Buster by Caleb Huett (ebook reader library txt) 📕

Title Page

Dedication

Prodogue

Chapter 1: Buster’s Testimony

A Classic Lassie

Chapter 2: Buster’s Testimony

Chapter 3

Frisbee!

Chapter 4: Buster’s Testimony

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chasing Details

Chapter 9: Buster’s Testimony

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

No Place for Bad Dogs

Chapter 16: Buster’s Testimony

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

The End

Reunion

Tonio’s Choice

Family Dinner

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Copyright

You never know how many bones you’ve buried until somebody digs them up. Buster tried to shake the old saying from his head, but it was stuck like peanut butter on the tip of his nose. You have to focus, he reminded himself.

“Everything is going to be fine!” Lasagna Morris, a golden-brown corgi with a clip-on tie attached to his collar, nudged the latch on his briefcase to gently click it into place. He patted the top with his paw in an attempt to look confident, but Buster could tell he was nervous. “I’m the best Dog Court lawyer in South Carolina!”

Buster checked himself in the mirror. It made him look like a furry red balloon, puffed up and huge, so he tried the next mirror. That one made him look like a pile of sticks, and not even the sturdy kind. Why did we have to get ready in the fun house? he thought. Out loud, he observed, “They said you were the only lawyer in South Carolina.”

“That’s, well … true. So I’m right for sure.” Lasagna gave a short yip, a gentle one, to get Buster’s full attention. His eyes were serious, and his ears were swiveled in a position that meant he was being sincere. “The most important thing is that I’m on your side. You’re a Good Dog, Buster, no matter what the Court says.”

“Thank you.” Buster bowed his head. “That means a l—”

A grinning clown face built into the wall laughed through a crackly speaker, causing Lasagna to leap stiff-legged into the air and bark wildly. After he landed, he tucked his tail in embarrassment. “Remember: Don’t lie. Judges can always tell, so there’s no use. They’re specially trained.” Lasagna lifted a paw and checked his watch. “The trial starts soon. Are you ready?”

Lasagna’s words had helped. The little voice in Buster’s head—the one that was still saying, You messed up, you broke Dog Law and deserve to be punished—quieted down. He hadn’t buried any bones. And Tonio needed him.

Dog Court could dig all they wanted.

“I’m ready.”

Juicy Fun Theme Park and Strawberry Orchard had been abandoned for years, really abandoned, like whoever-owned-it-disappeared-from-the-country-without-telling-anyone-so-nobody-could-do-anything-to-it abandoned. No humans other than teenagers had bothered to go inside for years.

“All rise for the honorable Judge Sweetie!” the Dog Court bailiffs, four pugs wearing pointy blue hats, howled in unison. “Now sit. Sit. Come on. Sit. Good.”

Some dog had reconnected the power, but most of the rides in Juicy Fun were too broken-down to use. Dog Court was held in the bumper car arena: Busted old cars teetered atop one another in a pile the judge was climbing with graceful leaps. Colorful lights flashed and spun in patterns over everything.

The judge slammed her squeaky rubber gavel down three times, and all barking, yipping, and yelping settled. Terriers and retrievers, boxers and schnauzers, greyhounds and huskies all squeezed into the seats of discarded bumper cars—so many that larger dogs were graciously lying down to allow smaller ones to sit on their backs. Dead silence fell on the courtroom, and everyone was staring at Buster, who shared the only spotlight that wasn’t spinning.

The light made Buster feel small, but somehow made the judge—a serious-looking borzoi with a coat as black and white as her sense of justice—seem impossibly huge and intimidating. He remembered a trick someone had told Tonio for dealing with nerves: Imagine everyone in their underwear.

He tried thinking of the judge in big human boxers. That might be funny, but she was so confident and poised he was certain she could pull it off with style.

Maybe the trick didn’t really work with dogs.

“Do you understand, Buster?” Oh no. The judge had been talking the whole time he’d been totally distracted thinking about underwear.

“Buster? Are we boring you? Too famous for us?”

“No, I—” He froze. He definitely could not tell her what he was thinking about. The judge’s ears rotated and folded, just slightly, to show she was irritated.

“Your Honor.” Another spotlight clicked on, over a husky with perfectly groomed fur and a twist to his tail that meant he was expressing humor. “Buster clearly doesn’t grasp how serious this situation is, considering this is his second time on trial for the baddest crime a dog can commit: revealing his true intelligence to a human.” The husky shrugged and looked directly at Buster with a sneer. “Perhaps, for him, this is just another day at the park.”

A cry rang out from the crowd. “THROW HIM IN THE BONE PIT!”

“The bone pit is for celebrations, Sadie,” someone else whispered.

“THROW HIM IN THE REGULAR PIT!”

The judge banged her gavel, and its squeaks quieted the crowd again.

“Your Honor,” Lasagna said, “the speaker for Dog Law hasn’t even introduced himself, and he’s already trying to build a case against Buster.”

The judge turned her head toward the husky. He rolled his shoulders and stood, tail wagging rhythmically like a clock pendulum.

“My name is Pronto, Your Honor, and as the little lawyer says, I’m here on behalf of the Law.” He bowed toward the tower of bumper cars. “While you, of course, have final ruling over this dog’s fate, I believe the law here is clear: Buster Pulaski showed a human the truth, putting all of us in danger. I am officially requesting that you send him to The Farm.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd, and a chill raised Buster’s fur. “Your Honor.” He awkwardly mimicked Pronto’s bow, just in case. “I never meant to put Dogkind in danger. I made a