Beemer Rings the Bell
Written by Allyn M. Stotz
Illustrated by Jack Foster
“No, Daddy. Please don’t take Beemer back to the pound, I love her!” I cried.
“I know, Jason, but she’s destroying the house,” Daddy said.
When I promised my parents I’d take care of our new puppy, I didn’t know it would be this hard.
I grabbed Beemer and ran to my room. “Beemer, please try harder to go potty outside.”
“Oh,” I looked down. My shirt was soaked. “Bad puppy!”
Beemer ran out. I chased her… into the kitchen and through the dining room.
Under the table and around the chairs. Back thru the kitchen and straight to the den.
I finally caught her and put her outside. I pointed to the grass. “Go potty!”
I knew I had to do something… and fast. Daddy was running out of patience.
We went to my room to take a nap.
Beemer lay on the floor by my bed looking sad. I felt bad so I played with her using one of my old socks. I dangled it in front of her. She loved swatting it with her paw and playing tug of war.
That’s when I got an idea. I ran to the back door. Beemer followed.
I hung the sock from the doorknob. It wasn’t long enough, so I ran and got another one so I could tie them together.
“Get the sock, Beemer,” I said.
She didn’t understand and tilted her head.
I grabbed her paw and raised it to touch the sock. “See, you can learn that. Then I’ll know you have to potty.”
But then I realized I needed something that made noise. We needed to be able to hear it from everywhere.
I searched my room.
Maybe a car would work. No, it doesn’t go vroom by itself.
Maybe my Wolverine Battle Claw would work. No, she’d ruin the claws.
Maybe a dinosaur would work. No, that’s my favorite. I need it.
I looked around and spotted my old red bell. “That’s perfect!”
Once again, I ran to the back door.
I tied one end of the socks around the bell handle and tied the other end around the doorknob.
It was the perfect length for Beemer’s paw to reach.
For a gazillion hours, we practiced ringing the bell. Each time we rang it, I put her outside.
That night while we watched TV, we heard… DING!
DING… DING... DING.
Mom asked, “What’s that ringing?”
“It’s Beemer! She’s ringing the bell!” I cheered.
We ran to go see. Beemer was standing right by the back door.
“You did it, Beemer! Now you can stay here forever.” I hugged Beemer and put her outside.
Afterwards, Dad helped me attach the bell to twine, instead of the socks, so it would work better.
Now, Beemer rings the bell whenever she wants to go outside. But, sometimes she rings it just for fun!
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