A Coyote's in the House Part 7

"Hey, come on," Antwan said, 'cause he couldn't imagine it. "That little bit of a thing?"

"We came onto hunters spread across the hill. I told Lola to go on, run down to them. The minute she did I hear them yelling at each other, 'It's a wolf!' and now they're shooting at me. If I ran I'd have been in plain sight, so I got down behind some rocks. Now they had me pinned there and started up the hill to finish me off."

Antwan couldn't wait, he wanted to know right now, "How'd she save your life?"

"The little girl ran back to where I was, got up on the rocks and they had to stop shooting."

"She must've got over being snippy," Antwan said.

Buddy didn't like that. He told Antwan, "Don't ever let me hear you make fun of Lola. She risked her life to save me."

"Cool," Antwan said. "Then what happened?"

"The hunters came up holding their guns ready, like I might leap out at them. One of them looks at me and goes, 'That ain't a wolf, that's Buddy from the movies. See the red neckerchief?' "

"Good thing you still wear it. Then what happened?"

"I became a phony hero. I must've saved her from wolves because they had wolves on their minds. Doesn't matter there aren't any wolves around here. One of them said it might've been coyotes after her. I wanted to tell him, 'You're right, but I didn't save her.' We had a group picture taken, Lola and me in front of all these hunters with their guns. Lola stood up with her paws on me, licked my face and everybody laughed-like at the end of a Buddy movie, someone asks do I want to go home and I bark."

Antwan said, "They must've taken you to the house then so Lola's owner could thank you and give you a kiss."

"No kisses, but I got patted on the head some more and called fella. Some humans, that's all they can think to call you, fella. They like 'boy' a lot, too."

"The dad even called me 'fella,' " Antwan said. "Those people give you anything?"

"I told you, pats on the head."

"That's all you got in the kidnapping movie, after you rescue little Pedro."

"Because the whole point of the role I play," Buddy said, "I don't expect anything, virtue being its own reward."

"They say that in the movie?"

"My owner, the dad. Remember at the end how I'm getting all this attention and the reporters are talking to the dad? He says, 'Buddy didn't rescue little Pedro to get his picture in the paper. Buddy only did what he had to do.' "

"Yeah, well, it works okay in a movie," Antwan said, "but real life, man, that's different. I can imagine you thinking maybe a big steak, blood running out of it, wouldn't be too bad."

"It sends the wrong message," Buddy said. "The pat on the head and the tidbit shoved in your mouth is okay. It's what we're used to. I wasn't a hero this time anyway, with Lola. It was a setup and I'd just as soon forget the whole thing." He looked toward the house. "I might as well go inside and let the dad yell at me, get that over with."

"Wait," Antwan said, his ears standing up, hearing a voice from inside the house. "He's talking loud to somebody right now."

It wasn't a minute later the dog door pushed open and Antwan frowned saying, "Who's this?"

"Betty?" Buddy said, sounding like he wasn't sure. Then, "It is, it's Betty."

A Miss Betty that Antwan had never seen before. Her thick mane of creamy hair gone, her topknot gone, her puffs and pom-poms, Miss Betty shorn down to a short coat covering her, all of her show decorations gone, zipped off.

"You're a dog dog!" Antwan said to her.

Meaning it as a compliment, Miss Betty now looking like she was supposed to, what she was, was, instead of like a wedding cake with a black nose on it. instead of like a wedding cake with a black nose on it.

"You're a regular dog."

Miss Betty looked at him with a terribly sad expression and ran back in the house.

"I haven't seen her like that," Buddy said, "since she was a pup. Why don't you talk to her, tell her she looks great."

"I did," Antwan said.

"I know what you meant," Buddy said, "but she needs something more than just being called a dog. She likes you. See what you can do while I go in and get yelled at."

[image]iss Betty was sitting in her room by the window, looking out, staring like she was lost in thought, her back to her trophies, not even looking around when Antwan came in. in her room by the window, looking out, staring like she was lost in thought, her back to her trophies, not even looking around when Antwan came in.

He didn't bother with the door, he went over to her and said to the back of her head, "I have to ask you, don't you think you look fine with your new sleek and swift look?"

No answer-playing that game with him again.

He said, "Come over here with me." She didn't move. Antwan took her ear gently in his teeth and brought Miss Betty over to a pink oval mirror on a stand and placed her six feet away from it.

He said, "Look at yourself. Go on, do it." Antwan nipped the back of her head, raising it, and she stared at her glum expression in the mirror. "Okay, now say to the mirror, 'You looking at me?' I'm kidding. Say to the mirror, 'Girl, you look fine.' "

She hesitated. He nipped the back of her curly, crew-cut head, and she said, "I can't."

"Turn sideways. Go on, you got nothing to lose."

She did it, she turned.

"A little more . . . There. Now look over your shoulder at the mirror and say, 'Girl, you are a cool chick.' "

"I can't."

"c.o.c.k your hip a little bit. You know what I'm saying? You're cool and you know it . . . That's it. All right, now say the line."

"I can't."

"There's nothing to saying it. Look in the mirror and say it like being cool is no big deal."

"You are a cool chick," Miss Betty said.

"You sure? You don't sound it. And you forgot 'Girl.' "

"Girl, you are a cool chick."

"You're almost there. But now you have to slow it down. Know what I'm saying? Put some funk in it, drag it, like you're listening to hip-hop in your head and you're on the beat."

Miss Betty said, "Girl?" and paused. "You are a coool chick, you know it? Yeah, I know it."

"You got it nailed," Antwan said. "Tell yourself that every four hours and call me in the morning."

Miss Betty's gaze followed him out the door, before returning to the mirror.

[image]he next day the group photo of Buddy, Lola and the hunters appeared on page three of the the group photo of Buddy, Lola and the hunters appeared on page three of the Los Angeles Los Angeles Times.

The headline said: LIFE IMITATES ART. And below that: "Star of the Buddy Series Saves Champion Show Cat from Pack of Coyotes."

The dad read the entire story aloud, saying now and again, "Listen to this, fella." Buddy listened and walked away with his head hanging. The dad said, "What's the matter with our boy?"

Antwan wondered the same thing. He said to Buddy, "What's wrong with you, homes? Man, you're famous all over again. Have your picture in the paper-"

"Yeah," Buddy said, "for something I didn't do."

The German dog was as glum as Miss Betty when she first looked at herself in the mirror. Antwan shook his head, trying to understand these dogs becoming depressed. They had everything handed to them. They didn't have a worry in the world. What was the problem?

Maybe, Antwan thought, they tried too hard to act like humans. Another way to look at it: their heads were so turned around they had trouble seeing they were dogs.

[image]he day after the picture was in the paper, Buddy's agent stopped by with his shiny brown dachshund, here to take a meeting with the mom and dad. The maid brought refreshments to them on the patio. the picture was in the paper, Buddy's agent stopped by with his shiny brown dachshund, here to take a meeting with the mom and dad. The maid brought refreshments to them on the patio.

Antwan had never seen a Hollywood agent before, so he walked past to have a look at this short dude in the suit of clothes. The dude was busy talking, but stopped as he saw Antwan. The dad said, "That's our new dog, Timmy." The dude said, "Timmy? He looks a lot like a coyote. Has he ever been in pictures?"

Antwan caught the "Timmy" part but didn't understand any of the rest of it. He saw Miss Betty watching from her window. Today she seemed to be doing better, less glum, but said she had no reason to come down. Antwan took that to mean she was still self-conscious about her new hairdo.

Now he strolled across the yard to join Buddy and the agent's shiny brown lowrider dachshund named Swifty. As Antwan came up to them Swifty said, "You don't look like a Timmy to me. Bro, you look like some kind of wild thang."

"And you look like about twenty pounds of baloney," Antwan said. "How you doing?"

Buddy said, "That's enough. Let's go inside and have a treat." They pa.s.sed through the dog door and now they were standing around in the kitchen, Swifty's long skinny nose raised, sniffing.

He said, "I'll have a peanut b.u.t.ter cookie instead of the treat. I smell 'em close by."

Antwan said, "But out of your reach, Shorty. Cookies aren't good for you, they give you the gas."

Swifty turned to Buddy. "Where'd you get this mutt, off the street?"

"Be careful what you say to Timmy," Buddy said. "You don't want to upset him."

"I don't even know him," Swifty said. "We came here to talk about you."

"What's the deal?"

"A Harry Zimm picture."

"Bringing back the Buddy series?"

The hope in Buddy's eyes died as Swifty said, "Bro, that was ages ago. This one is based on a science fiction book. Harry hasn't read it yet, but there's a dog in it and he thought of you right away."

Antwan said, "When he saw Buddy's picture in the paper."

"You're not in this," Swifty said, "this is between Buddy and I," and turned to him again. "The only thing Harry's worried about is if you've put on weight."

"I'm the same as I was on the Buddy pictures. What's this one about, a maniac with a chain saw or a mutation, a giant c.o.c.kroach or something?"

"What difference does it make?" Swifty said. "There's a part in it for you."

"How much?"

"Scale. Only what he has to pay."

"Get another dog," Buddy said.

"Come on, you know Harry Zimm, he's a tightwad, he's still got his bar mitzvah money."

"I want what I got for the last Buddy picture."

"You won't get it."

"Wait a minute," Antwan said to Buddy. "This guy is your agent?"

"Well, my agent's dog, but he acts like an agent, he tells me what's going on."

Antwan said, "He works for you, homes. You don't work for him."

Buddy said, "I know that."

"The way it should be," Antwan said, "he gets you what you want or you get another agent."

Swifty, trying to stand up to Antwan looking down at him, said, "It doesn't work that way, especially not for dog parts. What you want to do, bro, is stay out of it."

Antwan put his nose down to the dog agent's nose and said, "Tell me where you live, my brother. I'll come over and we'll talk about it."

Swifty looked at Buddy. He said, "I don't need this. We get you the part and you don't take it, you'll never work in this town again," and went out through the dog door.

Antwan hopped up on the table, said to Buddy, "Just one," and gobbled up a few peanut b.u.t.ter cookies, ground them in his jaw and swallowed. He turned around once and sat down on the table before saying, "You let that little hot dog talk to you like that? I couldn't believe it."

"He heard that somewhere, about my never working in this town again? Swifty wants to sound like he's in the movie business, so he picks up lines like that to use. But I'll tell you something," Buddy said. "If ever a dog could work as a Hollywood agent-I mean a real dog-it would have to be Swifty. He's okay. You just have to get used to him."

"I didn't like his smell," Antwan said.

"He can't help that," Buddy said. "Swifty gets his smell from where he gets everything else, from his owner. It's how my real agent smells, so it's how Swifty smells."

Antwan helped himself to another cookie as he thought of something. "Is it true humans take on a different smell when they lie?"

"Yes, it's a fact," Buddy said. "They lie and you get a whiff of something rotten. Like you get when you stick your nose in a garbage can. You might've noticed I kept sniffing while I was talking to Swifty. It's a sure way to tell when he's lying."

"It wasn't a bad smell," Antwan said, "but it hung in the air till he left."

"There are things movie stars have to put up with," Buddy said. "Like agents."

Antwan nodded, accepting Buddy's wisdom, and said, "You think you'll do the movie?"