Chapter One

It is a truth everyone knows that all dogs need a forever home, and for Penelope the pug, this was no different.
 
Penelope was a stray in Puggleton Park, you see, although it was not always this way. She had a collar, and a name tag, which meant she had an owner. But for the life of her, Penelope could not find the Lady to whom she belonged.
 
If you have ever been to Puggleton Park, then you know it's a lovely place right in the center of London. There are acres of grass to picnic upon, beds of bluebells to sniff, and a bubbling brook from which to drink. If you stand in just the right spot, you can even catch a glimpse of Buckingham Palace looking ever so much like a tall, frosted wedding cake.
 
Everyone in the city loved to visit Puggleton Park--especially Penelope. A kindly pup just shy of eleven months old, she was fond of gnawing bones, playing fetch, and eating dog biscuits. She was also well known for kissing humans she especially liked, and her manner was gentle, although she was rather untrained. This was not Penelope's fault, of course, but the fault of her Lady's--a caring woman who simply could not help spoiling her dog.
 
On the day Penelope got lost, she and her Lady had been having a most splendid time. They played fetch near a grove of old oak trees, picked bluebells from the field, cooled their feet in the bubbling brook, and finally found the perfect spot for a well-deserved picnic.
 
While her dear Lady ate raspberry tarts, which were her favorite, Penelope lay at her feet, chewing the dog biscuit she always got as a special treat. Feeling satisfied, Penelope gazed at two nearby fox terriers who were rolling over one another in a pretend battle that was growing most energetic indeed.
 
"Come play with us!" one of the terriers said during a brief pause in the match.
 
"No, thank you," Penelope said, rolling over with a yawn. The sun was warming her belly, you see, and it made her drowsy. Besides, I prefer the company of my Lady to any other, Penelope thought, just as her owner reached over to give her a scratch and a pat. There is no reason to move.
 
Suddenly, something caught her eye.
 
Oh, but it was the most dreadful squirrel.
 
I should say now that Penelope did not care for squirrels in general, but this one was more dreadful than most, with his ratty tail, shifty eyes, and huge buckteeth. She watched in dismay as he darted up to her Lady's picnic basket, plucked up a raspberry tart, and ran.
 
But this simply would not do! So, like any good pug defending her Lady's property, Penelope barked, "Stop, thief!" and raced after her prey.
 
And what a race it was!
 
Penelope chased Dreadful Squirrel past the playing puppies, through the field of bluebells, and over the bubbling brook. They raced past the old oak trees and dashed across a green meadow, zigzagging this way and that. She almost caught him near Swan Pond, his tail a mere acorn's length away from her snapping jaws, but at the last moment, Dreadful Squirrel darted up a tree with a taunting "Pleased to make your acquaintance!" And just like that, he--and the raspberry tart--were gone.
 
Oh, but Penelope was furious, for she truly hated to lose. However, she was also wise enough to know when it was time to accept defeat and go back the way she came.
 
She looked to the right and saw nothing but trees. She looked to the left and saw nothing but grass. That was when she realized she was lost. Not a little bit lost, mind you, a lot bit lost.
 
A cloud passed over the sun, and suddenly the park loomed large and threatening. Fear began to pump in Penelope's veins, and worry struck her brain like lightning. There was a loud clap of thunder overhead, and she did a most unfortunate thing: She started to run blindly forward in the first direction her little legs could take her!
 
She ran, and she ran, and she ran. The question, of course, is whether Penelope was running toward her Lady, but I'm afraid she was not.
 
You must get a hold of yourself, Penelope! she thought as she stopped to catch her breath. After a few moments, she was calm, and put her nose to the ground to try to find a way back. But to her dismay, her trail went thisaway then thataway, then every which way.
 
As the skies darkened, Penelope's friend Moon rose high in the sky. Tired and hungry, she realized she would not find her Lady that night. There is nothing worse than to want something so desperately, she thought, only to find one has not the energy to seek it.
 
She spied a nearby park bench and decided it would have to serve as her shelter for the night. So she curled up, feeling lonely, vexed, terrified--and very hungry indeed!
 
Penelope's last thought as she drifted off to sleep was that she would surely find her Lady the next day. For anything else to happen would be too horrible! And horrible things didn't happen to pugs. They simply didn't. Yet in the back of her mind a thought wiggled: But what if they do?

Chapter Two

When Penelope awoke, a heavy rain had fallen in the night, and the ground was soggy. She took a sniff of dirt and that's when she realized that any chance of finding the trail back to her Lady had been washed away.
 
"Well, what is it we have here?" asked a duck who was on a morning stroll with her ducklings. "A pug on her own in the park? I have never seen the like!"
 
"And I do not like to be the first," said Penelope. "But, you see, I've lost my Lady. Perhaps you've seen her?"
 
"How would I know?" said the duck. "Since I've never seen you?"
 
Penelope introduced herself and proceeded to describe her Lady. She was very tall (of course, to a pug, all humans are) and had a delightful scent that reminded Penelope of fresh red apples.
 
"I'm afraid I've seen no such human," said the duck. "Although I only pay attention to the humans who throw bread in Swan Pond, and even then I barely notice them."
 
"It could be worse, I suppose," said Penelope.
 
"Why do you say that?" asked the duck.
 
"Because I'm certain my Lady is looking for me."
 
"But what if she isn't?"
 
"Isn't what?"
 
"Isn't looking for you?"
 
Penelope paused at this frightful thought, then quickly put it out of her mind.
 
"She is," she said. "She simply must be."
 
"I wouldn't know about such things," said the duck, as wisps of clouds floated across the sky like cotton candy. "But if you can't find your Lady, then I'm afraid you will become a lone."
 
"What is a lone?"
 
"A lone is a lost dog who has no Lady."
 
"But I don't want to be a lone," said Penelope.
 
"Who would?" said the duck. She turned and walked away, instructing her ducklings to follow, for they had lingered far too long.
 
For the rest of the day, Penelope searched for her Lady to no avail. Then she searched the next day, and the day after that, and even more days after that. But weeks passed, and Penelope could not find her Lady, nor did her Lady find her.
 
Sometimes Penelope would see ladies and gentlemen walking their dogs, and she'd call out, "Have you seen my Lady?" But neither hound nor poodle had seen her anywhere.
 
Penelope realized she simply had to accept the truth: She was a lone.

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Excerpted from Puggleton Park #1 by Deanna Kizis
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.