The Last Dog on Earth by Daniel Ehrenhaft Read Free Book Online Page A

interrupted. His hopes rose.
    “That's right,” Ms. Dougherty said. The smile returned, a shade wider and more sugary than before. “And that's the problem, sweetheart. She's a
wild animal.
Ed's the third person she's bitten since she was brought in. I wouldn't recommend her as a pet.”
    “Can't I take a look at her?”
    Ms. Dougherty hesitated. “Well, I—I guess it wouldn't do any harm to take a look,” she mumbled with an awkward, squeaky little laugh. “Why not? Come this way.”
    She turned and walked toward the double doors. Her shoes clattered on the tile floor. Logan and his mother followed her into what looked like a big hospital emergency room. It was sterile and white, lined with shelves full of pill bottles. There was an electronic scale, an IV unit, and other sorts of medical machinery. It smelled sort of like a dentist's office.
    In the center of the room was a metal table. A skinny reddish dog lay on it, flanked by two guys. They were wearing white lab coats, but they clearly weren't vets—they looked like teenagers. One of them held a hypodermic syringe in his hand. It was empty, as if he'd just injected whatever it held into the dog.
    Logan stepped forward and peered at the dog.
    She looked half dead. She was almost as big as Otis—but much, much thinner. Her coat was filthy and matted. Logan could see the outline of her ribs. Her tongue lolled from her mouth. Her eyes were wide and glassy. One of her legs was bleeding.
    “Here she is,” Ms. Dougherty said.
    Logan glanced back at her.
And?
He was waiting for Ms. Dougherty to walk up to the dog and start talking to her:
“Hel-looo, li'l ba-beee, yesh, yesh.”
But Ms. Dougherty stuck close to the door and didn't say another word.
    “Her rabies test came back,” the guy with the syringe said. “It was negative.”
    A look of relief flashed across Ms. Dougherty's face. “Let Ed and the others know immediately.”
    Still, she didn't go up and start cooing over the dog.
    “How old is she?” Logan asked.
    “About ten months,” the other guy said. “She may not look so good, but she's actually pretty healthy. More than you can say for a lot of the strays we've found recently. There's a disease going around, you know. But this one doesn't have it.”
    “So how long will it be before she can go home with someone?” Logan asked. He couldn't take his eyes off the dog. She was just so …
ugly.
So not Otis.
    “I really don't know about this, Logan,” Mom whispered.
    All of a sudden, the dog started to squirm. The two guys grabbed her. She ran in place, almost like a cartoon animal—her paws scratching the slick surface of the metal with a sputtering
click-click-click.
She barked at Logan.
    “This one just doesn't go under,” the guy with the syringe said. “We gave her enough tranquilizer for—”
    The dog barked again, this time so loudly that Logan flinched. She wouldn't stop wriggling. A moment later, she twisted free of the guys and jumped off the table, scrambling straight for Logan.
    His body tensed. But the dog stopped in front of him and gazed at him. Her eyes never wavered for an instant. They were locked on Logan. She wasn't wagging her tail or panting in his face, the way Otis always did. She was just standing there.
    Slowly, her paws slid out from under her, until she was splayed on the concrete floor. And still she stared up at Logan. She almost looked as if she were trying to tell him something.
Please get me out of here. Please. I can't stand another second with Ms. Dougherty.
    Cautiously, he bent down and touched the dog's head. She looked at him for a moment longer. Then she closed her eyes.
    The guys in the white coats exchanged puzzled glances.
    “What's the matter?” Mom asked.
    “Well, actually, I was worried she was going to bite the kid,” the guy with the syringe said. “She's never let anyone touch her without a fight.” He shook his head. “It must be the tranquilizer.”
    “Maybe she likes me,” Logan