Guinea Dog 2 by Patrick Jennings

Author:Patrick Jennings [Jennings, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60684-453-3
Publisher: EgmontUSA
Published: 2013-08-26T16:00:00+00:00

16. I’m not in the mood to hear about hairy, clawed frogs.

But Murphy keeps telling me about them anyway.

“When they feel threatened, they break their own toes, which poke through their skin, and become—you’ll never believe it—claws!”

Come on, Murphy. A frog with hair isn’t bizarre enough without having to add claws made of broken toes? What’s with the hard sell?

Which leads me to wonder if it’s really true. Nothing is weirder than nature. Look at the platypus. Or Fido. But Murphy enjoys playing around with the truth. He loves convincing me that a made-up thing is real (once he got me to believe that poisonous ducks had descended on Rustbury) and convincing me that a real thing is made up (for example, polar bears have black skin).

I wonder what I would have said if he had told me about a guinea pig that obeys commands, plays Fetch, and runs alongside your bike—a “guinea dog.” I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have believed him. Then again, Murphy is a champion persuader.

So I listen to him talk about the hairy frog as we walk to school, even though I’m not in the mood. I told Dad I didn’t want a ride today, that I could make it on foot. I don’t have my crutches, even. Walking with the medical boot has gotten easier. I use the weight of it to propel me forward, then set it down lightly, and push off hard with the other foot. I probably look like Captain Hook, but at least it works. And Murphy’s with me, in case I fall on my face, or butt.

“The problem is, they’re not only acting in self-defense anymore,” he says. “They’re going on the offensive. Slashing up fish in the lake. Slashing ducks.”

“Poisonous ducks?” I ask.

“No, regular ducks.” My sarcasm doesn’t slow him down. “You know the guy who works at the roller rink? The guy with the cobra tattoo on his neck? They got his Chihuahua. Cut him up pretty bad. We should go to the lake and see if we can find one. I’ve seen pictures of them online, and they’re freaky. They have hair growing around their waists, like they’re wearing hula skirts.”

“Murph?” I interrupt, and point to my boot.

“Oh, right. We’d never get there and back in time for school. We’ll go after.”

“I’m going to look for Fido after school.”

Murphy slaps his forehead. “Ack! Of course you are! I mean, we are. I’ll help you.”

“My dad made this great poster. He’s out hanging them all over the neighborhood.”

I pull one of them out of my bag. Dad asked me to pass some out at school, but I’m not going to. I know kids will make a big fuss, and I don’t need more fuss than I’m already getting. Plus, I don’t want kids who want a guinea dog to go looking for Fido, and maybe find her, and keep her. Finders keepers, and all that.

“Cool!” Murphy says.

“Yeah, my dad makes cool posters,” I say, then try to think of other cool things he makes.

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