NOT QUITE A BEAGLE
by: Beverly Myers Cleary
Mrs. Cleary wins $100 for this submission, congratulations!

My three brothers and I were born one sunny, bright October day in West Virginia. Our Mr. and Mrs. came to see us and checked us out - picking up each one and commenting on how adorable we all were. Then, they fussed over our mommy and went back into their house.

Our mommy washed us and cleaned out or ears (ouch - that tickles) and then fed us our first meal. It was delicious! We all fell fast asleep, content and happy with tummies full of warm, wonderful milk.

For three days and nights we were happy little Beagles, loved by our Mr. and Mrs., and our two little girls, Hannah and Becka. We looked forward to their visits to our box; and even though we couldn't see them as yet, we knew we were going to have a grand time playing with them as soon as we were strong enough.

Our fourth night on earth we were awakened by footsteps coming closer and closer to our box. It didn't sound like Mr. or Mrs. and certainly was too loud to be our little girls. I could feel our mommy stirring and then she started to push us all to the back of our box while she went out to see who was coming. We heard our gate open and close and waited a long time for our mommy to come back so we could go back to sleep beside her.

After hours and hours, our Mr. came out to feed mommy, but mommy wasn't there. We all tried to tell him about the strange footsteps in the night, but he didn't listen. Of course, we were all trying to talk at once and maybe he just couldn't understand. He ran back to his house shouting to our Mrs. that someone had stolen our mommy. We didn't know what "stolen" meant, but it sounded bad and not only did we want our mommy back but we were very, very hungry.

Our Mr. and Mrs. did the best they could to feed us but we were almost always hungry. You see, they could only feed us a few times a day since they went away in their car all day and didn't come back until night time.

I, being the smallest, was feeling weak and sick. I didn't care if I got up anymore. I just wanted to sleep.

Four days after my mommy was taken away, we heard a car pull into the driveway. It wasn't a familiar sounding car and the voices weren't familiar either. Were we going to be stolen too? I was too weak by this time to care.

We were placed in a box on something soft and put into this strange car. I overheard my Mr. say "Mom." I perked up a little - my mommy had come back and now I would be all right.

It seemed like we rode forever. When we finally stopped we were placed in a bigger box with an even softer blanket and fed warm milk from a bottle that tasted like mommy's milk. So, I thought, it must really be my mommy.

My brothers' eyes came open one day and they told me we were in a blue and white room with a big white thing that mommy put water in at one end. I asked what mommy looked like but they didn't answer - just told me I'd be able to see for myself when my eyes opened. I could hardly wait!

Well, wonder of wonders! I woke up one morning and my eyes were opening and I could see - not too clearly, but I could see. Mommy came to feed us (she fed us every 4 hours, so I was getting alot stronger now) and I thought she was beautiful. She was pink and soft and fuzzy and had big, pink furry feet. She was very gentle with us and didn't seem to mind letting us take our time to savor the wonderful milk. I thought it strange, however, that mommy could talk and we couldn't, but I still thought she was something special and Mr. called her "Mom", so she must be my mommy, right?

I said to my brothers - "Isn't mommy beautiful - all pink and furry?" They just smiled at each other. You see I was much smaller than they were, and being the only girl, they protected me at all times.

After a few weeks my mommy picked me up and said, "this puppy looks funny - different from the others - she's getting fuzzy around her nose and she's turning gray. Something is wrong here."

I wasn't happy to hear that. I didn't want to be different because I could see my brothers were very handsome - all shiny brown, black and white. I thought mommy must be joking.

Once again we were going for a ride - this time in a basket to some place called the "vet." It turned out to be a nice man in a white coat who took my brothers out of the basket one by one, admired them, checked them all over and then stuck them with a pin of some sort.

I was really nervous. Finally, it was my turn. Mommy got really quiet. The nice man turned me round and round and said, "What's this?" Mommy said, "I was hoping you could tell me." Well, the nice man told mommy we must have had two daddys - my brothers had one daddy and I had another. Well, I didn't mind. I had my mommy and that was all that mattered.

My brothers acted kind of sad on the ride home and finally Spike said, "Maggie (that's what mommy called me) we all have new homes promised to us; but since you aren't quite a Beagle, I am afraid your promised people won't want you now."

Oh, what will become of me, I thought. I cried myself to sleep that night, sure that no one would love me now that I wasn't quite a Beagle.

We knew there were other big dogs in the house but they weren't allowed in our little room for fear they would hurt us. The day after the visit to the vet, I was still feeling down and ugly and unwanted when mommy came in and said, "After I feed you, I have someone who wants to meet you."

We all ate as quickly as possible and mommy opened the door and in walked this beautiful, big red dog. Mommy said, "Crash, these are the puppies." Crash looked at us curiously and we looked at him. Gosh, he was big! Then, he came over to me and with his big nose, gently pushed me away from my brothers and out into a hallway. He told me I was going to be HIS puppy from now on. I was so proud. He had chosen me; and since he lived here, I guessed that meant that I was going to stay with him and mommy. He had a daddy too, I learned later, and he loved him a lot - just like we both loved mommy.

Eventually, I said goodby to each of my real Beagle brothers and they went on to their new homes and to new adventures. I wasn't afraid or too sad, though, since Crash was teaching me a lot of neat stuff and I was busy learning from him. He would get a treat when he was good and he would split it with me. I didn't have very strong teeth as yet, so he would chew up his treat and push half towards me. That way, I could eat it and not have to chew very hard.

As I grew, I became gray and curly. Mommy said I looked like a "Schnaube." She said I was beautiful, though, and Crash loved me too, so I was happy. Crash taught me to play ball, walked me around the fenced-in yard so I wouldn't get into trouble, and taught me how to lay down with my back feet out behind me like he did and it was very comfortable that way. He taught me to love vegetables when mommy was cooking (they would "accidentally" would fall down to the floor for us).

Crash had a sister, Uschi. They were both from Germany. Crash said that was far, far away. Uschi didn't like me very much. I guessed it was because Crash gave me all his attention.

Crash liked to roam, but he would always tell me to stay in the yard and never, ever follow him. Sometimes he would be gone for hours and mommy would get very upset and cry.

One February night we were outside and Crash said, "Stay in the yard - I'm going to take a run before we have to go back inside." I begged him to stay with me because it was so cold and dark; but he said, "Don't worry, I'll be back soon."

Mommy and Crash's daddy set out to look for him, after he had been gone a long time. When they came back, they were both crying and I never saw Crash again. They buried him under their dogwood tree. I heard them say a car had hit him and never even stopped.

I cried for days. Uschi just seemed to get very old. She laid behind the woodstove and wouldn't come out. I spent most of my time on mommy's lap consoling her, and she me.

A few months later, mommy came home with a present for daddy - a ball of liver and white fur - a puppy - a Springer Spaniel, they said. At last - someone to play with. Now I could teach this little guy what Crash had taught me. Life was looking up again. Even Uschi seemed to brighten up a bit. They named him Limey and we had some great times. Then, he grew up and because he was so much bigger than I was, we didn't play anymore.

Then one day mommy came home with another new puppy - this puppy had the biggest ears I had ever seen. She was Sadie, a Bassett. Again, I had a new puppy to play with, and by this time there were three more little children in our family, Caleb, Casey, and little Molly Rose. I loved them a lot. We had such fun!

Now we are all grown up and none of us play much anymore. Uschi went away to be with Crash, and we moved to a new place - some place called South Carolina. Mommy still plays "squeaky toy" with me now and then, but really I still miss my Crash.

Now that I am older, I know a lot of things I used to believe aren't true, but I refuse to let anyone tell me my mommy isn't this soft, fluffy, pink-footed lady I live with. (Even though she is only pink and furry at night times or early in the morning.)

At night when I say my prayers, I am always thankful I was "not quite a Beagle" and thankful I get to live here with my mommy, daddy, Limey and Sadie and that I once knew a big, red dog named Crash.