Read an Excerpt
READ THE FULL EXCERPT
With his long, wet tongue, Oliver licked and licked Bertie’s cheek. “Wake up,” his tongue said. “It’s time to get up!”
But Bertie would not wake up. Her eyelids did not flutter. She did not groan and swat her hand at him. She did not say, “Oh, Oliver, you pesky dog.” She lay still beneath her quilt of many colors, and Oliver waited.
All night long, he had chased things in his dreams. Cats and trolley cars, snowflakes and tin cans. He had snored and snuffled, and his back legs ran and ran. Now he was hungry and