Sea Dog by Dayle Gaetz Page A

of seaweed. “It has an ear,” he said. “It looks like a dog.”
    â€œPoor dog,” Mom said. “It must have drowned in the storm last night.”
    Kyle pulled away more seaweed. He uncovered the dog’s face. “Its eyelid moved! It’s alive!”

Chapter Two
    They uncovered the rest of the dog. It lay still on its driftwood board.
    Mom put her hand on the dog’s chest. “It’s breathing!” she said.
    â€œWe need to take it home,” Kyle said. “How can we carry it?”
    Mom took off her rain slicker and covered the dog. “You stay here,” she said. “I have an idea.”
    Kyle sat on the wet sand beside the wet dog. He patted the dog’s head and scratched behind its ear. “Please live,” he whispered. “I promise to take good care of you.”
    Mom returned with the wheelbarrow. It was lined with towels and covered with a tarp. “Kyle,” she said, “you lift the dog’s head. I’ll lift its body. We’ll put it in the wheelbarrow.”
    The soggy dog lay limp in their arms. They laid it on the dry towels. They placed the tarp over top. Kyle put his stick and his bag in the wheelbarrow. He helped push the heavy wheelbarrow across the soft, wet sand.
    They carried the dripping dog into the house. They laid her beside the woodstove. Kyle got some fresh towels. He rubbed the dog all over. The dog coughed, and water trickled from her mouth. She shivered.
    â€œI’m going to phone the vet,” Mom said.
    Kyle sat close beside the dog. He stroked her head. “Please don’t die,” he whispered.
    Mom returned. “The vet said to warm some towels in the dryer,” she said. Kyle helped wrap warm towels around the cold dog.

    â€œShe said to put a hot water bottle near her chest,” Mom said. So that’s what they did.
    â€œYou stay with the dog. I’m going to heat some milk.”
    â€œDid the vet say that too?”
    Mom nodded.
    Mom brought warm milk in a bowl. She put it near the dog’s nose. The dog half opened her eyes. Her pink tongue hung out, but she didn’t drink.
    â€œI have an idea,” Kyle said. He went to the kitchen for the turkey baster. He dipped it into the warm milk. He pumped the bulb until milk rose into the tube. He dropped warm milk on the dog’s pink tongue. She licked.
    Kyle dropped more milk onto her tongue. She licked some more. Then she lifted her head and lapped up all the milk. Her head flopped back down. She curled up in her warm towels. She lay close to the warm woodstove. Soon she fell asleep.
    Kyle sat beside her and watched her breathe.
    â€œI think she’ll be all right,” Mom said. “Shall we give her a name?”
    Kyle nodded. “Let’s call her Treasure. She’s the best treasure we ever found.”
    All that rainy morning Kyle sat beside Treasure. At lunchtime Mom reheated the pancakes. They ate every bite. Treasure drank some more warm milk.
    After lunch Mom and Kyle went out. They needed to buy dog food and a dog dish. Treasure slept by the woodstove. When they came back, Treasure sat up and wagged her tail. “She’s happy to see us!” Kyle said.
    He put dog food into the shiny new dish. Treasure gobbled it up. Then she curled up and went back to sleep.
    â€œHow come she sleeps so much?” Kyle asked. “She might be sick or she might be very old,” Mom said. “Or she might just be tired.”
    â€œI think she’s tired,” Kyle said.
    Treasure slept all afternoon and all night long.

Chapter Three
    Early the next morning Kyle opened his eyes. Two brown eyes stared back at him. “Treasure!” he cried. “You’re better!”
    Treasure licked Kyle’s nose. Her tongue felt warm and sticky.
    Outside, sun sparkled on a rippled sea. “Let’s walk along the beach,” Kyle said after breakfast.
    Kyle took his walking stick from the