Cody Harmon, King of Pets Page 5

  Annika’s beagle, Prime, wore a superhero cape covered with math equations like 2 + 2 = 4. But just because a dog wore a math cape didn’t mean the dog could do math.

  Cody saw Kelsey and Puffball, both in costume. Kelsey wore a red cloak with a hood and carried a small cloth-covered basket. The cat wore an old-lady cap and wire-rimmed glasses. Oh. Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother! Cody got it now.

  Furface was decked out in a tiara and jewels. Maybe Cody should change her name to Princess Furface.

  Chicklet wore a necklace made of Chicklets.

  Daisy wore a wreath of fake daisies.

  Doodle wore a tiny polka-dot birthday party hat.

  Cody was surprised how well the chickens walked with their string leashes tied around their necks.

  Then he saw Tobit dragging Sir B, who did not look pleased in a tinfoil contraption that appeared to have been thrown together that morning. Cody had no idea what it was supposed to be, or if it was even supposed to be anything. Tobit laughed as if it was funny that Sir B was so mad. This wasn’t like Izzy’s gale of giggles at Angus’s spaghetti-and-meatballs costume. Roosters don’t like being led around by someone else; roosters like to be the ones doing the leading.

  Then—it happened so fast—Cody couldn’t tell if Sir B yanked loose from Tobit’s grip or if Tobit let him go on purpose for the fun of seeing what would happen next.

  What happened next was an enraged rooster flapping himself fiercely toward other kids’ dogs, cats, and ankles and shaking off pieces of tinfoil everywhere. That set off a din of barking and caterwauling. Angus’s bark was loudest.

  Cody let go of Mr. Piggins’s halter. The pig had enough sense to stand still. Pigs are not easily flustered.

  He darted up to Sir B, grabbed him, and covered him in one quick motion with some kid’s sweatshirt that had been dropped onto the gym floor. He could feel the agitated rooster calm down in the comforting darkness. Then he carried Sir B over to his dad.

  See?! Cody felt like shouting to his classmates. Pet costumes are dumb! And pet costume parades are even dumber!

  But he was maddest at Tobit, who stood there in the middle of the gym floor still laughing.

  10

  With order finally restored and all the pets back in their places, Mr. Boone, no longer in his elephant costume, came to the microphone on the judges’ table.

  “The time has come,” Mr. Boone said, “to announce the prizes.”

  Cody could see the teachers busy counting the slips of paper kids had dropped into the ballot box for the popularity prize. The only rule was that you couldn’t vote for your own pet.

  “Best snake,” Mr. Boone read from the judges’ list, “Jake. Exhibited by Tara Ling.” The kids in Mrs. Rodriguez-Haramia’s class cheered extra loud.

  He called out best hamster, best guinea pig, best fish, best hermit crab (Cody had missed seeing that one), best rabbit, and best ferret (Jackson’s Ferrari).

  “Best rooster: Sir B. Exhibited by Tobit Johnson.”

  Of course, Sir B was the only rooster. But the rules didn’t say that there had to be more than one pet in each category. Jake the snake had been the only snake. And Sir B hadn’t been a particularly well-behaved rooster. But he wouldn’t have gotten loose if it hadn’t been for Tobit.

  “Best chicken.” Who would it be? Cody divided his heart into thirds, rooting for each chicken equally. “Daisy,” Mr. Boone read. Millie and Hazel hugged each other.

  “Best pig: Mr. Piggins. Exhibited by Cody Harmon.” The cheers from the whole gym made Cody think Mr. Piggins had a good chance at the popularity prize.

  “Best cat.” Furface! Puffball! But the prize went to a cat belonging to a girl in Mr. Knox’s class.

  Then the final species prize.

  “Best dog.” It had to be Rex! It just had to be. “Rex. Exhibited by Simon Ellis.”

  Hooray!

  “And now,” Mr. Boone said, “best in show.” That meant the best pet in all the categories put together, the best pet in the whole entire third grade at Franklin School.

  To add drama, Mr. Boone rapped out a drumbeat on the judges’ table.

  “The prize for best of show goes to … Rex! Exhibited by Simon Ellis.”

  Cody’s eyes brimmed with tears of pride. Rex, exhibited by Simon Ellis, but loved by Cody Harmon. Kids who didn’t know any better were congratulating Simon. Cody didn’t mind. Rex was his dog, his dog forever.

  “Last but not least,” Mr. Boone said, looking at the paper handed him by Mrs. Molina. “The popularity prize goes to…” He beat another drumroll on the table. But he didn’t even need to announce the name because some kid started the chant, and other students took it up: “Mis-ter Pig-gins! Mis-ter Pig-gins!”

  Mr. Boone held up his hand to silence them.

  “The prize goes to … I’m not sure I can read the handwriting here.” Cody could tell he was joking; teachers had extremely excellent printing and cursive. “The first word starts with an M, and then there’s a second word. I think it starts with a D? No, a P. Wait … Okay, I think I can read it now. The popularity prize goes to Mr. Piggins, exhibited by Cody Harmon.”

  More cheers rocked the gym.

  The proudest hour of Cody’s life was over.

  * * *

  On his way back to Mrs. Molina’s room, with the pets safely loaded into his dad’s pickup, Cody found Tobit blocking his path.

  “Why?” Tobit demanded, as if he were a troll demanding payment before he would let Cody pass.

  “Why what?” Cody asked, even though he could guess what Tobit was asking.

  “I wanted to take Rex, and you let Simon take him, and then Simon got best dog and best in show, which is like winning best of everything, when he already wins best of everything all the time! I’m your best friend, and you let Super-Duper-Pooper Simon take Rex?”

  Everything Tobit had said was true.

  What Cody said next was true, too. “You shouldn’t have thrown that stone at Stubby.”

  Tobit looked blank, as if he had no idea what Cody was talking about.

  “The stone?” Cody prompted. “When we were playing Boo-RIP? That you threw at Stubby? The squirrel?”

  Comprehension dawned on Tobit’s face. Then he flushed pink with rage.

  “That’s why you wouldn’t let me take Rex? Because of a dumb squirrel? A dumb squirrel that doesn’t even have a tail?”

  “He’s not dumb! And he can’t help his tail! And I did let you take Sir B anyway, and you let Sir B get loose on purpose, I know you did.”

  “Didn’t you think it was funny?” Tobit asked. “Come on, it was.”

  “It wasn’t funny! Pets might have gotten hurt. Sir B might have gotten hurt.”

  Tobit shoved Cody, hard.

  Cody shoved back, harder.

  Suddenly Mr. Boone was there, with a hand on each boy’s shoulder.

  “Boys,” he said sorrowfully, “what’s this about? Maybe we’d better go into my office and work things out.”

  The next thing Cody knew, he was sitting in one of the chairs facing Mr. Boone’s large cluttered desk, with Tobit there beside him. Cody had never been in the principal’s office before. He had expected it to be a scary place, sort of like a jail for bad kids. But this office felt friendly. The overstuffed armchairs were cozy. There was a big jar of M&M’s on Mr. Boone’s desk, with a little spigot you could turn to release a few into your hand.

  “Have some,” Mr. Boone told them, pointing to the M&M’s. “I might have some myself.” He took a generous handful and popped them into his mouth in one big gulp.

  Cody shook his head in response to the principal’s invitation. He was too upset at Tobit to feel like nibbling on candy. Tobit didn’t take any either.

  “So,” Mr. Boone said then, “what’s going on?”

  “He wouldn’t let me borrow Rex!” Tobit burst out. “He let Simon have him instead!”

  “He threw a stone at Stubby!” Cody shot back. “And he let Sir B loose on
purpose!”

  After both boys had a chance to explain, Mr. Boone didn’t say anything for a long time. Then he said, “Do you want to know why I didn’t ride an elephant to school today?”

  The question was so surprising that Cody stole a glance at Tobit to see if Tobit looked puzzled, too. He did.

  Both boys shook their heads.

  “I wanted to ride an elephant,” Mr. Boone said. “Ever since I was your age, I’ve wanted to ride an elephant.”

  Cody tried to picture Mr. Boone as a chubby, bald nine-year-old boy. He couldn’t do it.

  “So I looked for an elephant to borrow for today. And I found one, at a small local company that rents out exotic pets—elephants, giraffes, gorillas—for birthday parties. But when I went there to reserve my elephant, I couldn’t do it.”

  “Why?” Cody asked.

  “It was too sad.” The principal had tears in his eyes, remembering. “That huge majestic beast … in this cramped cage. It should have been free in the wild, but it was being hired out for entertainment, to be ridden into an elementary school by a fellow like me. I couldn’t go through with it.”

  Tears stung Cody’s eyes, too.

  “So,” Mr. Boone said, “you may be wondering what this has to do with dogs, squirrels, and roosters.”

  Cody did.

  “I’m saying, Cody, that I understand why you were upset that someone would hurt a squirrel and tease a rooster. And, Tobit, I’m saying that I didn’t realize at first that my elephant plan was a bad idea. I was ready to treat an animal in a way that wasn’t kind because I didn’t know how bad it would make the elephant feel.”

  Cody waited to see if Mr. Boone would say anything else.

  But all he said was, “Okay, boys, have some M&M’s.”

  Cody took a handful. Tobit did, too.

  “And now I need to get to the second-grade part of the pet show. I heard one girl there has a pet tarantula!”

  11

  When Cody and Tobit returned to Mrs. Molina’s class, math time was under way. Cody handed her their pass from Mr. Boone, took his seat, and opened his math book. Even on the day of the pet show, Mrs. Molina’s class still did math. If a tornado were to hit the school, Cody was sure Mrs. Molina’s class would be doing math in the tornado shelter. If an earthquake struck, Mrs. Molina’s class would do math amid the rubble.

  After math came silent reading.

  “Cody,” Mrs. Molina called as the students were opening their books. “Come here, please.”

  Did Mrs. Molina know that he and Tobit had been shoving each other in the hall? He was pretty sure she wouldn’t deal with boys who had been fighting by telling stories about an elephant.

  Cody walked slowly to her desk.

  “Cody,” she said, “thank you for sharing your pets with your classmates so that everyone would be able to participate today. And congratulations on getting pet show prizes for so many of them!”

  He let out his breath with relief.

  “But, Cody”—this was starting to sound more like regular Mrs. Molina—“I gave you until today to present me with an acceptable animal report. Do you have it with you?”

  Despite his mother’s reminder, Cody had completely forgotten to turn it in.

  “It’s in my backpack!”

  He raced to the coat cubby, unzipped his backpack, grabbed his report, and thrust it—three pages plus bibliography—into Mrs. Molina’s hands. She read through it, page after page, as he stood there waiting.

  “Cody,” she said once she had finished, “what have you learned here?”

  He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. He had certainly learned a lot of facts about pigs.

  Mrs. Molina answered for him. “You learned that you can write a fine report if you put your mind to it.”

  And then she smiled.

  * * *

  Outside at lunch recess, Cody saw Izzy, Kelsey, and Annika huddled together on a bench at the edge of the playground.

  He looked more closely.

  Izzy was crying. Kelsey had her arm around Izzy’s shoulders. Annika knelt down in front of her, patting Izzy’s knee.

  It was none of Cody’s business why Izzy was crying. Who knew why girls cried? One day Kelsey had cried during silent reading just because of the book she had finished! Just because of a made-up thing that happened to a made-up person in a story!

  But Izzy had cared when Cody was worried about the pet show. She had brought her friends over to his house to figure out pet costumes. And she had taken such good care of his second-best dog.

  As Cody drew nearer to the girls, Kelsey jumped up and practically dragged him over to Izzy.

  “I … miss … Angus!” Izzy choked out the words between sobs. “And I know Angus … misses me.”

  Cody didn’t know what to say. “You can come visit him,” he offered.

  “Last night he slept in my bed!” Izzy wailed.

  “He can come for another sleepover,” Cody promised. “He can come for lots of sleepovers.”

  “But then I’ll still have to say goodbye. Every single time, I’ll have to say goodbye.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Nine pets is a lot,” Annika said, as if she were just stating a mathematical fact.

  “It’s like a story,” Kelsey said. “Like a new super-sad ending to the word problem I wrote for Mrs. Molina. Instead of living happily ever after with her princess friends, Princess Izzabella has to be separated from her one true love.”

  There was another silence.

  Cody loved Angus the way he loved Furface, Puffball, Daisy, Doodle, Chicklet, Sir B, and Mr. Piggins. But not the way he loved Rex. He loved Rex more.

  He loved Rex the way Izzy loved Angus. And Rex loved Cody the way Angus loved Izzy.

  “What about your parents?” he asked Izzy, stalling for time. “Do they like Angus, too?”

  “They love Angus,” Izzy corrected. “When he stayed with me they said it was time for me to get a dog, and I could go to the Humane Society and pick one out. But I said, I don’t want a dog. I want this dog.” Her voice was cracking again.

  Cody could still be king of pets with eight pets.

  A true pet king did whatever would make his pets the happiest.

  “I’ll talk to my mom and dad,” Cody said, “and if they say it’s okay—”

  Kelsey cut him off. “They will! I know they will!”

  Cody knew they would, too.

  Izzy leaped up and dashed away. At first Cody was surprised. Why would Izzy run away after he had practically told her that her dream was going to come true? But then, as he saw Izzy tearing around the school track, he got it. She was too happy to stand still.

  On she ran. Cody knew she was picturing a little terrier running along beside her.

  * * *

  With a few minutes left in lunch recess, Cody walked over to the fence, hoping to see Stubby. Two other, full-tailed squirrels were nibbling on acorns near the base of the oak tree. They froze in place when Cody appeared, but they didn’t flee.

  Cody heard someone coming up behind him.

  It was Tobit.

  “Hey,” Cody said cautiously.

  “Hey,” Tobit replied, his hands thrust into his pockets.

  At the sound of their voices, the two squirrels scrabbled up the tree.

  To break the awkward silence that followed, Cody picked up a stone. “I call P,” he said, and hit the target.

  Tobit picked one up, too. “I call R.” He missed.

  Then Cody caught a glimpse of a squirrel with a broken-off tail, atop the section of fence kitty-corner to where the boys were standing.

  “It’s Stubby,” Cody whispered.

  Tobit looked in the direction Cody was pointing.

  “Do you think he’s still mad at me?” Tobit asked in a low voice. “I don’t want him to be mad at me.”

  Cody thought for a moment. “Probably not. I bet he knows you didn’t mean it. I bet he knows you won’t do it again. Squirr
els don’t bear grudges. At least, I don’t think they do.”

  Tobit gave a hopeful grin.

  “Do you think Sir B would like it if I got him a present?” Tobit asked. “You know, just because?”

  “Sure!”

  “What kind of food does he like best?” Tobit asked.

  Cody didn’t have to think about that. “Mealworms.”

  “Cool!”

  Cody was glad Sir B would get his favorite treat. His pets had won a total of six prizes—six! Angus would get to be loved best in the world by Izzy. Rex would always be loved best in the world by Cody. And Tobit was his friend again.

  Pet show day at Franklin School was the best day ever.

  Fun Pet Facts

  Pet popularity can be judged in different ways. Dogs are the most popular pet in the United States as measured by the number of households with dogs (46.3 percent versus 38.9 percent with cats). But cats are more popular than dogs as measured by the total number of pet cats (95.6 million cats versus 83.3 million dogs). This is because the average cat-owning family has more than one cat. The most popular pet of all, however, measured in sheer numbers, is fish. People in the United States own a total of 142 million pet fish.

  The United States has more dogs than any other country in the world. The next four most dog-loving countries are Brazil, China, Russia, and Japan, with the Philippines, India, Argentina, France, and Romania rounding out the top ten.

  No one knows for sure when dogs first became domesticated, or tame and able to live side by side with humans. But it was at least ten thousand years ago. Dogs are believed to be the first domesticated animal.

  Cats have not been domesticated for as long as dogs, but they were revered in ancient Egypt. Egyptian paintings containing cats date from more than three thousand years ago, and it was a crime in ancient Egypt to harm a cat.

  The most popular names for dogs in the United States, according to one survey, are Max, Bella, and Bailey. The most popular names for cats are Bella, Max, and Chloe.