Читать книгу Zoopy The Jack Russell Pet Detective - Robert Villalobos - Страница 7

CHAPTER 3

It was the end of the summer, and fall was setting in on the ranch. In Texas that meant it was mid-November, and in two weeks the weather would turn freezing cold.

Zoopy was standing on a small hill overlooking a herd of cows. She had grown into the most beautiful Jack Russell terrier that any of the humans had ever seen. Her cotton-white fur glistened in the sunshine as though she were a giant hundredwatt light bulb plugged into an electric socket; her brown pinto marks seemed as though they were alive as the gold-colored glitter sparkled within her patches. As she gazed upon the grasslands with her bright blue eyes, it seemed as though Zoopy was meant to be Zeus’s royal pet in Greek mythology. She was hypnotic, aristocratic, and amazing to look at.

Zoopy was happy; she was remembering her sister Kuki and her two brothers Guido and Fetzer, the names Tom’s brother had given them when he adopted and took them from the ranch a year or so ago. She smiled as she recalled the playful times they had on the ranch together—chasing the chickens and bothering the herds and swimming in the fishponds. She recalled all the fun shared when they were just puppies. She missed them very much.

Zoopy came back from her daydream as the herd started to make their way back toward the water bin, and she was happy to accompany them as always, before the end of the day set in.

Olaf the basset hound was an old dog that lived half a mile down the road from Zoopy. They were neighbors, and they were good friends.

Olaf’s face was grey, his eyes were droopy, and his ears were big and floppy. Because he looked so goofy and was so old, most of the animals thought Olaf was a dumb and slow-minded dog, but because Zoopy was so smart, she knew it was wrong to judge anyone by their looks. In fact, she was smart enough to know that an older dog must have had many more experiences in his life than she had in hers, making Olaf not only a dog with a fountain of new and exciting information, but also made Olaf a wise dog. For that reason, Zoopy respected and valued Olaf’s friendship that much more.

Olaf’s owner was Big Jack McKlowsky, a name even Zoopy had a hard time saying. Zoopy had noticed that when Big Jack went to the local grocery, a man called Leroy Johnson, who was his friend, would always call him “Cracker,” so from that point on, it was easier for Zoopy and all the animals to refer to Olaf’s owner as “Big Cracker Jack.” Cracker Jack was kind and loving to Olaf. They shared many good times together on the front porch, as they both enjoyed watching the daily sunsets and sharing all kinds of yummy treats together. They often ate cupcakes, all sorts of nonchocolate candy bars, and many kinds of sweets. Over the years and after many pounds of treats, it seemed Olaf had developed a huge sweet tooth, just like his owner Cracker Jack.

Olaf’s visits to the ranch were uncommon, so when he showed up by the barn looking for Zoopy, it truly was an unusual day. Olaf was sad, and it looked as though he had been crying a lot. Poor Olaf, Zoopy thought. She had never seen anything like it. Zoopy ran to find out exactly what was going on with her dear friend. After saying their hellos, they found themselves looking for a private space to talk. They sidled toward the barn where they could lie down on some soft hay and relax. Olaf proceeded to tell Zoopy the most intriguing story she had ever heard in her life.

For the last year, Olaf had been enjoying himself more than any other time before. He was getting older, and Olaf understood how meaningful and special each day was for him. He thought of the quality time he had shared with his beloved Cracker Jack on the porch, and just as important, how much he loved and enjoyed spending time with the most special object that Cracker Jack had ever given him, Olaf’s rare and special bone.

Olaf explained to Zoopy that just that morning, as he woke up and went to his secret hiding place—the super-secret hiding place where he always hid his rare and precious bone—Olaf discovered it was missing. Maybe I misplaced it, he thought. But after looking for his special bone all morning long, Olaf had finally concluded that his most wonderful thing in the whole world had been stolen by somebody or something who in fact was not its rightful owner.

Zoopy sat silently as her Jack Russell self was jumping all around inside; it was so difficult to stay still, but she tried hard to contain herself in front of her old friend. She felt anxious. The exceptional curiosity rushed through her body, trying to figure out exactly what had happened to Olaf’s special bone.

On that very day, at that very instant, Zoopy knew why she was born. She understood immediately and without a doubt what the universe was telling her to do and what her ultimate destiny was. Zoopy knew she was meant to be a detective. She knew she was meant to be…a pet detective. Zoopy was ecstatic and quick to tell Olaf that she would gladly help him find his bone; it’s my very first case, she thought.