The Pug Who Always Finished Second (Chapter Seven)

Trinket's Journal

February 25, 2006

And so, after I learned about the dog Rascal I began my training with the thought that I couldn't be stopped. Weeks of training, and I felt as strong as ever. I couldn't be stopped. And it was time to see how Bucky could fare. He had his first practice today, and I stopped in to watch. His sprints were going well, but he didn't seem to be getting much better than before. He came over to see me once he had a break. "You know, Trinket, this could be the last year that I could do this. I'm starting to lose my grip."

"Not much coming from the dog that they call the pug that always finished second," I quipped.

"Hush, the book hasn't come out yet. I still need to polish it off."

"The author could always change the ending."

This aggravated him, I could see it in his face. He was trying to think of a way to get me back for that one. Then, he had a way.

"I spoke to Dad today." I felt a swooping sensation in my stomach.

"Let's just say I know about your tug-of-war idea. I will bet a million bucks you won't win."

"And if I do?"

"You won't."

Mom came over to us. "Bucky, you wanna get back to practice?" He shot me a final dark look, and loped off. Dad came over to me. 
"Why Dad? Why? Why? Did you have to spill it to the whole world?" I yelped. "I thought this was important? I thought I could trust you!" I spat out, then quickly regretted as the sudden motion sent me flying into the closest wall.
"Relax, Trinket, he knows nothing."
"He knows everything!"
"He doesn't know you'll be competing."
I checked my ears. No marbles. More confused than ever, I asked, "Say what?"
"I told him you would be managing, not competing. He knows nothing, remember?" With that, he left me with my thoughts and a pug running down cookies.