The Good, the Bad & the Beagle by Catherine Lloyd Burns Page A

Sarah-Lisa said. “Wake up on the wrong side of the morning much?” She grabbed Athena and they walked away.
    It was true! Sarah-Lisa acted like she owned Athena. If only Veronica and Athena could go trick-or-treating without Sarah-Lisa. If only there was a way to kick Sarah-Lisa off the A Team.
    Veronica heard the squashy sound of rubber soles and knew it was Melody. Her feet always announced her entrance. It was kind of theatrical. Veronica liked it.
    “Veronica?” Melody said in her unique melodious manner, turning everything into a question.
    “Hi, Melody.”
    “I checked with my mother, because she is very allergic to animal dander. I think I mentioned that? But she didn’t think it would be a problem if I went trick-or-treating with you, as long as I showered afterward. Did you ask your parents?”
    Two weeks ago, Melody had asked Veronica if they could trick-or-treat together, but she’d also made it clear that she had rehearsals and that her parents didn’t believe in Halloween and that they were allergic to dogs and there were so many other complications that Veronica assumed it wasn’t going to happen. But now, it was happening. And she was already going trick-or-treating with the A Team.
    “Well, no. I didn’t know you definitely wanted to go with me,” Veronica said, squeezing the button with all her might. She had barely figured out her costume and now she had to decide who to wear it with. She wished she could go trick-or-treating with just Athena. And if Melody came, that would be okay. That would solve everything. Sarah-Lisa was, as usual, the problem.

 
    The Fourth Veil
    Veronica and Mary had great success the first day fitting the dogs in their costumes. The second day was a different story. Fitzy’s passion for chewing ruined three veils before Mary and Veronica invented a system. Veronica held Fitzy’s nose in the crook of her elbow while Mary attached the veil. But Veronica was nervous that on Halloween, when Fitzy was not muzzled by human hands, she would eat through her veil. Veronica tried not to think about that. Or about Fitzy biting other trick-or-treaters. Or Cadbury eating too much candy. Or who she was going to say no to: Melody or the A Team.
    Veronica was gluing little lapels to the black T-shirt she’d found. The next step was sewing the gold buttons in a neat line down the front. Cadbury lay on the floor, panting like the whole experience was too much for him.
    “I think he’s really getting into the part, poor baby,” Mary said. “You know? Maybe the whole idea of being with only one dog for the rest of his life is a little too much. A little too overwhelming. Maybe he wants to stay a bachelor.” Mary had never married. Cadbury coughed. “See?” Mary said. “He is allergic to the idea of marriage. Like a lot of men, come to think of it. Now, tell me your pickle.”
    “It’s bad. I said yes to too many people,” Veronica said.
    “The more yesses the better, no?” Mary asked through a mouthful of pins.
    “Oh, Mary.” Veronica sighed. “I can’t explain. I just can’t.”
    “Two words. Open windows. Open windows.”
    “Mary, can I say something?”
    “Yes, my baby.”
    “That’s four words.”

 
    The French Philosopher
    Veronica’s parents passed the Chinese food containers around at dinner. No one had bothered transferring the food into serving dishes.
    “Who do you guys think I should go trick-or-treating with?” Veronica asked them point-blank.
    “Well, which party did you get invited to first?” Mr. Morgan said. He unrolled a pancake and filled it with moo shu pork.
    “I didn’t get invited to any parties, Daddy.” Veronica fumed. Was her father not listening? Or was he really unable to follow even the simplest idea?
    “You know what he means,” her mother said. “Who invited you trick-or-treating first?”
    “I don’t know. Not technically.”
    “Technically? It is a pretty simple question,” her mother said, glancing at her father.