Read Movie for Dogs Page 7


  “Only if it comes with a straw,” Aunt Alice said through the hole in her mask.

  “I’m sure that can be arranged,” Mr. Donovan said. “In Hollywood all things are possible!” He turned to Mr. Merlin. “I think we should begin with Gabby, since he’s so eager to get started. Maynard, I’m going to want you to describe how you trained this extraordinary dog, and, of course, we’ll want him to demonstrate his abilities.” He turned to Kristy. “I’ll be asking you to explain what Lamb Chop does as a therapy dog, and perhaps you can persuade her to dance for us.”

  “Of course!” Kristy said. “Lamby loves to entertain people. I even brought along her hula skirt.”

  “As for you, Bruce,” Mr. Donovan said, “I’ll want you to describe the circumstances behind the story Bobby Strikes Back. Bobby’s beauty and vitality are truly electrifying. When I saw him come leaping out of the top of that storage shed, I was reminded of famous canine actors such as Rin Tin Tin and Strongheart and Lassie. Bobby has the makings of a star!”

  “Thank you, sir,” Bruce said.

  Once Mr. Donovan took Mr. Merlin and Gabby into the studio and Kristy was occupied dressing Lamb Chop in a grass skirt, Bruce slid over close to Aunt Alice and whispered, “What am I going to tell him? The rules of the contest say the video has to be based on our dog’s most dramatic moment, and it is — you can’t get much more dramatic than getting dognapped. But Andi did make some changes in details of what happened when she hoped her book would be published as a fictional novel.”

  “That does create a bit of a problem,” Aunt Alice agreed. “However, you can truthfully state that the dognappings occurred last summer and your dog was one of the victims. It might be prudent for Andi to participate in the interview, as she is more at ease with dissembling than you are.”

  “We can’t lie to Mr. Donovan!” Bruce protested.

  “My gracious, no!” Aunt Alice exclaimed. “I would never suggest that you lie. ‘Dissembling’ has a different meaning entirely. ‘Dissembling’ means shrouding negative aspects of a situation and accentuating positive aspects.”

  “Like with Gabby’s talking?” Andi asked, catching on immediately. “He leaves out the parts that don’t work, and that makes people pay more attention to the parts that do work.”

  “That’s an interesting analogy,” Aunt Alice said approvingly. “Andi, you definitely must be part of this interview.”

  Kristy’s cell phone began chiming.

  Setting Lamb Chop gently aside, she extracted the phone from her purse.

  “It’s him again, Andi!” she cried. “This time he’s sent me a text message!”

  She seemed to believe that Andi would really be interested.

  “How special!” Andi said sarcastically, but Kristy accepted the remark at face value and began to read the message aloud. “He says, ‘Hi, babe! My cousin, Jerry, says you’re hot stuff. Want to get together the next time I’m in Elmwood?’” She paused and then said with bewilderment, “I don’t know what Connor means. Why would Jerry tell him I’m ‘hot stuff’? I don’t even date yet.”

  “You can’t be text messaging Connor Gordon!” Bruce exclaimed. “Are you crazy? That guy’s a piece of crud!”

  “He looked very nice in the picture he sent,” Kristy said. “It isn’t kind to judge people by their reputations. Jerry told me that Connor has suffered a lot from people spreading false rumors about him because they’re jealous of his sports car.”

  “That’s not the reason!” Bruce turned to Aunt Alice. “You tell her about Connor! She’ll believe you!”

  “Kristy, dear,” Aunt Alice began, “I would hate to destroy your commendable faith in humanity, which is one of your most endearing qualities, but it just so happens —”

  She was interrupted by the reappearance of Mr. Donovan and Maynard Merlin. Gabby, who looked exhausted, leapt onto a chair and placed his paws over his eyes. He looked as if he were suffering from a terrible headache.

  “I hope he didn’t overextend himself,” Mr. Donovan said. “He was doing great until there at the end when I asked him to recite the Gettysburg Address.”

  “He’ll be fine as soon as he’s rested for a while,” Mr. Merlin assured him. “The problem with the Gettysburg Address is that it has so many ‘s’ sounds in it. When Gabby hits one of those, he has to find some other sound to substitute, and that creates a drain on his brain. It’s like the search-and-replace feature on a computer, except he must do it in his head.”

  “Well, he did very well,” Mr. Donovan said. “I was impressed. Your description of Gabby’s training program was mind-blowing. Seven o’clock in the morning until seven at night!”

  “If Gabby wants to succeed, he has to practice,” said Mr. Merlin. “I’m not exactly an ogre. I give him a lunch break.”

  “Even so, that’s a heavy schedule,” Mr. Donovan said. “Kristy, I see that you have Lamb Chop garbed in her hula skirt. Are the two of you ready for your interview?”

  “Absolutely,” Kristy said, stuffing her cell phone back into her purse. “Come on, Lamby! Let’s tell the world about therapy dogs!”

  Once Kristy and Lamb Chop had left the reception area, Mr. Merlin sat down on the sofa next to Aunt Alice. He reached over and covered her hand with his own.

  “How are you holding up, Alice?” he asked gently. “Is this excitement stressing you out?”

  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m not stressed out in the least,” Aunt Alice told him, sliding her hand out from under his. “I’m in excellent health and enjoying myself tremendously.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t looking well,” Mr. Merlin said hastily. “It’s just that I know it must be stressful to travel with grandchildren.”

  “Andi and Bruce are my great-niece and great-nephew,” Aunt Alice said. “I love them dearly, but they are not my grandchildren. My late husband and I were not fortunate enough to have children.”

  “So you’re all by yourself?” Mr. Merlin exclaimed with sympathy. “It’s the same with me. I have no one in my life except Gabby. We share a bachelor apartment, my dog and I, and the evenings are long and lonely.”

  “Is that why you taught Gabby to talk?” Andi asked him. “So you could have someone to chat with?”

  “Yes, but it’s not the same as a human companion,” Mr. Merlin said. He returned his attention to Aunt Alice. “What is your living situation, Alice? I assume you, too, have an apartment or perhaps a nice condo?”

  “I have a three-bedroom home with a rose garden,” Aunt Alice told him.

  “I’m sure that both are as lovely as their owner,” Mr. Merlin exclaimed with enthusiasm. “I have a suggestion to make, and I hope you’ll agree to it. Perhaps we could pick up some fast food for the children, and once they are safely stashed in their rooms watching television, you and I could enjoy a candlelight dinner in the rooftop-garden restaurant at our hotel.”

  “Mr. Merlin, I am flattered by your attention, but I must advise you that I have been spoken for,” Aunt Alice said.

  Mr. Merlin seemed stunned. “You’re telling me you’re engaged?”

  “A delightful gentleman asked me to marry him,” said Aunt Alice. “I don’t mean to imply that you are not also a delightful gentleman, but this other gentleman found me first, and finders — as they say — are keepers.”

  “Then that mask has some sort of religious significance?” Mr. Merlin asked, apparently reeling with shock from this sudden disclosure. “I’ve heard about cultures in which women, once they are betrothed, must keep their faces covered until after the marriage ceremony.”

  “Cultural customs are fascinating,” Aunt Alice agreed. She inserted the straw through the mask so she could suck her coffee, which put an end to further conversation.

  Mr. Donovan returned to the room with Kristy and Lamb Chop.

  “Bruce, it’s your turn!” he said. “It’s time for you and this beautiful setter to tell and show the world how Bobby struck back.”

  “I wa
s hoping that maybe my sister could come with me,” Bruce said. “She might think of things to tell you that I’ve forgotten.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Mr. Donovan assured him. “You and Bobby will do just fine on your own.”

  “Mr. Donovan, I’d like to suggest —” Aunt Alice broke in, but Kristy interrupted her.

  “That’s not fair, Mr. Donovan!” she burst out. “Andi wrote the script! There wouldn’t be any Bobby Strikes Back without Andi! It’s only right for you to interview Bruce and Andi both!”

  Andi turned to stare at her enemy in amazement.

  Maybe she’s not so bad after all, she thought reluctantly.

  MY ADVENTURES IN HOLLYWOOD — PART TWO

  By Andrea Walker

  Mr. Donovan’s studio was not what I’d always pictured when people said the word “Hollywood.” It was just a room with a chair and a couch and three cameras, one aimed at the chair and two at the couch. One man ran all the cameras.

  Mr. Donovan told Bruce and me to sit on the couch with Red between us. The cameraman attached little microphones to the front of our shirts. Then Mr. Donovan asked the cameraman, “Where’s the gate?” The cameraman said, “I think they’re still putting the latch on it.”

  He left the room and came back with a piece of plywood that had a fake gate in it. It was a facade.

  Mr. Donovan sat down in the chair and told the cameraman, “Roll ‘em.” Then he smiled at one of the cameras and said, “In the studio with us today are Bruce Walker, producer of Bobby Strikes Back; his sister, Andrea; and the heroic Bobby. Bruce, please share with our viewers the story of your brave dog” — he gestured at Red, who was staring straight into the camera lens just like Mr. Donovan — “this courageous animal who was dognapped by a deranged woman and held captive in a toolshed.”

  “Well,” Bruce began. I knew from the tone of his voice that he was going to say all the wrong things. “Bobby’s real name is Red Rover. The dognappers were two teenage boys, and they weren’t deranged, just evil. And the toolshed was really a chicken coop. But the rest of what you just said was right.”

  “Do you mean Mrs. Rinkle was not the dognapper?” Mr. Donovan asked him.

  At that point Bruce went blank. He had not been listening to Aunt Alice when she had dissembled to Mr. Merlin, so he’d missed out on a valuable demonstration.

  I knew it was my job to save him.

  “When I wrote the script, I had to make a few changes,” I said. “The real dognappers were juveniles, and I thought it might not be legal to expose them to the public. I didn’t want Star Burst Studios to be sued, so I combined them and made them Mrs. Rinkle.”

  “But the dogs in your video were playing their own parts, were they not?” Mr. Donovan asked.

  “Oh, yes,” I assured him. “Except for that beautiful dachshund, Bebe. She was an understudy, substituting for Bully Bernstein, who was having a birthday party. Bully’s the one who got dognapped, but it could just as well have been Bebe, because the Gordon boys were snatching every dog they could get their hands on.”

  “We would have liked to use a chicken coop,” Bruce said. “But we didn’t have the wire mesh, so we couldn’t build one. The toolshed was just a facade, like that one over there that your cameraman just brought in.”

  Mr. Donovan didn’t look as happy as he had in the beginning.

  “But in the real event,” he said, “Bobby — or Red Rover or whatever this dog’s name is — did release his captive companions, is that correct?”

  “Red saved himself and all the rest of the dogs,” I told him. That was not a lie at all, because the sound of Red barking was what had led us to the chicken coop.

  “And he does know how to open a latch?” Mr. Donovan asked me.

  “Oh, yes!” I assured him.

  Mr. Donovan turned to Bruce.

  “Is it all right with you if we put Red Rover to the test?”

  “Sure,” Bruce said. “Red will do almost anything I tell him to.”

  The cameraman hauled the facade to the front of the room so all the cameras could focus on it. Then Bruce told Red, “Open, sesame!” and Red raced over and opened the gate.

  Mr. Donovan had Bruce tell Red to do that three times so the cameraman could take pictures from lots of different angles. One of them was just a close-up picture of Red’s teeth when he pulled up the latch.

  Then we went back to the waiting room, where the secretary had brought in lunch. Aunt Alice couldn’t eat it because of her mask, and Gabby was too tired, but the rest of us gobbled it up. The desserts were cupcakes with dog faces.

  Just before we left to go back to our hotel, Mr. Donovan told us, “Our intention is to air all three videos on national television, along with the interviews I conducted with you today. Then we’ll have our viewers call a free eight-hundred number to vote for their favorite star dog. I think we have everything we need except for one release form.”

  “Oh, no!” Kristy said. “Don’t tell me I missed somebody!”

  “Not you,” Mr. Donovan said. “The form we’re missing is for Bobby Strikes Back. We need a release from the blond young man on the skateboard who appears in the background of all the scenes with Mrs. Rinkle in them. Bruce, please get that taken care of as soon as you get home. We can’t air a video unless we have releases from everyone.”

  The next morning, Mr. Merlin and Gabby were in the hotel lobby, checking out at the same time we were.

  Mr. Merlin gave Aunt Alice his business card. He told her he lives in Philadelphia, which isn’t terribly far from Elmwood, and if her “life plan changes,” he would like very much to get to know her better.

  Aunt Alice told him her life plan is set in concrete.

  While they were talking, I went over to say good-bye to Gabby. I whispered an important message in his ear.

  He looked at me with the saddest eyes in the world and licked my hand.

  The End

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When Jerry answered the door, Bruce got straight to the point.

  He said, “I’m here to ask you to sign a release form.”

  “A release form?” Jerry asked in surprise. Then a light of understanding broke over his face. “Oh, I get it! It’s those ownership papers my dad signed over to you. Did those require my signature? If so, then Red’s still legally mine!”

  “No way!” Bruce said. “Those papers were in your dad’s name, because he’s the one who bought Red in the first place. Red’s mine, free and clear. This is about the video I taped in our backyard. You’re in the background, cruising back and forth on your skateboard. I was so intent on the filming that I didn’t notice what was going on in the alley. Now I’ve got to get signed releases from everybody who appears in the film, whether they were supposed to be there or not. And that includes you.”

  “You mean you’ve sold that video!” Jerry exclaimed. “How much are you getting for it? If I sign a release, I’m going to want my share.”

  “We’re not getting paid,” Bruce said. “Since Andi didn’t win the contest with her book, I made this video as a way to help her get her story told. Give my sister a break! It’s no skin off your nose if Bobby Strikes Back is on television. This won’t interfere with the fame and money you’ll be getting from your book.”

  “There’s got to be a prize for winning that contest,” Jerry said. “If it isn’t money, what is it?”

  “The dog who stars in the winning video will be given a chance to audition for films,” Bruce said. “But we haven’t won the contest. All we’ve done is make it into the finals. Viewers will vote on the winner.”

  “I might consider signing that release,” Jerry said.

  “You will?” Bruce couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was it possible that Jerry’s success had made him less greedy?

  “I said I might,” Jerry said. “But I’m not going to do it for nothing. If you can’t afford to pay me, then maybe we can trade off services. You do a favor for me, and I do one for you.”


  “What do you mean?” Bruce asked suspiciously.

  “When I won the young author contest, I thought Pet Lovers Press would buy my story and publish it and that would be that,” Jerry said. “I never guessed they’d expect me to do more work on it. They sent my manuscript back, and the editor’s got it plastered with Post-it notes. She wants me to make all kinds of ridiculous changes. She says the wording is too old-fashioned, and there’s a train wreck where a dog gets killed, and that’s too traumatic for little kids. I didn’t even remember that scene was in the book.”

  “So what are you saying?” Bruce asked. “What kind of trade-off do you want?”

  “Your sister likes to do writing projects,” Jerry said. “How about she takes this manuscript and makes it like the editor wants it, and then I sign the release form?”

  “Don’t you want to do your own revisions?” Bruce asked him. He knew how possessive Andi was about Bobby Strikes Back. There was no way she ever would have allowed someone else to make changes.

  “I don’t have time for that sort of busy work,” Jerry said. “My publicist is lining up radio and TV interviews. He’s trying to get me on Oprah and Good Morning America, and even the Eileen Stanton Show. I’m going to be busy all summer promoting my book. It’s an even trade — Andi helps me, and I help her.”

  Bruce struggled to contain his fury. How could Jerry consider the few seconds it would take him to sign a release form comparable to the hours — or maybe even days or weeks — that it would take Andi to revise his manuscript? And to add insult to injury, it was the same manuscript that had kept her own book from being published!

  But this wasn’t his call to make.

  “Get me the manuscript,” he said. “I’ll take it to Andi, and she can read it and make her own decision.”

  “That’s cool,” Jerry said with a grin. “I’m sure she’ll say yes. What choice does she have? Wait here a minute and I’ll get it for you.”