got so much to live up to as it is.”
“So we’d even drive to Alberta to get a perfect one.”
“How can you tell if it’s the perfect dog before you know him?” asked Ked.
“Ked’s so smart,” said Evie to me.
“He hit the nail on the head. He’s got us there, Evie,” said Bert. “You can’t.”
“You can’t tell at all,” said Evie. “Not really.”
“But you can guess,” said Bert. “We’d be guessing, really.”
“We just feel, you know, compelled to do our best,” said Evie. “To find perfect candidates and then visit them. I think I could tell if I picked one up.”
“You could tell with Quincehead, Evie.”
“Because he snuggled into me. First time I picked him up.”
“He snuggled.”
“Not that the perfect one might snuggle next time.”
“Not that there will ever
be
a perfect dog again. But we owe it to the new dog to get one nearly perfect.”
“Because of Quincehead.”
“And his perfection. Now, what are you kids doing in town?”
“We were going to get my uncle’s signature on this petition to save Mendolay Mountain,” I said.
“We’re going to the council meeting after supper. That’s on the agenda. We’ll see you then. Are you going inside with Primrose?” Bert asked Ked.
“Because I thought we’d have an early supper,” said Evie. “So we have time to digest before the meeting. I’m making Tater Tot casserole.”
“I’ll go back with you,” said Ked, and he took both book bags from Bert, who looked frankly relieved. Bert was pretty short and I imagine it took more muscle than it would a taller person to keep the bags from dragging on the ground.
“Does Tater Tot casserole have mini marshmallows in it?” Ked asked, rather nervously, I thought.
“It does if you want it to!” said Evie.
“Wait a second,” I said to Evie. “Can you just stay here one second so I can get your recipe for Tater Tot casserole?I’ve got my notebook. I’m collecting recipes for the cookbook Ked and I are writing.”
So Evie stayed behind and I took down the recipe and Ked and Bert trotted home with the books.
After I had finished writing, I said, “Would you adopt Ked permanently if he wanted it?”
“Of course, Primrose. But you know, honey, that that isn’t going to happen. He has a home. This is just temporary.”
“But don’t you think he would be happier if he could just be in one place?”
Evie thought a second. “I’m trying to remember what the social worker said. She said he was actually anxious to get back to his own home.”
“But what kind of home can it be if he’s hardly ever there?” I asked.
Evie put her hand on my wrist. “Well, you know we’ve talked about these things before. Some of these kids are ashamed of their families. The social worker said Ked didn’t want anyone to know about his family but she’d tell me anyhow if it would be a help to us and I said to her, ‘Dearie, I don’t need to know nothing he doesn’t want me to know.’ And maybe the way I think of it would help you, too, Primrose. I think of it as having this moment in time with him and doing anything I can. Maybe we’re just like a vacation spot in the schedule of his life—like a little spa trip. Someplace he can be warm and dry and fed. And maybe part of that for him is being someplace whereeveryone doesn’t know where he came from. Like we’re a little vacation from shame. Anyhow, honey, I gotta go make dinner. I’m glad you’re getting on so well with Ked. He needs a friend, that’s for sure.”
But that didn’t even begin to cover my feelings about it. I wanted to keep him
safe
.
She moved on and I crossed the street and went into Uncle Jack’s restaurant.
There were plastic sheets hanging all over the place and plaster falling everywhere and things didn’t look any further along than they had the last time I’d been there. Uncle Jack was in the back, covered in white plaster dust and looking distracted and furious. I held the
“So we’d even drive to Alberta to get a perfect one.”
“How can you tell if it’s the perfect dog before you know him?” asked Ked.
“Ked’s so smart,” said Evie to me.
“He hit the nail on the head. He’s got us there, Evie,” said Bert. “You can’t.”
“You can’t tell at all,” said Evie. “Not really.”
“But you can guess,” said Bert. “We’d be guessing, really.”
“We just feel, you know, compelled to do our best,” said Evie. “To find perfect candidates and then visit them. I think I could tell if I picked one up.”
“You could tell with Quincehead, Evie.”
“Because he snuggled into me. First time I picked him up.”
“He snuggled.”
“Not that the perfect one might snuggle next time.”
“Not that there will ever
be
a perfect dog again. But we owe it to the new dog to get one nearly perfect.”
“Because of Quincehead.”
“And his perfection. Now, what are you kids doing in town?”
“We were going to get my uncle’s signature on this petition to save Mendolay Mountain,” I said.
“We’re going to the council meeting after supper. That’s on the agenda. We’ll see you then. Are you going inside with Primrose?” Bert asked Ked.
“Because I thought we’d have an early supper,” said Evie. “So we have time to digest before the meeting. I’m making Tater Tot casserole.”
“I’ll go back with you,” said Ked, and he took both book bags from Bert, who looked frankly relieved. Bert was pretty short and I imagine it took more muscle than it would a taller person to keep the bags from dragging on the ground.
“Does Tater Tot casserole have mini marshmallows in it?” Ked asked, rather nervously, I thought.
“It does if you want it to!” said Evie.
“Wait a second,” I said to Evie. “Can you just stay here one second so I can get your recipe for Tater Tot casserole?I’ve got my notebook. I’m collecting recipes for the cookbook Ked and I are writing.”
So Evie stayed behind and I took down the recipe and Ked and Bert trotted home with the books.
After I had finished writing, I said, “Would you adopt Ked permanently if he wanted it?”
“Of course, Primrose. But you know, honey, that that isn’t going to happen. He has a home. This is just temporary.”
“But don’t you think he would be happier if he could just be in one place?”
Evie thought a second. “I’m trying to remember what the social worker said. She said he was actually anxious to get back to his own home.”
“But what kind of home can it be if he’s hardly ever there?” I asked.
Evie put her hand on my wrist. “Well, you know we’ve talked about these things before. Some of these kids are ashamed of their families. The social worker said Ked didn’t want anyone to know about his family but she’d tell me anyhow if it would be a help to us and I said to her, ‘Dearie, I don’t need to know nothing he doesn’t want me to know.’ And maybe the way I think of it would help you, too, Primrose. I think of it as having this moment in time with him and doing anything I can. Maybe we’re just like a vacation spot in the schedule of his life—like a little spa trip. Someplace he can be warm and dry and fed. And maybe part of that for him is being someplace whereeveryone doesn’t know where he came from. Like we’re a little vacation from shame. Anyhow, honey, I gotta go make dinner. I’m glad you’re getting on so well with Ked. He needs a friend, that’s for sure.”
But that didn’t even begin to cover my feelings about it. I wanted to keep him
safe
.
She moved on and I crossed the street and went into Uncle Jack’s restaurant.
There were plastic sheets hanging all over the place and plaster falling everywhere and things didn’t look any further along than they had the last time I’d been there. Uncle Jack was in the back, covered in white plaster dust and looking distracted and furious. I held the
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