Love That Dog Read online

  was bubbling

  and all of the thoughts

  in my head

  were buzzing

  and

  I wanted to keep

  Mr. Walter Dean Myers

  at our school

  forever.

  JUNE 6

  Dear Mr. Walter Dean Myers,

  Thank you

  a hundred million times

  for

  leaving your work

  and your family

  and your things-people-have-to-do

  to come and visit us

  in our school

  in our class.

  We hope you liked your visit.

  We think maybe you did

  because

  you were

  smile-smile-smiling

  all over the place.

  And when you read

  your poems

  you had the

  best best BEST

  voice

  low and deep and friendly and warm

  like it was reaching out and

  wrapping us all up

  in a big squeeze

  and when you laughed

  you had the

  best best BEST

  laugh I’ve ever heard in my life

  like it was coming from way down deep

  and bubbling up and

  rolling and tumbling

  out into the air.

  We hope we didn’t ask you

  too many questions

  but we thank you

  for answering every which one

  and especially for saying

  that you would be

  flattered

  if someone used

  some of your words

  and especially if they

  added a note that

  they were

  inspired by

  Walter Dean Myers.

  And it was nice of you

  to read all of our poems

  on the bulletin board

  and I hope it didn’t

  make you

  too sad

  when you read the one

  about my dog Sky

  getting smooshed in the road.

  And I think you liked

  the brownies, too,

  right?

  Thank you for

  coming to see us

  Mr. Walter Dean Myers.

  Inside this envelope

  is a poem

  using some of your words.

  I wrote it.

  It was

  inspired by

  you

  Mr. Walter Dean Myers.

  From your number one fan,

  Jack

  LOVE THAT DOG

  (INSPIRED BY WALTER DEAN MYERS)

  BY JACK

  Love that dog,

  like a bird loves to fly

  I said I love that dog

  like a bird loves to fly

  Love to call him in the morning

  love to call him

  “Hey there, Sky!”

  Excerpt from Hate That Cat

  Read an excerpt

  from Sharon Creech’s

  new novel

  HATE

  THAT

  CAT

  JACK

  ROOM 204—MISS STRETCHBERRY

  SEPTEMBER 12

  I hate that cat

  like a dog hates a rat

  I said I hate that cat

  like a dog hates a rat

  Hate to see it in the morning

  hate to see that

  F A T black cat.

  SEPTEMBER 13

  Sorry

  I didn’t know

  you liked cats.

  Didn’t know

  you have one.

  SEPTEMBER 14

  More poetry?

  You probably think

  we will remember

  what we learned

  last year, right?

  What if we don’t remember?

  What if our brains shrunk?

  What if it’s too hard?

  But I am glad

  you are my teacher

  again.

  I hope you will

  keep moving up

  a grade

  every year

  along with me.

  You understand

  my

  brain.

  SEPTEMBER 19

  No, I can’t write any more

  about my dog Sky.

  Maybe all of the words

  about Sky

  flew out of my head

  last year.

  I think about him

  all the time

  and I see him

  in my mind

  and some of his yellow fur

  is still on my yellow chair

  and sometimes I think

  I hear him

  uh-rum, uh-rum

  that sound he made

  when he was happy.

  But no, I can’t write about Sky

  a-n-y-m-o-r-e.

  Maybe I could write about

  a cat

  a mean cat

  a crazy mean fat black cat.

  Although . . . my uncle Bill

  who is a teacher

  in a college

  said those words I wrote

  about Sky

  were NOT poems.

  He said they were just

  words

  coming

  out

  of

  my

  head

  and that a poem has to rhyme

  and have regular meter

  and SYMBOLS and METAPHORS

  and onomoto-something and

  alliter-something.

  And I wanted

  to

  punch

  him.

  SEPTEMBER 21

  Another thing Uncle Bill said

  was that my lines should be

  l - o - n - g - e - r

  like in real writing

  But here is what happens when I try to make them longer the page is too wide and the words get all mumble jumbled and it makes my eyes hurt all that white space the edge of the page so far away and in order to get all the words down that are coming out of my head I have to forget the commas and periods or I have to go back and stick, them in, all over, the place, like this, which looks, if you ask me, stupid, but if you write short lines, a person knows where to breathe, short or long, and I hate to read, those long lines, and I don’t want, to write them, either.

  SEPTEMBER 26

  I wish you would tell

  my uncle Bill

  all those things you said today

  about our own rhythms

  and our own IMAGES

  bouncing around in our words

  and making them POEMS.

  And yes I understand

  that if I am ever the

  President of the United States

  I might be expected to write

  very very long lines

  but in the meantime

  I can make my lines

  short

  short

  short

  if I want to.

  But even if you told

  my uncle Bill

  all that stuff

  he wouldn’t believe you.

  He likes to argue.

  My mother likes my

  short

  lines.

  She runs her fingers

  down them

  and then

  taps

  her lips

  once, twice.

  And I think I understood

  what you said about

  onomoto-something

  and alliter-something

  not HAVING to be

  in a poem

  and how sometimes

  they ENRICH a poem

  but sometimes

  they can also make a poem

  sound purple.

  Purple!

  Ha ha ha. />
  OCTOBER 3

  Okay, okay, okay

  I will learn how to spell

  ALLITERATION

  and

  ONOMATOPOEIA

  (right?)

  and I will practice them

  just in case I ever

  need them

  to ENRICH

  something.

  Ready?

  Um.

  Um.

  I can’t do it.

  Brain frozen.

  First you need to have

  something to write about.

  You can’t just

  alliterate

  and

  onomatopoeiate

  all over the place

  can you?

  About the Author

  Photo credit Lyle Rigg

  SHARON CREECH is the author of the Newbery Medal winner WALK TWO MOONS and the Newbery Honor Book THE WANDERER. Her other work includes the novels THE GREAT UNEXPECTED, THE UNFINISHED ANGEL, HATE THAT CAT, THE CASTLE CORONA, REPLAY, HEARTBEAT, GRANNY TORRELLI MAKES SOUP, RUBY HOLLER, LOVE THAT DOG, BLOOMABILITY, ABSOLUTELY NORMAL CHAOS, CHASING REDBIRD, and PLEASING THE GHOST, as well as three picture books: A FINE, FINE SCHOOL; FISHING IN THE AIR; and WHO’S THAT BABY? Ms. Creech and her husband live in Maine. You can visit her online at www.sharoncreech.com.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

  Books by Sharon Creech

  WALK TWO MOONS

  ABSOLUTELY NORMAL CHAOS

  PLEASING THE GHOST

  CHASING REDBIRD

  BLOOMABILITY

  THE WANDERER

  FISHING IN THE AIR

  LOVE THAT DOG

  A FINE, FINE SCHOOL

  RUBY HOLLER

  GRANNY TORRELLI MAKES SOUP

  HEARTBEAT

  WHO’S THAT BABY?

  REPLAY

  THE CASTLE CORONA

  THE UNFINISHED ANGEL

  Credits

  Cover art © 2001 by William Steig

  Cover design by Alicia Mikles

  Copyright

  Love That Dog

  Copyright © 2001 by Sharon Creech

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  www.harpercollinschildrens.com

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Creech, Sharon.

  Love that dog / by Sharon Creech

  p. cm.

  Summary: A young student, who comes to love poetry through a personal understanding of what different famous poems mean to him, surprises himself by writing his own inspired poem.

  ISBN 0-06-029287-3 — ISBN 0-06-029289-X (lib. bdg.)

  ISBN 0-06-440959-7 (pbk.)

  EPUB Edition © November 2014 ISBN 9780061961335

  [1. Poetry—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.C8615 Lo 2001

  00-054233

  [Fic]—dc21

  CIP

  AC

  * * *

  Revised Harper edition, 2008

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