Good Dogs with Bad Haircuts Read online

  Hurry up and fetch all of the Good Dogs adventures!

  Good Dogs on a Bad Day

  Good Dogs with Bad Haircuts

  G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York

  Text copyright © 2021 by Working Partners Ltd.

  Illustrations copyright © 2021 by Victoria Freeman

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  G. P. Putnam’s Sons is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Sidorov, David, author. | Wenitsky, Rachel, author. | Freeman, Tor, illustrator.

  Title: Good dogs with bad haircuts / David Sidorov and Rachel Wenitsky; illustrated by Tor Freeman.

  Description: New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, [2021] | Series: [Good dogs; 2] | Summary: “The Good Dogs must come together when a special neighborhood wedding is on the brink of disaster”—Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2020010474 (print) | LCCN 2020010475 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593108475 | ISBN 9780593108482 (ebook)

  Subjects: CYAC: Dogs—Fiction. | Behavior—Fiction. | Weddings—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.S526 Gow 2021 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.S526 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020010474

  LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020010475

  Ebook ISBN 9780593108482

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © 2021 by Tor Freeman • Cover design by Eileen Savage and Suki Boynton

  pid_prh_5.6.1_c0_r0

  For Molly, Freddie, Whiskey, and Rosie

  —R.W. and D.S.

  For dear Auntie Kate and her Gus!

  Love from Tor xx

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Hurry Up and Fetch All of the Good Dogs Adventures!

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About the Illustrator

  About the Authors

  CHAPTER 1

  Grass! Dirt! Trash can! Stick! Grass! Trash! Human leg!

  King had a lot of favorite things, and the park was home to most of them. He darted around excitedly, smelling the familiar smells, then stopped suddenly in his tracks.

  “A leaf! Leaf! Look at this leaf! Check it out! A leaf!” King wagged his tail wildly as he shouted to Lulu and Hugo. He knew that the humans in the dog run just heard a series of excited barks and yelps, but his friends understood.

  “Seems like King really loves that leaf,” Lulu said. She was sitting under a tree, biting into a chew toy shaped like a designer handbag.

  King inched closer to the leaf, stuck out his nose, and took in a big whiff. Mmm, he thought. There’s nothing like the smell of a red leaf sprinkled with a little bit of dirt and pee in the morning!

  “Stick! Stick! Stick! Check it out! A stick!”

  King turned to see Waffles the puppy running toward him, carrying a stick that was bigger than her whole body.

  Ohhh yeah, he thought. Definitely gonna play with that.

  “Careful with that thing, Waff!” Hugo called out to his new younger sister. He and Napoleon were racing each other across the fenced-in area, both chasing the same ball that Erin had thrown. But King noticed that even while Hugo was playing, he always had a watchful eye on Waffles.

  “I’m serious, Waffles!” Hugo warned as he stopped running. “You could hurt somebody with that thing!”

  “Zoe lets me play with big sticks all the time!” Waffles yelped.

  “I love Zoe as much as you do, but you have to remember that she’s a five-year-old human and I’m an eight-year-old dog, so I think I know a little bit more—”

  “Ha! Ya snooze, ya lose!” Napoleon barked, grabbing the ball and bumping Hugo with his rear end as he swiveled to sprint back to Erin. She was King’s owner and his favorite human in the world. She also ran Good Dogs doggy day care, so she was keeping an eye on all of his friends—including Cleo, his big sister, a German shepherd mix, who was diligently running laps. She was so fast that nobody could catch up with her.

  King and Waffles tumbled in the dirt, chewing on opposite ends of the stick. They were playing a game they had recently invented called the Stick Game, which involved tumbling in the dirt and chewing on opposite ends of a stick. King felt like he was a little better at the Stick Game, since he was a slightly older puppy than Waffles—not to mention, he had recently gotten fifth place in an agility contest. It wasn’t perfect, but fifth was a lot better than dead last! And who needed to be perfect? He had also been the runner-up for “Most Improved.” King wasn’t sure what runner-up meant, but assumed that he’d gotten that because he loved to run and jump.

  After they were done, Waffles started wrestling with Petunia, and King hopped onto the bench where Erin was sitting, plopped his head in her lap, and got some really great pets. As he looked out at the other dogs, King thought, This is just about as good as it gets. All of his friends and family in one place.

  Cleo and Erin were his family, but when he really thought about it, his friends were kind of like his family too. And these days, it was pretty rare that they were all together at the park! Lulu had been going to the set of Jasmine’s movie most days, living what King imagined was a very elegant movie-star life. He had eaten enough entertainment magazines to know that Hollywood seemed glamorous and fun (and that paper was delicious). He didn’t know much, but he assumed a movie set probably had hundreds of entertainment magazines to eat.

  “How come you aren’t on your movie set today?” he called over to Lulu.

  “Jasmine has the day off, and she had to go to some meetings,” she replied, scratching her silky Yorkie ear with her manicured paw. “But I think we’re about to get a lot busier! Jasmine thinks she might get to be in the sequel.”

  “What’s a sequel?” King asked.

  “It’s sort of like another story that’s even better than the first one!” Lulu said.

  “That sounds great. I love sequels,” King said. Then there was a series of loud, booming barks—and the dogs turned to see that they belonged to Napoleon.

  “Hey, lady! Hey, lady! Gimme some of those chips! I want chips!”

  Napoleon was barking his demands at a woman on a bench who was eating some particularly delicious-smelling potato chips. He was staring into her eyes. Clearly, he meant business.

  “Napoleon,” Erin said sternly
but kindly. “Leave the nice lady alone.”

  “He’s come a long way,” Cleo said to Lulu, and King turned to listen. “A few weeks ago, he would have jumped onto that woman’s lap and snatched the chips right out of her hand. Amazing what behavior training and a couple of days a week at Good Dogs will do.”

  It was true, King thought. Barking nonstop at a stranger in the park wasn’t exactly great behavior, but for Napoleon, it was terrific! Ever since the day when King, Lulu, and Hugo had met Waffles and rescued Napoleon, the rebellious French bulldog had been coming to Good Dogs and seeing a special trainer, and it seemed like it was really making a difference. King had a feeling Napoleon’s family was paying more attention to him too. But Napoleon heard Cleo’s comment and turned to bark at her.

  “I could steal her chips if I wanted to!” Napoleon insisted. “I steal chips all the time. I just don’t feel like it right now.”

  Then King heard something very familiar.

  “I think they’re probably under the elm tree, Nuts,” Lulu said patiently.

  She was helping their squirrel friend find his acorn stash. King, Hugo, and Waffles walked over to join the conversation. King loved helping Nuts find his nuts because there was always the possibility that anything involving the squirrel could turn into a thrilling chase.

  “I don’t think they’re under the elm tree. I would remember that,” Nuts said, pacing nervously.

  “Would you? Really?” Hugo replied skeptically.

  “Listen, you guys really gotta help me out here,” Nuts said, lowering his voice. “You see that beautiful female over there?”

  “The one with the chips?” King asked. “Or do you mean Erin?”

  “No! Not the human! The squirrel! On the fence!”

  The dogs turned to see a squirrel on the fence, holding an acorn and minding her own business.

  “That’s Berries,” Nuts gushed dreamily. “I think she’s fantastic, don’t you?”

  “Uhhh . . . ,” the dogs said in unison. King wasn’t sure what made a squirrel fantastic.

  “She loves acorns. So I collected a whole big stash to show her, but I can’t remember where I put them!”

  “Listen, Nuts,” Lulu said. “Why don’t you check the elm tree, just so you can say that you did, and we’ll brainstorm some other places they could be?”

  “Okay! Fine!” Nuts replied, scampering reluctantly toward the elm tree. “But the nuts aren’t going to be there, and it’ll be a waste of time, and then I’ll have to— Oh, here they are! You were right!”

  The nuts were, as always, under the elm tree. Nuts cleared his throat and stood up to face the squirrel on the fence.

  “Excuse me, Berries? Would you like to see some acorns?”

  Berries sighed, then slowly headed to the elm tree.

  “You can have some if you want,” Nuts offered nervously.

  “Cute,” Berries said. “But I have my own.”

  She hopped confidently to the other side of the elm tree, and Nuts followed. King watched as Berries showed off her own stash of acorns, which was much bigger. King didn’t really get what was so great about acorns—they were too small to play with, and every time he tried to eat one, he barfed—but the squirrels seemed to love them.

  Nuts stared at Berries’s acorn pile. “Wow! You have so many. And you remembered where you put them. You’re fantastic!”

  “I know,” Berries replied, and hopped back up to her perch on the fence.

  Nuts scurried over to the dogs. “Seems like it’ll take more than that to impress her,” he said. “By the way, I know you just told me, but I forget, where did I put my—?”

  King didn’t hear the rest, because just then, the sweetest voice in the world—Erin’s voice, of course—called his name and the names of all of his friends.

  “King! Hugo! Lulu! Waffles! Napoleon! Petunia! Patches! Cleo! Time to go!”

  The dogs lined up, ready for their leashes, and King got excited for the walk back through the neighborhood to Erin’s house. Just as Erin was about to attach his leash, King smelled something familiar.

  What is that? King thought, bolting away from Erin, sniffing around for the source. It smelled like something King liked a lot . . . something that was usually only at home. Is it cheese? No. Is it a toy? No. Is it my bed? Hmm, no. Whatever it was, it was getting closer to the park.

  “Cleo?” King turned to his sister. “Don’t you think that smells sort of like—?”

  “Jin?!” Erin said as the gate opened and Jin walked toward them. “Babe, what are you doing here?”

  “Jin? Who’s Jin?!” Waffles asked, just excited to see a new person.

  “Erin’s boyfriend,” Cleo replied. She looked just as surprised as King felt.

  “Ooooh,” whined Petunia with a smile.

  “But what’s he doing here?” Cleo echoed Erin’s question. King wondered the same thing as he jumped up and pawed at Jin’s leg. Jin was usually at work by now and never came to the dog park.

  “I had a lunch break and figured I’d swing by . . . ,” Jin started to say. King noticed that Cleo, who was usually so stoic and calm, had started excitedly wagging her tail.

  King didn’t know what was going on. He thought Jin seemed a little more nervous and weird than usual—he was sweating a lot, and he kept rubbing his palms on his pants. King was getting better at detecting human body language, and he was often nervous and weird himself, so he was extra skilled at noticing those things in others.

  Then Jin dug into his pocket, and King eagerly jumped up on his hind legs.

  “Your pocket! Wow, wow, wow!” King yelped. “I wonder if you brought a squeaky ball!”

  “Come on, silly. Why would Jin have a—” Cleo started. But when Jin’s hand came out of his pocket, she went quiet, and King went berserk. It was a squeaky ball! And it looked pretty bouncy too.

  “OH MY DOG! OH MY DOG! OH MY DOG!” King shouted. “Cleo! I was right! It’s a squeaky ball!”

  The other dogs started barking happily too, but suddenly King’s tail dropped in confusion. This was strange—Jin never played with squeaky balls! Sometimes when he came over to their house, he would put the squeaky balls up on a high shelf because he didn’t like the sound of them squeaking. King liked Jin, but he always thought that was odd, since everyone loved the sweet, sweet sound of a squeak.

  But King didn’t have much time to be confused, because now Jin was kneeling down next to him, bringing the ball right up to his nose. King realized it wasn’t just any squeaky ball—it was the kind that usually had a T-R-E-A-T inside of it. King’s favorite. There were two things that he loved most in the world: toys and snacks. And when one was inside of the other, oh boy, did that make him happy. King’s tail started wagging so fast, it shook the rest of his body.

  “Okay, buddy,” Jin said softly to King. “Remember what we practiced?”

  King thought about it for a moment, but he couldn’t remember anything particularly noteworthy that had happened before that morning. Then: SQUEAK! SQUEAK! Jin squeezed the ball twice and gave it a good, hard toss into the air. And just like that, King was OFF! He bolted in the direction of the ball, leaped up in the air, and caught it in his mouth before it hit the ground.

  Erin and Jin started clapping.

  “Nice catch, King!” Hugo barked.

  “Not bad!” Cleo said. “Looks like agility training is paying off.”

  Jin patted his leg, motioning for King to come back with the ball. But King couldn’t resist the moment—he did a happy dance, wiggling his tail and running around proudly. It wasn’t every day you made a perfect catch on a perfect ball, after all. He gave the ball in his mouth a few loving squeaks.

  Ah, the most beautiful sound on earth, King thought as he finally trotted back over to Jin like the good boy he was. He briefly set the ball down so he could sniff it, trying to f
igure out what was inside it this time. Sometimes it was peanut butter, sometimes it was chicken, sometimes it was cheese! But whatever was in there that morning didn’t smell like any food he knew. As he put it back in his mouth and walked toward Jin, he noticed it was making a strange sound when it moved, like JANGLE JANGLE.

  Hmm . . . must be a special jangly treat, King thought. As he got back to his people, Jin seemed nervous again. He motioned for King to go to Erin instead.

  “Jin, what are you doing?” Erin asked.

  Simple, King thought. He’s playing fetch with me!

  “What’s going on, babe?” Erin continued as she kneeled down to pet King. “Seriously, did you skip work?”

  “Look inside the ball,” Jin replied. Erin took the ball out of King’s mouth.

  That’s strange, thought King. Is the special jangly treat for Erin and not for me?

  “I don’t see anything . . . ,” Erin said, peering into it.

  “What?! Really?! Uh-oh,” Jin said in a panic. He looked at King in horror, then grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer. Suddenly King felt Jin’s fingers in his mouth, fishing and poking around. What’s going on?

  “Where is it, King?” Jin was raising his voice now. “Cough it up! Cough it up!”

  Cough what up? King felt like this was turning into a very bizarre game of fetch.

  Then Erin screamed! A happy scream! And Jin took his hand out of King’s mouth.

  “OHMYGOSH!” Erin exclaimed, and she pulled what looked like a sparkly little toy out of the middle of the ball. King wagged his tail and jumped up on her legs. He still had no idea what was going on, but he was beyond excited. Erin was his favorite person in the world, and he had never seen her this happy before.

  “Ooooh! Ahhhh!” the other dogs barked. Cleo looked especially thrilled. She ran up and gave Erin a big lick on the cheek.

  “Incredible,” Cleo said. “Simply incredible. If this were an agility contest, I’d give Jin’s maneuver a ten out of ten.”

  “What’s happening? What is that thing?” King asked Cleo. “Is it a toy? Or is it a treat?”