FOR THE LOVE OF PEEWEE (Word Count 1159) (standard:adventure, 1161 words)
Author: Rosie Jay	Added: Oct 13 2006	Views/Reads: 3158/2113	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
While at the family vacation cottage, young Michael yearns to keep a lovable stray dog, owning it eventually only to lose it suddenly to its rightful owner. A "boy and his dog" story with a joyful ending.

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Michael turned quickly, stunned to see an old man, just standing there. 
He had very kind eyes, but what did that matter?  Peewee had an owner 
and would never ever be his now.  “He’s been our guest for a few days, 
but we’ve had no success in finding his owner,” he heard Dad say. 

“Iverson’s the name, Bill Iverson,” the old man explained, “and the
little rascal dug a hole under the fence.  I surely hope he wasn’t too 
much of a nuisance.”  He then called Peewee by another name.  “Oh, 
Fritz, you must learn to be a good boy!” 

“His name’s not Fritz, it’s Peewee,” Michael barely whispered releasing
the brand new leash.  He ran back to the car, so utterly disappointed 
he didn’t feel Mom’s or Joanie’s hug, or notice that Dad was still 
talking with Peewee’s real owner, that Mr. Iverson. 

Oh, the pain of it!  In an instant, it seemed, Peewee was now gone!  As
they drove away, Michael watched him grow smaller in the rear window.  
Not until Dad reached the on-ramp to the big highway did he turn 
forward, his eyes brimming with tears. 

His disappointment seemed too much to bear as he again pulled away from
Joanie’s hug.  All he wanted was to be left completely alone.  Whatever 
could anyone say anyway?  Would it bring Peewee back?  Mom, Dad and 
Joanie understood, now allowing him room to deal with the heartbreak he 
was feeling inside. 

The ride home usually took no more than ninety minutes or so, but, oh,
it seemed so much longer.  Finally, when they arrived, Michael helped 
to carry in the luggage.  Then, still unable to speak, he went straight 
up to his room.  The house felt so very lonely—just like he did.  Alone 
with his thoughts, he remained that way, until he heard Dad calling. 

“Michael, please, come downstairs.  Mr. Iverson, the man at the gas
pump, would like to speak with you.” 

About what? Michael wondered.  Since he could never have Peewee, what
would that Mr. Iverson want to talk about?  Still, he pulled himself 
together and walked bravely down the stairs, getting ready for yet 
another big ache in his heart. 

“Michael?” said Mr. Iverson over the phone. 

“Uh...yes sir? 

“I could see how much you loved...Peewee is it?  Well, I’d like to tell
you that it’s perfectly okay.  Peewee is now yours.” 

At first it didn’t sink in, then, finally, Michael understood.  “Wow, do
you mean it?” I can have Peewee after all?” he asked, giddy with joy. 

“Absolutely.” Mr. Iverson replied.  “Now, may I speak with your Dad once
again?” 

Michael just couldn’t sit still!  He danced around the room until Dad
hung up, ready to explain the happy turn of events. 

“I couldn’t say anything at the time, Michael, because Mr. Iverson
wanted to talk it over with his wife.  It turns out that Peewee is one 
of a litter that they’ve been trying to find good homes for.  And 
wasn’t that lucky for us?  Being in the right place at the right time?  
So, at the gas pump, we exchanged phone numbers, and Mr. Iverson said 
he’d let me know—one way or another.” 

“And you couldn’t say anything because you didn’t want me to be
disappointed all over again, right, Dad?” 

Dad just looked at him for a moment.  “You’re a very smart young fellow,
Michael.”  Then, regretfully he added, “But it’s too late now to drive 
back, so we’ll have to pick up Peewee next weekend, understood?” 

Of course, he understood—well, almost.  Anyway, what was one short week
when Peewee would truly be his forever now? 

Oh, the joy of it, and this time, when Joanie reached out to hug him,
Michael hugged her back. 


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