Buster, Caleb Huett [great novels .TXT] 📗

needed to break out the Big Three: mail, toilet, and chocolate. As you probably know, the Big Three are the easiest and most reliable way to prove to a human that there’s nothing to be worried about from us dogs. Just in case you didn’t learn it in puppy school, I’ll explain.

One: barking at the mail carrier. There’s no reason to bark at any mail worker once you know they’re perfectly nice people just doing their jobs, so it stands to reason that any dog barking at the mailman must not understand things like jobs or nice or mail. They must just be a dog, and not someone who won a prestigious award from the Dog community for their book of original poetry.

Two: drinking from the toilet. An act so utterly disgusting, so completely demeaning, that someone would only do this if they were absolutely desperate or didn’t understand what a toilet was. That’s another strong point toward “I’m a dog,” and a strong point away from “I have the equivalent of a human master’s degree in civil engineering.”

Three: eating chocolate. This one’s risky, but basically foolproof—if a human catches you eating this pure poison, not only will they think you have fewer than zero brain cells to rub together, they will also be so nervous about the possibility of throw-up on their rug or expensive trips to the vet that they’ll forget whatever else they’re worried about, like whether or not you’ve been doing research on radioactive isotopes in a secret lab under their backyard.

It seemed like I’d have a few days where Tonio and Mia would spend all their time practicing Beamblade. We wouldn’t be leaving the house much.

It was time to get into some trouble.

First on my list was mail. I’d never met the person who delivered mail to the Pulaskis’ house before, but to work myself up to a good bark, I imagined a monster: fifteen feet tall with bright red eyes from all the caffeine they had to drink to get up so early; huge, muscular arms and giant hands to throw heavy boxes from the road to the door; a bag full of paper cuts and a truck full of secrets. Even imagining them was making the fur on my neck stand on end.

I’m gonna beat this monster, I thought when I heard someone approaching the door. I’m gonna bark so loud they SCREAM. Or at least go away … FOR A WHILE!

Tonio frowned at me as the doorbell rang. “What’s wrong with you, Buster? Your hair’s all weird.” I didn’t answer because I had to stay in the zone. This package is going BACK TO SENDER!

“Uh, I’m going to open the door now, okay?” I’m gonna scare them so bad they become an emailman! Snail mail? More like WAIL MAIL, from all the screaming they’re gonna do!!!

Tonio opened the door, revealing a smiling woman standing next to a probably three-year-old boy, both in post office uniforms. “Ring, ring,” the little boy mumbled bashfully. “I’m deli—devi—”

“Delivering,” the mailwoman suggested.

“Deliderving the mail today with my mom, because I want to be the best mailman ever when I grow up. Here is all of your letters!” He held a few pieces of junk mail out carefully, like they were precious and delicate.

This was the monster? I was supposed to bark at this? The boy was smaller than I was, and his mom was obviously very busy. Yelling at them could hurt his feelings and ruin their whole day! What if I scared this kid so bad he gave up on his dream of being the best mailman ever??

It didn’t matter. This was for Tonio. I couldn’t take care of him if I was stuck on The Farm, and so he had to believe I was an animal. A Good Dog wouldn’t know the difference between a monster mailman and an extremely cute, so sweet, aww, look, he said thank you and shook Tonio’s hand, and he gave me a treat, what a good boy, goodbye! Have a great day! You’re ALREADY the best mailman ev—

They were in their truck and driving away before I realized the door was shut and I’d missed my chance. Tonio scratched me behind the ears and headed back upstairs to draw while I laid down, pitifully, in front of the door.

So much for step one, I thought. But all was not lost! I still had two more chances.

“Blademasters—that’s us,” Tonio read from a starter guide Mr. Pulaski had given them, “lead their Heroes to battle on the Aethernet. Using a combination of hero, tech, and spell cards, each Blademaster seeks to drain all the other players’ Spirit Batteries.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “The lore of this game is all over the place. Plasmogast the Devourer’s card says he eats Spirit Batteries to survive, and so he’s a bad guy.” She spun around in Tonio’s desk chair. “Does that mean every Blademaster is a bad guy?”

Tonio shook his head. “Plasmogast eats the whole battery. Blademasters just take the energy, and they can be recharged later.”

“Of course. Obviously.” She opened one of the deck boxes and dumped cards out on the desk in a big pile. “When do I get to make my deck?”

“Well, first you have to know what kind of deck you want to make.”

“Whichever one is the strongest!”

“It doesn’t really work like that.” But I saw Tonio smile and make a note in his sketchbook—probably fire element deck? He was happy for the chance to really help someone.

Mia groaned and gestured for him to keep reading the guide.

Next up, I had to drink from the toilet. Obviously, water from a toilet isn’t exactly healthy, but it’s mostly survivable. The hard part of this one was definitely to get caught drinking—Tonio’s bathroom was down the hall from his room, closer to his parents’ room, and when he was working at his drawing table, he sometimes wouldn’t