Dog Gone! Read online

  OTHER CHAPTER BOOKS BY MARY AMATO

  GOOD CROOKS BOOK ONE

  Missing Monkey!

  THE RIOT BROTHERS

  Snarf Attack, Underfoodle, and the Secret of Life:

  The Riot Brothers Tell All

  Drooling and Dangerous:

  The Riot Brothers Return!

  Stinky and Successful:

  The Riot Brothers Never Stop!

  Take the Mummy and Run:

  The Riot Brothers Are on a Roll!

  EGMONT

  we bring stories to life

  First published by Egmont USA, 2014

  443 Park Avenue South, Suite 806

  New York, NY 10016

  Text copyright © Mary Amato, 2014

  Illustrations copyright © Ward Jenkins, 2014

  All rights reserved

  www.egmontusa.com

  www.maryamato.com

  www.wardjenkins.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the printed edition as follows:

  Amato, Mary.

  Dog gone! / by Mary Amato; illustrated by Ward Jenkins.

  pages cm. – (Good crooks; book 2)

  Summary: When their thieving parents steal a rich and famous dog, twins Jillian and Billy, who have grown tired of being crooks, must find a way to get Poochie Smoochie back to her owner. Includes activities. ISBN 978-1-60684-397-0 (hardcover) – ISBN 978-1-60684-510-3 (digest pbk.) [1. Conduct of life–Fiction. 2. Robbers and outlaws–Fiction. 3. Brothers and sisters–Fiction. 4. Twins–Fiction. 5. Family life–Fiction.]

  I. Jenkins, Ward, illustrator. II. Title.

  PZ7.A49165Dog 2014

  [Fic]–dc23 2013018297

  ISBN 978-1-60684-404-5 (eBook)

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  1 The Whopper

  2 Bake and Burp

  3 Hip to the Hop

  4 Punked

  5 Oodles of Poodles

  6 Diary of a Wimpy Dog

  7 Poochie Smoochie

  8 What’s Worse than Worst?

  9 Midnight Madness

  10 Choo Choo Uh-Oh

  11 It’s a Bird. It’s a Plane. It’s a Burger?

  12 Tip Tip Squish

  Secret Extras

  The Whopper

  I woke up early because two birds flew in my window and tap-danced on my head. Just kidding.

  I woke up early because a squirrel slid down our chimney and ate my pillow. Just kidding again.

  I woke up early because a rhino rang our doorbell and asked if he could use our bathroom. Just kidding even more.

  You want to know the truth? I don’t know why I woke up early. I just opened my eyes and wiggled my toes. Then I snuggled back under my covers.

  It was a school day. Mom and Dad would want me and my sister, Jillian, to sleep late, eat junk food, and then go out and steal stuff. In other words, they would want us to be crooks like them. That’s the Crook way.

  If you read my first book, you’ve already met the Crook family. If not, let me explain. My parents, Ron and Tanya Crook, are famous crooks. They want me and Jillian to follow in their footsteps.

  Mom and Dad like to start the day by closing their eyes and imagining which store to rob. So I closed my eyes and imagined breaking into the grocery store and stealing all the bacon.

  Then I imagined the owners coming in to work and seeing that they’d been robbed. They started to cry big, fat tears. I got all choked up. See, here’s my big secret: I don’t want to rob anybody. I’m a nice guy.

  That’s a big problem! My parents would be mad if they found out that their little boy was turning out to be nice.

  There was only one person I could talk to: my twin sister, Jillian. We both have big feet, big ears, freckles, and a crazy desire to do good deeds.

  I hopped out of bed and tiptoed down to the kitchen. Tip. Tip. Tip.

  I peeked in. Jillian was working on her computer. She always wakes up early.

  I pulled up a chair. “Jillian, I … I … I want to—” I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I only knew what I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to rob anybody.

  She looked at me.

  “Jillian, I … I … I want to—”

  She moved back. “Billy, are you going to barf on me?”

  “No. I’m not sick,” I whispered. “I want to do a good deed today, but I don’t know what to do.”

  Her eyes grew big. “I have an idea,” she whispered. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Look at this flyer! It came in the mail yesterday, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

  “See?” Jillian whispered. “The dog shelter doesn’t have enough money for food or medicine.”

  I looked at the picture of the cute dog. “We should help,” I said.

  “Shhh,” Jillian said. “We can’t let Mom and Dad hear us talking like this!”

  I thought about those cute dogs, and my heart started to go all gooey in the center. I imagined Jillian and me rolling into the Lucky Dog Shelter with food and toys and medicine. The dogs would be so happy. I imagined the whole celebration:

  Huskies high-fiving!

  Dalmations dancing!

  Chihuahuas cheering!

  Basset hounds bunny-hopping!

  A warm, happy feeling filled me. Oh, the joy of helping others!

  I turned to Jillian. “We’re insane. This is so not the Crook way.”

  “We’re not insane. We’re just different from Mom and Dad,” Jillian whispered. “Let’s donate a whole pile of money.” She leaned in. “Let’s go honest. Let’s earn it.”

  A totally mad crazy idea.

  “I’m in,” I said.

  “Let’s have a bake sale,” Jillian said. “We could make cupcakes and sell them in the park.”

  I started jumping up and down. Cupcakes do that to me.

  Jillian grinned. “Okay, get dressed first so we’re ready to go. Then meet me back here in the kitchen.”

  We tiptoed up to our bedrooms. If you’re a Crook, you can never leave the house without a disguise. So I put on my stockings, my wig, my best dress, and my glasses.

  My Mrs. Whiffbacon disguise.

  Who wouldn’t buy cupcakes from a nice old lady?

  I looked in the mirror. Hmm. Mrs. Whiffbacon needed something fresh.

  A fake foam rear end, of course!

  Everyone should have fake rear ends. I have five.

  The Gumball.

  The Board.

  The Beanbag.

  The Square

  The Whopper.

  Mrs. Whiffbacon deserves the very biggest, so I put on the Whopper and covered it with my best dress. Then I looked in the mirror and gave my rear end a shake. It would be very embarrassing to go out without a proper-looking rear end.

  “Yo, Whiffbacon, how’s it shaking today?” I asked myself.

  I looked shocked and said in my old lady voice: “Young man! Please call me Mrs. Whiffbacon!”

  Mrs. Whiffbacon is a pain in the rear sometimes.

  I grabbed my purse and ran downstairs as fast as my big bottom would allow.

  Bake and Burp

  Mrs. Sippy was waiting in the kitchen.

  Who is Mrs. Sippy? My sister’s favorite disguise!

  “Fancy meeting you here, Mrs. Sippy,” I said in my old lady voice. “Your hair is looking especially gray today.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Whiffbacon,” my sister said in
her old lady voice. “Your rear end is looking especially big today.”

  “It’s a big bottom, but it’s a happy bottom!” I said.

  “Let’s get to work,” she said, pulling some eggs out of the fridge. “We need to make a bunch of cupcakes to sell.”

  “What are we going to tell Mom and Dad?” I whispered.

  “Ron and Tanya Crook always sleep late. We can be done and back before they even wake up,” she said.

  I put on an apron and started cracking eggs into a bowl.

  “Billy, wait!” Jillian opened up her laptop. “Let’s find a recipe.”

  “I don’t need no stinking recipe,” I said.

  Jillian used a recipe. I used my brain. That’s how I roll.

  Jillian put cherries and coconut in hers. What did I put in mine? Toothpaste and dead ants. Just kidding. Chalk and chili peppers. Just kidding. Oatmeal and bacon. Not kidding. Seriously. Dude, everything tastes better with bacon.

  We mixed and whipped and poured and put those babies in the oven.

  “While we’re waiting for the cupcakes to bake,” Jillian said, “let’s make some signs.” She got paper and markers.

  Here’s how her sign turned out:

  Here’s how mine turned out:

  Ding! Finally, the cupcakes were done!

  Here’s how hers turned out:

  Here’s how mine turned out:

  You can’t be good at everything.

  I got two sodas out of the fridge and handed her one. “Hey, Jillian, let’s each drink a soda and have a burping contest.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I want to be better than you at something!” I said.

  I downed my soda. She downed hers.

  “Let the burping begin!” I said.

  Here’s how hers turned out:

  Here’s how mine turned out:

  “Booyah!” I said to Jillian. “Call me Burper King. Home of the Whopper!” I gave my booyah bootie a shake.

  Hip to the Hop

  Mrs. Sippy and I set our cupcakes and signs on a picnic table in the park. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. People were jogging, pushing strollers, and walking along the path.

  “Cupcakes! Won’t you please buy our cupcakes?” Jillian called out in her old lady voice. “Cupcakes for a good cause!”

  “Your old lady voice is too soft,” I said. “We need some major boom. Some snap, crackle, and pop to get this party started.”

  I grabbed two sticks, gave them to Jillian, and told her to drum a boom-boom beat on the table.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Jillian,” I said, “just go with the flow. Ride with the tide. Move with the groove. Float with the boat. Run with the fun. Dance with the chance. Pound with the sound. Hop with the pop.”

  “But I’m not a go-with-the-flow kind of person,” she said.

  I sighed. Sometimes you’ve got to do it all yourself. I started beat boxing, going, “Boom. Boom. Boom diddy boom.”

  That beat went straight to my feet, and I started hip-hopping with my big bottom. Old ladies hip-hopping with big bottoms make people stop and notice.

  Within minutes, we had a crowd. Jillian finally got the idea and pounded out a beat on the table.

  Boom. Boom. Boom diddy boom.

  My flow was coming on. I got my old lady voice going, and I started to rap:

  “One for the money,

  two for the show,

  three for the doggies,

  and here we go.

  I’m gonna get in your grill

  till you spill some bills

  ’cause the doggy shelter

  needs food and pills.

  Get your cup! Get your cake!

  Eat it up! You can make

  a mutt ruff with this stuff.

  One buck’s not enough.

  Be a friend—that’s waz up.

  Show some love to a pup!”

  The crowd went wild.

  “Go, Grandma! I’ll take a cupcake!” a woman called out.

  “Me, too!” a man said. “I’ll add an extra donation.”

  “I’ll take six!” another woman said.

  Jillian and I grinned.

  Oooh, it felt good to be doing a good deed.

  Indeed.

  I kept my boom-boom going. We sold all of Jillian’s cupcakes and got tons of extra donations.

  “If you had used a recipe,” Jillian said, “we could have sold yours, too.”

  I was starting to feel a little sad when a guy walked up with his dog on a leash. The dog lunged straight for my so-called cupcakes.

  “No, Maxer!” the guy called, pulling on the dog’s leash.

  “It’s the bacon,” I said. “Everything is better with bacon.” I threw the dog one of my treats, and he gobbled it right up.

  That gave me a great idea.

  I took the sticks and got a beat going.

  I held up one of my ugly cupcakes and started to rap:

  “One for the money,

  two for the show,

  three for the doggies,

  and here we go.

  See these yucky yucks?

  Look like they’re made of muck,

  hard as hockey pucks?

  Well, it’s your lucky day

  ’cause I’m here to say

  that they’re not your eats.

  They’re doggy treats!

  So buy a li’l chow-chow

  for your li’l bowwow.

  We’ll donate all the dough

  to the shelter now.”

  Mrs. Sippy’s bootie wasn’t as big as mine, but she got it shaking, too. And the crowd loved it.

  “I’ll buy some dog biscuits!” a guy said.

  “Me, too!” someone else said.

  We sold all but two of my yucky-cakes. I put the leftovers in my dress pocket, and Jillian put all the money into her purse. Then we did a li’l hip-hop to celebrate:

  “We be makin’ bacon,

  showin’ love to the pups.

  Gonna give up the money,

  say ruff ruff ruff.”

  Punked

  “We did a good job, Billy!” Jillian said as we walked to the shelter. “This money will buy a lot of food and medicine for the dogs.”

  “And we earned it, dude!” I said. “Let’s go get a bacon burger!” I started doing my dance moves down the street.

  “I feel good, too,” Jillian said. “But let’s get this money to the shelter right now.” She started speed-walking. The shelter was about six blocks away, on a quiet street.

  When we were almost at the shelter, I saw two guys getting out of a parked car. “Oops. Slow down and look old, Mrs. Sippy,” I said.

  When you’re excited, it’s hard to remember that you’re eighty years old.

  The two men strolled toward us. As we passed, I said, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  One man smiled and said, “Yes.”

  The other one grabbed Jillian’s purse! They were muggers!

  “Hey!” Jillian cried.

  The crook started to run down an alley. I ran after him and tripped. Yep. Shouldn’t have worn my heels.

  “That’s our money!” I cried. “Give it back.”

  The man stopped, turned around, and took off his beard and hat. It was Tanya Crook, aka Mom.

  Dad was right behind us. He laughed and pulled off his mustache and glasses. “You guys just got punked!”

  “Mom! Dad!” Jillian said. “What are you doing here?”

  “We were driving around, looking for the next store to rob, when we saw you two,” Mom said. “We decided to see if you were on your toes. You know there are crooks in this world.”

  “Yeah, and you guys just got hit.” Dad opened Jillian’s purse. “Wow! That’s a lot of cash! What were you guys doing?”

  Jillian and I looked at each other.

  “Uh-uh-umm,” I stammered.

  Mom took the purse and pulled out the Lucky Dog Shelter flyer.

  “Were you going to b
uy a dog?” Dad asked.

  “I’ve always wanted a dog,” I said. It was true.

  “A Crook would never buy a dog, Billy,” Mom said.

  “Yeah,” Dad said. “If you want a dog, steal it.”

  Mom tore up the flyer. “And don’t steal a mutt from a shelter. Steal a really high-class dog.”

  “Yeah,” Dad said. “Steal the best. Come on. We’ll give you a ride home and help you come up with a plan.”

  Mom put her beard back on. Dad put his mustache back on. The four of us walked back to the car.

  I thought about all those poor hungry dogs at the shelter.

  No high-fiving huskies.

  No dancing Dalmations.

  No cheering Chihuahuas.

  No bunny-hopping basset hounds.

  I looked at Jillian. She looked sad, too. I felt like crying. My stomach growled. Sad, and hungry, too. Dude. It was not my day. What I’d give for a bacon burg—

  Wait a minute. I pulled a doggy treat out of my pocket and sniffed it.

  Yum. Bacon.

  Jillian looked at me. “You’re not going to eat that, are you?”

  I took a nibble. It tasted like … rotten tree bark.

  “Bad, huh?” Jillian asked.

  I smiled and popped the whole thing in my mouth anyway. That’s how I roll.

  Oodles of Poodles

  “By the way,” Mom said from the front seat. “We stopped at Beggin’ fer Burgers. Here.” She handed a bag to us in the backseat. Bacon cheeseburgers!

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked.

  I ate two. I wanted to eat another, but I was too full. So I put it in my pocket for later.

  “I have an idea, Tanya,” Dad said as he was driving us home. “Let’s steal a dog from the Poodle Palace.”