I wish, oh how I wish I had my own dog. unAny kind of dog would be okay. I even know what I’d name him–Beaujangles after the man in one of the songs Pop is always playing on his old stereo. I love that song. The old man is lonely and his best friend is his dog. He and the dog dance around a lot. I could play my harmonica and Beaujangles and I could dance around and around the apartment for hours while Pop is at work.

 

I really try to be as good as I can be so Pop might get it into his mind to reward me, but sometimes it’s so hard. I can’t help it if I always seem to knock things over. It’s kinda like my feet just have a mind of their own. Like today at soccer. I didn’t mean to trip that kid on the other team, but somehow my feet got right in the middle of his and down he went. I sure hope he’s okay. He was pretty nice about the whole thing. Didn’t get mad at me or nothin. Almost like he was a friend. That would be cool if he was my friend.

 

I get lonely just living with my dad in this darn apartment. Everything is so different now. New town. New School. No house. Dumb apartment. And no friends. I know I try to be nice, but like today when I kicked the ball in the wrong direction, everybody started screaming at me like I had just lost the game all by myself! Gee, I didn’t mean to. I just got all exited and mixed up. That dog who was with the man watching the game kept barking. It was like he was cheering me on and I wanted to run over and talk to him. Dad never comes to the games and I never have anyone who cheers for me. I know he has to work so he can pay all the bills, but why can’t I have a dog? Someone to root for me.

 

Mom would have let me. I know she would have. She always loved animals. Almost as much as me. I loved it when we’d all go to the zoo and I’d pretend I was Dr.. Doolittle and Mom and Dad were my assistants. I’d talk to all the different animals and then tell Mom and Dad what they said. They’d laugh and take pretend notes about what medicines I prescribed for the animals.

 

But it hurts to think too much about those times. Mom left and I can’t change that. Even if I keep my room clean and stop dancing all the time. That’s why I need a dog, man. I need a friend.

 

So I guess I need a plan to convince Pop. He’s not gonna fall for the friend routine. He’d tell me to get a real human friend. If he only knew how tough that can be. I never have anyone to talk to. Nobody is ever here. I’d talk to just about anybody. Even a burglar would be okay! Hey, wait a minute. I got it! I’ll convince him we need a dog for protection. Somehow I gotta make Pop think it’s unsafe around here and a dog is the only way to go. Now, what’s my plan? I better put on some thinkin and dancin music and come up with brilliantest scheme I’ve ever schemed before!

 

Last Means You’re Best