe me, life without your short human isn’t as bad as you think.”
    â€œThat’s your wise advice?” Goldie says.
    Patches ignores her. “Listen, Fenway, at first, we couldn’t accept it. But as time went on, we got used to entertaining ourselves.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Goldie says. “Instead of swimming in the pond, now we lie in puddles.”
    â€œYou mean we splash in the wading pool,” Patches corrects.
    â€œSpeak for yourself,” Goldie says with a growl. “I lie in puddles.”
    â€œIn any case,” Patches goes on, “we’ve found ways to adjust. And you will, too.”
    I want to ignore them, but a sense of fury rises upthrough my fur and consumes my entire body. In a flash, I’m charging over to the fence. “Maybe that’s working for you,” I say. “But I could never live without My Hattie. I am going to get her back.”
    â€œNow, Fenway, I know you’re determined, but . . .” Patches says, her eyes sad and wincing. “Have you actually thought about what a gargantuan task that would be?”
    â€œHey, maybe he’s