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  The Bad Hat shrugged. “Whatever you say, Your Royal Highness.”

  Instead of being insulted, Jack looked serene. “I think you’re embarrassed, because you’re way too big and clumsy.”

  Well, you know, he actually was kind of clumsy. People were always yelling at him for knocking things over, but he couldn’t help it. He had big feet, and long legs, and he just wasn’t very graceful.

  A Brindle Pit Bull mix named Josephine came galloping over to them. “I get to go today! I get to go!”

  Jack nodded. “I know. That is wicked excellent.”

  Sometimes, the Bad Hat felt as though the rest of the world might be five or six steps ahead of him. He figured he was probably reasonably smart, but he had a lot of—gaps. “Um, where you going?”

  “The adoption fair,” Josephine said happily. “I can’t wait!”

  Nope, he was still out of step. “What’s an adoption fair?” he asked.

  “Oh.” Josephine stopped romping after a monarch butterfly for a moment. “Well, it’s a fair. And people come to our booth and pat us and take pictures. And then, maybe, they adopt us!”

  If he asked, What’s a fair? or What’s a booth? they were going to think he was an idiot.

  Which he maybe was.

  “They have it on the village green,” Josephine said. “Or in the gym at the high school, if it’s raining. And there’s food, and exhibits, and music, and a bunch of people walk by and ask if they can take us home.”

  What was a village green? Oh, well, the food part sounded interesting, anyway. “Have you ever been to an adoption fair?” he asked Jack.

  Jack nodded enthusiastically. “I got to go to the one in July. It was so fun. I know all of the people really liked me, but—” Now, he faltered. “Well, I didn’t meet anyone who I thought was interesting enough to take me home.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “Well, sure, that makes sense,” the Bad Hat said. “Next time, maybe.”

  “That’s right!” Jack said, back to his normal cocky self. “They’ll be lining up for the chance to adopt me.”

  For Jack’s sake, the Bad Hat certainly hoped so.

  “I bet they will,” Josephine said in an encouraging voice. Then, she scampered off to chase the butterfly some more.

  “Hey, maybe we’ll get adopted together,” Jack said. “And then, we could live in the same house, and be best friends forever!”

  The Bad Hat blinked. “We’re best friends?” Since when?

  “Of course we are,” Jack said. “Didn’t you know that?”

  Nope. And, the thought kind of made him shudder.

  Jack tilted his head uncertainly. “You want to be my best friend, right?”

  Well, except for the part where he was a proud and independent loner, destined to wander the world by himself, causing trouble and searching for fame and adventure and all.

  “Right?” Jack asked.

  The little Terrier’s eyes were so full of hope, that the Bad Hat wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t want to hurt the squirt’s feelings. “Sorry, little man, that’s not really my thing. I’ve never had any friends,” he said finally. “So, I don’t think I know how to do that.” Didn’t even want to learn how, for that matter.

  “Don’t worry,” Jack said. “I can teach you. I have lots of friends. But, you’re my favorite!”

  To the Bad Hat’s surprise, hearing that made him feel kind of warm inside. Almost like a normal, carefree dog. “That’s really nice of you,” he said. “But, it’s not—could we maybe start off by being colleagues?”

  Jack stared at him. “Colleagues?”

  Well, it sounded better than “prison acquaintances.” “Sorry,” the Bad Hat said. “That’s the best I can do.”

  “You’re very strange,” Jack said, “but, okay. For now, we’ll be colleagues.”

  It was quiet for a moment.

  “Are colleagues allowed to head-butt each other?” the dog asked.

  Jack laughed. “Yes!”

  Well, okay, then. That didn’t sound too awful. “All right,” the Bad Hat said. “It’s a deal.”

  “Yay!” Jack said, and dashed away across the meadow. “Catch me if you can!”

  Piece of cake. The Bad Hat loped after him, closing the distance in a few long strides. Then, he head-butted him across a bed of bright yellow dandelions.

  Being colleagues might actually be fun!

  CHAPTER FOUR

  After lunch, several of the animals, including Josephine, were loaded into a big van full of pet carriers. All of the remaining dogs stood in their outside runs to watch.

  “We’ll get to go next time, I’m sure of it,” Jack said.

  Whatever. But, the Bad Hat nodded pleasantly.

  “You bet, Jack,” MacNulty said, striding back and forth in the concrete run on the other side of the Bad Hat’s kennel. He had so much energy that he paced nonstop most of the time during the day, and the rescue group people seemed to be worried that he might have, like, Dog Attention Deficit Disorder. Border Collie Inactivity Disorder, more likely.

  “I’m not going to let them put a light blue ribbon on me next time,” Jack said. “I think it made me look a little frou-frou.”

  The Bad Hat thought that all small dogs, including Terriers, were sort of innately frou-frou. “Oh, yeah, don’t let them do that to you,” he said. “Have some dignity, little man.”

  “I actually looked cuter than a bug’s ear,” Jack said, sounding defensive. “I just want to, you know, set a different tone next time. Be sort of outdoorsy and all.”

  The Bad Hat nodded. “Get a black leather collar with spikes on it. You’ll be awesome that way.”

  Jack looked eager. “I bet I will, yeah. Thanks, Bad Hat!”

  “No problem. Here to serve,” the Bad Hat said.

  Or not.

  The afternoon seemed to drag by, although lunch was a definite highlight. Most of the dogs took long naps, and the Bad Hat was quite sure that the cats were all sleeping inside the house. Of course, cats seemed to nap about twenty-two hours a day, so that wasn’t anything unusual.

  The Bad Hat was really bored. So, he paced for a while, matching his steps with MacNulty’s.

  “Remember,” MacNulty said sternly. “You and I are only colleagues, not friends.”

  Great. The dog sighed. “He told you that?”

  “Told everyone,” MacNulty said.

  Super. “Do you like ‘compatriots’ better?” the dog asked.

  MacNulty shook his head.

  Okay, whatever. But, he was still going to keep a polite, professional distance from all of them. “Anyway. How come Pico doesn’t have a kennel, like the rest of us?” he asked.

  “She has arthritis,” MacNulty said, jittering around. “So, it wouldn’t be comfortable for her. She usually sleeps on Thomas and Joan’s bed, I think, or by the fireplace, or on the floor in the office. Cole says they took her off the website, but I’m not sure why.”

  It was easy enough to figure out why. “Because they’re keeping her,” the Bad Hat said. “Why else?”

  “Oh.” MacNulty paused, holding a front paw and a back paw in midair. “You know, you might be right about that.”

  Of course he was right. He was always right. Soon, they would figure that out—and worship at his shrine. “They’re keeping Florence, too,” the Bad Hat said.

  Jack, who was sprawled out in his kennel in the sun, opened his eyes. “What? No way. Florence is unadoptable. You know, because of her zillions of disabilities and medical conditions.”

  And the cranky-pants thing. But, he could see the front porch of the house from his kennel, and the truth was pretty obvious. Joan was sitting in a rocking chair, and Florence was on her lap, purring and smacking her with a front paw every so often. Joan would just laugh and keep patting her. The main thing the Bad Hat noticed was that they both looked very pleased with each other.

  “The reason Florence is unadoptable is because she already has a hom
e,” he said.

  MacNulty shrugged. “We all do, sort of. Until we get to go to our real homes with our new families.”

  Nope, not in this case. “Florence is home,” the Bad Hat said. “Look at them. Joan is her person.”

  Jack tried to peer around him. When that didn’t work, he leaped up and down, to try and see past him.

  “Why don’t you just ask me to move over?” the Bad Hat suggested.

  “Oh.” Jack stopped jumping. “That sure would be easier.”

  No kidding. The Bad Hat took a few steps backwards, out of the way.

  Jack glanced at the porch. “So, Joan’s patting her. What’s the big deal? She pats all of us.”

  “No, really look at them,” the Bad Hat said. “They’re a team. They’re pretending she’s unadoptable, so that she gets to stay here.”

  “Oh.” Jack watched as Florence swung a shaky paw at Joan, with surprisingly good aim. “How come when people come to visit, I hear them say, ‘What’s wrong with that cat,’ and all?”

  The trembling and staggering and everything were all sort of startling, at first, but seemed normal, after a while. “I’m just telling you I see love there, little man,” the Bad Hat said. Which made him feel sad, because he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be really loved by a person. Not loved, because he was a dog, and the person happened to like dogs and was friendly to him. How would it feel to be loved because someone thought he was truly special  ? Because he was a specific dog? Not that it would ever happen—but, still. Thinking about it made him feel wistful.

  And that maybe he should stop drinking the water here, if he was going to go and think adoption thoughts.

  “Well, that’s good,” Jack said. “Because this place would fall apart without Florence. She runs the show.”

  It certainly seemed that way. And it was good to see that she had a bond with someone who appreciated her. Florence had clearly had a pretty rough time, so it made him feel happy that she was now safe and secure and loved.

  If, that is, he was prone to emotion, and cared about stuff like that.

  Which everyone knew that he didn’t.

  At all.

  Not even a tiny bit.

  • • •

  The long, lazy afternoon poked along, but everyone woke up instantly and ran outside when the van turned onto the dirt driveway, returning from the adoption fair. An unfamiliar white SUV was trundling right behind it, its tires raising clouds of dust in the air.

  “Yo, someone got picked,” Lancelot said quietly.

  The other dogs nodded, looking very serious.

  Why was he always lost? “What do you mean?” the Bad Hat asked.

  “Adopters,” Lancelot said. “They must have picked someone, and they’re coming here to fill out the paperwork and get approved and everything.”

  “Maybe they’ll want two dogs,” Jack said. “And they’ll take me, too!”

  The Bad Hat could feel a surge of hope racing around the kennels, so all of the other dogs must have been wishing the same thing. He wasn’t about to upset them by saying that it was very unlikely, and what did he know, anyway? The people might want two dogs. But, he would be careful to look distant and unapproachable, so that they wouldn’t be tempted to pick him. In fact, he decided to lie down on the cement and pretend to be resting.

  The van and the four-wheel-drive car had now stopped in the driveway. Some people were getting out of the car, looking excited. A family. Two parents, and a little boy. But, all of his former owners had looked excited, too, on that first day. It had worn off pretty fast.

  “They’re coming, they’re coming, they’re coming!” Jack shouted.

  Talk about destroying a fellow’s much-needed sleep. The Bad Hat opened his eyes. “Who’s coming?”

  “The people!” Jack said. “They’ll come out here to see us now. And maybe they’ll adopt a bunch of us!”

  The Bad Hat was so not interested.

  Jack ran to the main door of his kennel. “Come and see, Bad Hat, it’s exciting!”

  He didn’t want to crush the little guy’s enthusiasm, so the Bad Hat dragged himself up and went inside.

  “Think they’re looking for me?” Jack asked. “I hope they’re looking for me. I’m right there, on the website. Cole showed me. And I’m wicked photogenic.”

  As far as the Bad Hat knew, he had never been photographed as anything other than a blur of black fur.

  Once the family began walking down the corridor, Jack got so charged up that the Bad Hat could hear him jumping wildly and bouncing off the walls.

  “Well, that’s a cute little dog,” a woman’s voice remarked. “He has quite a lot to say, doesn’t he?”

  And how.

  “Wow, look at him jump!” a little boy’s voice said. “I can’t believe how high off the floor he can get!”

  “Jack is quite a special dog,” Joan said. “He’s going to make such a wonderful companion for someone.”

  The little boy giggled. “He licked my hand. It feels funny.”

  “That means he likes you,” the little boy’s mother said. “I can tell you’re going to be a really good dog person.”

  “I am,” the boy said proudly. “And I’ll help with the walks, and the feeding, and everything.”

  His parents laughed.

  “Well, we’re planning to hold you to that, Freddy,” his father said.

  Knowing that the people were going to walk by his kennel next, the Bad Hat went to sit in the far corner, facing away from them.

  “That’s a beautiful Retriever,” the man said. “What’s his name?”

  “Webster,” Joan answered. “He’s our newest rescue. We’re still getting to know him.”

  “Hey, Webster,” the little boy said. “Come here, boy!”

  The Bad Hat stayed where he was, ignoring all of them. If he didn’t act friendly, there was no chance anyone would be interested in adopting him.

  “He doesn’t like me,” the little boy said, with his voice quavering.

  The Bad Hat sighed. Yes, he was an antisocial grouch, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to make small children cry. So, he got up and went over to the door, and allowed the little boy to reach through and pat him on the head.

  “He does like me!” the little boy said happily.

  The Bad Hat let him pat him for another few seconds, and then went back to sit in the corner.

  “That was great,” Joan said to the little boy. “That’s as friendly and responsive as he’s been to anyone so far. Thank you!”

  The little boy beamed, and he and his parents continued down the hall, admiring each of the dogs in turn.

  All of the dogs were barking and jumping up against their kennel doors to greet the adopters. There was a rumor that the family had filed an application to adopt Josephine and had been approved, and that they were going to have a private meet-and-greet session with her, to make sure it was a good adoption match. But, that didn’t stop all of the dogs around the Bad Hat from hoping that the people might decide that they wanted to bring home two dogs.

  Even he couldn’t resist going out to his fenced-in run to watch as the family played with Josephine in the meadow, and got to know her better. Josephine barked, and rolled, and scampered with the little boy, while his parents watched with big smiles on their faces.

  “Someone’s going home tonight,” MacNulty said quietly.

  The Bad Hat nodded. It certainly looked that way.

  When he had been in other shelters, it had always been difficult for the animals when someone else got adopted. They were all happy for their lucky friend—but, it was hard not to be envious, too.

  The first time he had been adopted, he was only about five months old, and still growing—a lot. So, when a young couple came into the pound and wanted to give him a home, he was overjoyed. It was fun, at first, and they seemed to like him when he only weighed about twenty pounds. By the time he hit thirty-five pounds, they were losing interest, and when it was c
lear he was only half grown, they decided that he was “too big,” and gave him away—to a guy who also didn’t like him, and abandoned him at a local animal shelter late one rainy night, by tying his leash to the locked back door.

  That had been a terrifying night, and he’d been really hungry, and so cold that he couldn’t stop shaking the whole time.

  When the first shelter worker arrived in the morning to open up for the day, instead of saying something gentle like, Let’s get you dried off, you poor pup, he groaned and said, “Oh no, not another one.”

  There was always a lot of talk in the shelters about no one wanting to adopt black dogs. And when a stray dog was old, or sick, or had behavior problems, really bad things that the Bad Hat couldn’t even think about would usually happen.

  He was in that particular shelter for a couple of weeks, crammed into a small cage with a cold concrete floor. Then, he was put in a truck, with about fifty other dogs, and they drove for about two days, until he ended up somewhere in New Hampshire—at yet another shelter. That was where the mean family had come and picked him out—before getting rid of him.

  So, yeah, he had earned the right to be cynical and grumpy. But, that didn’t mean that watching Josephine dance happily around in the meadow with the boy and his parents wasn’t breaking his heart a little.

  After a while, Josephine and the family went into the house, and were inside for what seemed like hours.

  “Finishing the paperwork,” MacNulty said.

  Seemed likely, yeah. The Bad Hat nodded.

  Finally, the family came outside again, with the little boy proudly walking Josephine on a brand-new blue leash. The parents shook hands with Joan and Thomas, who both leaned down to give Josephine a farewell hug.

  Josephine wagged her tail so hard that her whole body shook.

  “Bye!” she barked towards the kennels, right before she got into the car. “I’ll miss you guys!”

  They all barked things back like, “Good luck!” and “We’ll miss you, too!” and “Have fun!”

  After the SUV drove down the driveway and out of sight, it got very quiet in the kennels. Jack turned and went inside, without saying anything. The Bad Hat heard him lie down on his bed and start crying. Crying hard.