Marvin Plays Ball

Marvin was a big dog. He looked as if he had just fallen into a mud puddle—a very big mud puddle—because only his face and the tip of his tail were white. The rest of him, including his beard and the fringe on his long, floppy ears, was a muddy brown color.

Marvin belonged to Jinx and Jazz. They loved him, and they thought he was beautiful. Their mother thought Marvin was a silly-looking mutt and a pest.

Well, to be fair, Marvin looked silly. And he acted silly. For instance, if you asked him to sit, even if you did it in a gentle, firm, dog-lady kind of voice, Marvin barked. If you asked him to roll over, he sat down. And if you called, “Marvin, come,” well, sometimes he did and sometimes he didn’t.

That’s the kind of dog Marvin was.

The only thing Marvin was really good at was playing ball. He had three balls—four, if you count the blue one that had been lost since last summer. He had a dirty old tennis ball. That was his favorite. He had a clean new tennis ball. That was his favorite too. And he had a red rubber ball with a hole chewed out of one side. That was also his favorite.

When Marvin played ball, he looked a lot less silly. Well, he looked a little less silly. Jinx said Marvin could be shortstop for the Yankees. Jazz said Marvin could be an Olympic medalist. Their mother said Marvin couldn’t play ball in the house.

One rainy afternoon while their mother was at work, Jinx and Jazz were playing ball with Marvin in the living room.

And something terrible happened to their mother’s mother’s mother’s rose jar.

Marvin was not very popular that night. (Well, to be fair, neither were Jinx and Jazz.) In fact, Marvin was banished to his bedroom. Marvin slept in the downstairs bathroom, even though he had to squoosh himself between the sink and the toilet when he wanted to lie down. He liked to sleep there for some doggy reason. But he didn’t like being banished, way before his bedtime.

Jinx and Jazz were being especially nice to their mother. Jinx did the dishes and Jazz took out the garbage—without being asked. And they didn’t watch TV, not even for five minutes. (Well, to be fair, “ALF” was a repeat that night.) After a while, their mother noticed how especially good they were, and she stopped being mad and said about the rose jar and said they could all go out for ice cream. All but Marvin, of course.

So Jinx and Jazz and their mother went out, leaving Marvin in his room. Naturally he had water to drink and a bone to chew on, but he would rather have been playing ball.

Marvin chewed his bone for about two weeks. Well, it seemed like two weeks to him. It was really fifteen minutes. Dogs aren’t good at telling time. Then he settled down for a nap. There isn’t much else to do in a tiny little bathroom all by your doggy doggy self. Well, to be fair, there are a lot of bad things a dog can do, but Marvin wasn’t really bad. He was just silly. And crazy about playing ball.

Suddenly Marvin heard a noise. It was a very small noise, but it woke him up all the same. Dogs wake up quickly because their great great grandfathers—wolves—are wild. Animals that live in the wild have to be able to wake up instantly to protect themselves.

The noise that Marvin heard was the back door was opening. Then Marvin heard someone tiptoeing into the house.

Marvin sniffed, and he didn’t recognize the person’s smell. He was excited and happy. He thought someone new was going to play ball with him. He gave one loud here-I-am-let-me-out woof, but whoever it was didn’t let him out.

So Marvin decided to let himself out. He put his great big muddy-colored paw on the doorknob, and it turned a little. He did this several times. Well, to be fair, he did it a hundred and seventeen times. Then the latch clicked. Marvin snuffled and pushed with his big doggy nose and edged the door open wider and wider until he was free!

Marvin ran into the hall because he remembered that his favorite ball was there. He was very excited and very happy. He loved to play ball with a new person.

He found his red favorite ball and picked it up in his mouth. Then he played bouncy-bouncy with it a few times just to get it good and slimy. Then he grabbed the ball and ran upstairs.

The stranger was in Jinx and Jazz’s mother’s room, opening her dresser drawer. Marvin went right up to the stranger and rubbed his wet, slimy ball against the man’s legs.

“Hey!” The man turned around with a start.

Marvin dropped the ball at the man’s feet, danced backward a few steps, and waited.

“Good dog,” said the man, but he didn’t say it as if he meant it.

Marvin walked up to the man and gave his huge, loud, play-ball-with-me bark.

“Good dog,” said the man again. He meant it even less this time.

Marvin put his wet, slimy mouth on the man’s hand, very gently, just to remind him that he was supposed to throw the ball.

The man jerked his hand away. “Good dog,” he said again in a very unhappy voice. “Sit.”

Marvin barked.

The man turned back to the dresser and picked up a few things. (He was a burglar, of course.)

Marvin picked up his ball and rubbed it against the man’s legs again. Then he dropped it and danced back a few steps until he was standing right in the middle of the doorway. He waited for the man to throw the ball. The man took a step forward. Marvin barked. The man took a step backward—very quickly.

Finally, the man picked up the ball. He threw it away from the door. He thought that would give him a chance to dash out of the room and out of the house.

But Marvin was an ace. Marvin was a shortstop for the Yankees. Marvin had an Olympic medal. Well, almost.

Marvin caught the ball and brought it back to the man before the man had time to take even one step.

The man threw the ball again. Marvin caught it again. This went on for quite a while.

Finally the man thought of rolling the ball under the bed. Then Marvin wouldn’t get the ball so quickly. The man carefully rolled the ball under the bed. Marvin liked that. He wasn’t really allowed to crawl under the bed, but he wasn’t really allowed to play ball in the house, either.

The man saw his chance. He ran for the bedroom door. And just at that very minute, Jinx and Jazz and their mother got home.

“There’s someone upstairs,” cried Jinx and Jazz together.

“Call the police—911,” said their mother, running into the hall.

Jinx ran to the phone to call the police. Jazz ran into the hall to call Marvin.

“Marvin,” called Jazz. “Marvin, come!”

Now you remember that Marvin wasn’t very reliable about “come.” Sometimes he came and sometimes he didn’t. But Marvin was in a good mood. He had just had a wonderful game of ball with a new person. So he went bounding down the stairs right after the burglar.

Marvin was big and not very graceful, and he bumped into the burglar just a little. Well, to be fair, he bumped into the burglar a lot. In fact, he bumped the burglar all the way downstairs. The burglar fell in a heap, knocked out cold.

“Wow,” said Jazz, staring at the burglar.

“Wow,” said Jinx, staring at Marvin.

But their mother said, “Good dog, Marvin,” and she really really really meant it.

P.S. After the police had taken the burglar away, Jinx and Jazz’s mother went back to the ice cream store and bought a vanilla cone, one scoop, just for Marvin.

THE END