It's a Doggy Dog World Read online

  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  PART ONE: GOOD DOG

  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

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  PART TWO: BAD NEWS

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  EPILOGUE

  STAY TUNED! PAGE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO AVAILABLE

  COPYRIGHT

  THE CRIMEBITERS OATH

  We, the CrimeBiters,

  pledge to serve society,

  help our fellow human beings,

  protect the community from crime,

  defend each other against all enemies,

  preserve our freedoms and rights,

  and eat as much chocolate ice cream as possible.

  P.S. The CrimeBiters are the only ones who know my dog Abby’s secret (even though some of the other CrimeBiters don’t believe me).

  (OKAY, FINE—ALL THE OTHER CRIMEBITERS.)

  PROFILE UPDATE

  Name: Jimmy Bishop

  Age: 11

  Occupation: President and Founder, CrimeBiters

  Interests: Solving crime, protecting society, Daisy Flowers

  REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU about the time I adopted this dog, Abby, and she turned out to be this awesome crime-fighting vampire dog, and together with my pals Irwin Wonk and Daisy Flowers we solved the biggest crime to hit Quietville in years, and then we made friends with Baxter Bratford, the ex-bully and son of the criminal mastermind Barnaby Bratford, and the four of us (plus Abby) formed the CrimeBiters?

  Remember that?

  That was so awesome.

  If you don’t remember, then you’ll just have to trust me: Abby does have secret powers.

  She fights crime. She can fly, under certain conditions.

  She may well be a vampire.

  You believe me, right?

  Good. I’m glad.

  Because nobody else did, at first.

  But now people are starting to get it.

  People are beginning to understand what we’re dealing with here: one very special dog.

  With extra emphasis on special.

  “THIS MEETING OF THE CRIMEBITERS is called to order!” I announced.

  Abby, Irwin, Daisy, and I had just gotten to the old abandoned Boathouse, which had become our clubhouse. After tying Abby to a big tree, where she quickly fell asleep (she sleeps a lot during the day, just like most vampires), the rest of us headed up to the roof, where we had our weekly meetings.

  “Why do you always get to call the meeting to order?” Irwin asked.

  Sometimes there was no point in answering Irwin, so I ignored him.

  “Should we wait for Baxter?” Daisy asked. Baxter was the fourth member of our gang. “He’s not here yet.”

  “What else is new?” Irwin grumbled. Irwin wasn’t all that crazy about Baxter, because of who Baxter is. Or rather, who he used to be—a bully who made me and Irwin miserable. Also, he happens to be the son of Barnaby Bratford—the same Barnaby Bratford who was stealing jewelry from people all over town, until Abby, Daisy, Irwin, and I all helped catch him.

  So why did we invite his son the ex-bully to join the CrimeBiters?

  I guess the only answer is: It’s a long story.

  FACT: Everything you ever wanted to know about the Barnaby Bratford crime ring is in the first CrimeBiters book. It’s a really good book. And I’m not just saying that because I’m in it.

  “Baxter told me he’d be a little late,” I said. “We can start without him. Let’s begin with our criminal reports in and around the Quietville area. Daisy, please give us your update.”

  Daisy stood up and took out a piece of paper.

  “Case file for the week,” she announced. “Friday: While at the beach, I observed Mrs. Knofla putting down a cooler to reserve a picnic table and then leaving the area, which is strictly against town rules.”

  PROFILE UPDATE

  Name: Daisy Flowers

  Age: Just turned 11

  Occupation: Cofounder of the CrimeBiters

  Interests: Amazingly enough, wanting to hang around with us

  “Did you tell the beach patrol?” Irwin asked.

  “I wanted to,” Daisy said, “but my mom wouldn’t let me. She said people do it all the time, including her.”

  “Oh,” Irwin said.

  Daisy continued, “Tuesday: I observed four incidents of cell phone usage while driving. I advised the local traffic officer, who assured me he would keep a lookout for any further illegal activity of that kind.” She folded up her piece of paper. “That’s all for now.”

  “Thank you for that excellent update, Daisy,” I said. “Quietville is a safer place because of your dedication.”

  “Quietville is a safer place because nothing ever happens around here,” Irwin mumbled.

  “That’s not true,” I told him.

  Irwin rolled his eyes. “Why do think it’s called Quietville?”

  I rolled my eyes right back. “I don’t know! Now, do you have a report or not?”

  He stood up. “Yeah. Uh, I didn’t observe any suspicious activity this week.”

  “Seriously?” Daisy asked. “Not one thing?”

  “Nope.” Irwin shuffled his feet. “But I’m happy to report that my mom said our sweatshirts will be ready in two weeks.”

  “Sweet!” I said. Irwin and I high-fived. Team uniforms! This was a big moment in the life of our club. The sweatshirts looked so cool—they were blue and gold, had Abby’s picture on the front, and on the back it said CRIMEBITERS: SINKING OUR TEETH INTO BAD GUYS SINCE 2015.

  A voice came from downstairs. “Hey, everybody!” Baxter was making his way up to the roof. “Sorry I’m late. Lacrosse practice.”

  “So, what’s the deal with lacrosse?” Irwin asked. “Are you going to have to go to practice a lot?”

  “I don’t know, maybe,” Baxter said, self-consciously fiddling with his shirt collar. “The season only started a few weeks ago. Why?”

  Irwin harumphed. “I just want to know if it’s going to interfere with our meetings.”

  “But I love lacrosse,” Baxter said.

  “More than the gang?” Irwin challenged him.

  “Stop it, Irwin,” Daisy said. “It’s great that Baxter plays lacrosse, because it helps him forget about what happened with his dad.”

  “Whatever,” mumbled Irwin. The more Daisy stuck up for Baxter, the more annoyed Irwin got. “Sports are stupid anyway.”

  “They are not,” Daisy said. “Sports are great.”

  PROFILE UPDATE

  Name: Irwin Wonk

  Age: 11

  Occupation: Best Friend and Cofounder of the CrimeBiters

  Interests: Questioning everything I do

  PROFILE UPDATE

  Name: Baxter Bratford

  Age: 12

  Occupation: CrimeBiter

&nb
sp; Interests: Trying to make everyone forget he used to be a bully

  “My parents have been trying to get me to play a sport,” I blurted out, wanting to participate in the conversation. This was only half-true. They had mentioned it once, but after I stopped laughing, they didn’t bring it up again.

  But that was before Daisy announced that sports were great.

  “No, seriously,” I added. “They have.”

  The others all looked at me. Me taking up a sport was kind of like an elephant taking up tap dancing.

  “Why?” Irwin asked sensibly.

  “Because it will make me more well-rounded,” I said. “And they want me to get more exercise.”

  Abby suddenly woke up and started barking her head off at a chipmunk that was getting too close. She would have chased her to the next county too, if not for the leash I had tied around the tree.

  “Even Abby thinks you playing a sport is a crazy idea,” Daisy said, giggling.

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Irwin said, laughing way too loudly at Daisy’s joke.

  “Well, I already decided,” I said, annoyed. “I’m joining the lacrosse team with Baxter.” I hadn’t decided anything of the sort, of course, until that very second.

  “Cool!” Baxter said. “The season already started, but maybe they’ll let you join! Next practice is tomorrow.”

  “Wait, what?” I said. Tomorrow was really soon. The soonest possible day, in fact.

  “I’m sorry for laughing,” Daisy said. “I think it’s awesome. I promise to come to all your games.”

  The idea of Daisy watching me flounder around on the lacrosse field suddenly filled me with dread. I desperately searched for a way to take it all back, but couldn’t come up with anything.

  “Do you have a report for us, Baxter?” I asked finally.

  “I definitely do!” He sat down. “Yesterday, I was walking home from school when I saw a man get out of a car, take off all of his clothes except his underwear, run into some guy’s yard, jump in the pool, splash around, and yell, ‘I LOVE PIE! I LOVE PIE!’ and then run back to his car and drive away.”

  Oooh. This sounded exciting. “Did you report it?” I asked.

  Baxter nodded. “I was going to, but the guy in the car turned out to be your father.” He broke into a giant grin. “NAILED YA!”

  “I hate you!” I screamed, then jumped on him and wrestled him to the ground. We were both laughing, of course. One of our CrimeBiters traditions was to make up the most ridiculous crimes we could think of, and then say that someone’s family member did it. If anyone ever fell for it—like I just did—they had to bring the snacks for the next meeting.

  “I’ll take Yodels and Yoo-hoo,” Baxter gasped, between wrestles.

  “Those are the unhealthiest snacks ever,” Daisy said.

  Baxter and I got to our feet. “That concludes our official club business for today,” I panted, still out of breath. “Does anyone want to play tag before we go?”

  “I can’t,” Irwin said. “I gotta get home.”

  “Already?” I moaned. He had a really strict mom. My mom was really strict too, but she wasn’t home that much. My dad was home a lot, but he wasn’t strict at all.

  “Yup, already. I have a cello lesson.” Irwin stood up. “Daisy, do you want to walk home with me?”

  Well, I certainly wasn’t going to let that happen without me. “Fine, I’ll walk home with you guys too.”

  “You can’t,” Irwin said quickly. “Your mom is picking you up, remember?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said. We were taking our monthly trip to the farmer’s market. “So hold on—you guys are just going to walk home without me?”

  “What do you want us to do, sleep here?” Irwin said, with a little twinkle in his eyes.

  “Fine,” I said glumly.

  Baxter rolled his eyes. He was pretty tired of Irwin and me fighting over Daisy all the time. Not that I blamed him.

  FACT: Irwin has a major crush on Daisy.

  ANOTHER FACT: So do I.

  AND YET ANOTHER FACT: Daisy says it’s best if we’re all “just friends,” so things don’t get too complicated.

  THE LAST AND SADDEST FACT: She’s absolutely right.

  I untied Abby from the tree and we all formed a circle, put our hands into the middle, and yelled what we yelled at the end of every meeting.

  “CRIMEBITERS FOREVER!”

  “See you guys later,” Daisy said, and she and Irwin headed down the hill. As I waved good-bye, I tried not to feel too jealous of their walk home. I tried to convince myself that no matter what, we were a gang, and we were going to stick together. And overall, it had been a pretty good meeting. I was just starting to feel better when Baxter had to go and ruin it.

  “Welcome to the lacrosse team!” he said.

  HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO A FARMER’S MARKET?

  It’s basically a bunch of people walking around the parking lot of some school, pretending it’s 1857 and we’re all in a giant field somewhere. Meanwhile, almost everyone there is trying to sell you something that tastes terrible: carrots, cabbage, tomatoes, celery, brussels sprouts, and more gross stuff like that. There are also people who sell various kinds of melons and berries. Fruit is okay, I guess, if there’s nothing else to eat.

  There are two reasons, though, that I don’t mind going to the farmer’s market with my mom: One is that Abby gets to come, since it’s outside; and two is that there’s a big, bearded guy in overalls named Isaac who sells the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever tasted. Whenever we go there, we stop at Isaac’s booth first, and he usually slips me a few extra cookies on the side.

  “Only one cookie today,” my mom said as we got out of the car. She had her phone in her hand, as usual. She was pretty attached to her phone, even on weekends.

  “Isaac!” I said, running up to him.

  “Jimmy, my boy!” Isaac was grinning. “Had enough of those fruits and veggies?”

  “Ew!” I cried.

  He bent down to pet Abby. “Who’s a good girl?” he said. “How are you today? Hungry as usual?” Abby stared up at him and yawned. Isaac whistled, looking at her enormous fangs. “Wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of those babies, that’s for sure.”

  FACT: Abby has the biggest fangs in America.

  My mom shook hands with Isaac. “Actually, we’ll get a few cookies for dessert. Maybe half a dozen?”

  “Sounds great,” Isaac said.

  He went to pick out the chocolatiest, chippiest ones, while my mom turned back to me. “So, is this lacrosse thing for real?” On the way there I’d told her about my conversation with the rest of the gang, and she’d nearly driven off the road.

  “Yeah, it’s for real, whether I like it or not,” I said. “Daisy already promised she’d come to all the games.”

  My mom laughed. “Well, in that case!”

  Suddenly I felt a YANK!

  My whole arm jerked forward. Abby started pulling on her leash so hard that I could feel it down to my toes.

  “Abby!” I cried. “Settle down!”

  But she had no interest in settling down. In fact, she unsettled up.

  YANK! PULL! YANK! OUCH! YANK!

  On the fourth YANK! I couldn’t take it anymore. I dropped the leash, and Abby was off and running, with me right behind her, and my mom right behind me.

  “I’ll hold the cookies for you!” called Isaac.

  Through the kale stand, past the broccoli station, under the bread booth (the only other good stop in the whole place), over the beans display, and around the corner near the spinach section, Abby dashed and darted, knocking food onto the ground and making people drop their precious vegetables.

  FACT: There’s actually no such thing as precious vegetables.

  PROFILE UPDATE

  Name: Sarah Bishop

  Age: That’s private information she refuses to give out.

  Occupation: Something that involves nice clothes and a briefcase

  Interests: Telling my dad that
he’s too easy on me

  “Jimmy, catch her!” hollered my mom. “For crying out loud!”

  “I’m trying!”

  “Well, try harder!”

  Finally Abby saw what she was looking for.

  Out came the fangs.

  “Uh-oh,” I said out loud, even though no one was listening.

  I lunged for her, but I was too late. Abby launched herself up into the air, then landed on what looked like a perfectly nice lady, who was minding her own business, squeezing some melons to make sure they were ripe.

  “GRRRRR!” said Abby to the lady, throwing in a little fang just for fun.

  “ABBY, NO!” That was my mother, who had a look of pure horror on her face.

  The woman who’d been Abby’s target was too shocked to say anything. She just screamed, “AAAARRGGHHH!” and threw her pocketbook up into the air.

  Out of the pocketbook fell four extremely scrumptious-looking peanut-butter cookies.

  Abby quickly lost interest in the woman and ate two of the cookies.

  “ABBY!” I yelled.

  “ABBY!” my mom yelled louder.

  But Abby just looked at us and kept chomping away.

  FACT: To a dog, a delicious snack is worth a few humans yelling at you.

  As everyone gathered around to help the poor woman, I picked up her pocketbook and the other two cookies to give them back. But before I could, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  I looked up to see Isaac standing there. “Where did you get those?” he asked, pointing at the cookies.

  “They were the lady’s,” I explained. “Abby ate two already.”

  Isaac nodded slowly. “This explains everything.”

  I scratched my head. “Huh?”

  But Isaac wasn’t paying attention to me anymore. He marched over to the woman. “I have seen you at my cookie stand often, but you never buy anything. Meanwhile, I’ve noticed that my inventory has not been matching my income.” He pointed at her with one of his long fingers. “Have you been stealing my cookies?”

  The lady, who had been straightening out her clothes, looked completely offended. “Well, I never! First I am attacked by this dreadful animal, and now this!”

  “It seems quite clear to me,” Isaac said, “that you are a thief.”

  As everyone began murmuring about the possibility that there was a criminal in our midst, I quietly picked up Abby, who was still licking crumbs off her lips.