Hotel for Dogs by Lois Duncan ch 7-2
“He's picked you for his master, that's for sure,” Tim said, when he and Andi had joined Bruce inside. He glanced about with interest. “Where are the rest of your boarders?” “In the front bedroom.” Andi darted ahead to lead the way down the hall. “Friday just loves it. It's so sunny and pretty. Of course, Red is a man's dog — he'll like the family room. It's all wood paneled.” Friday's room, when the door was thrown open, was as much of a surprise to Bruce as it was to Tim. He had not been in it himself since they had settled the dogs in, and though he knew that Andi had been spending all of her free time here, he had not guessed the extent of her activities.
The room shone! Gone were the dust and the cobwebs that had collected during the long period when the house had stood empty. For a girl who did not like housework, Andi had swept and scrubbed until the floor and woodwork gleamed. The glass of the windows had been cleaned so that the sunlight flooded through, bringing the pink-papered walls to vibrant life.
But this was not all. A pink throw rug lay across the bare boards of the floor. Pink rosebud curtains hung at the side window. A bed, fashioned from a clothes basket, sat in the corner of the room, and, inside it, a fluffy white dog and three puppies lay, curled in luxurious comfort, on a pillow that said “Bone Sweet Bone.” “That's not Friday!” Bruce exclaimed. “Friday's brown!” “The brown came off,” Andi said. “That was just dirt. I washed her with Snow White Shampoo for Senior Citizens, and now her hair's the exact same color as Aunt Alice's.” “But this room!” Bruce gestured in amazement at the transformation. “Where did you get all the stuff to make it look like this?” “Different places.” Andi looked smug. “I found the rug up in Aunt Alice's attic. It was just lying there, all rolled up in a corner. The basket was down in the basement. It had old magazines in it.” “How about the curtains?” Bruce stepped closer to examine them more critically. “This isn't old cast-off stuff. This is brand-new material. It hasn't even been hemmed. And that pillow is just like the one Bebe had at home.” “Nobody was using the material.” Andi began to look uncomfortable. “It was in the sewing closet. And it is Bebe's pillow. I brought it with me to remember her by. I didn't think she'd mind my lending it to Friday.” “She probably wouldn't,” Bruce said. “But that material is not yours. Aunt Alice must have bought it for some reason. That's stealing, Andi! You can't take material that somebody paid good money for and cut it up for fun.” “It wasn't for fun,” Andi said. “It was for Friday. She's a new mother. She needs to have pretty things around her. Besides, Aunt Alice was never going to make anything out of that. I'm sure she wasn't. She hasn't sewed a single thing since we've been living with her.” “How could she when you're sleeping in the sewing room?” Bruce reminded her. “It can't be the greatest thing for the old lady, having a family land on top of her like this. I bet she's counting the days until she can have her house to herself again and sew like crazy.” “Oh, I don't think so,” Andi said decidedly. “I bet she got that material on sale without having any use for it. She's probably been looking at it ever since, just wishing it wasn't there.” “Why did you use it on just one window?” Tim asked her. “Because that window's on the side of the house where the bushes are. If I'd done the front one, people could have seen the curtains from the street.” Andi turned pleadingly to her brother. “You do think they look nice, don't you, Bruce?” “It's not a question of whether they look nice,” Bruce said. “The thing is, you've cut up something that doesn't belong to you. You're going to have to replace that material, Andi. You can't just take things, even for Friday.” “You took Red,” Andi muttered. “That's stealing too, isn't it? I bet a dog like Red Rover costs a lot more than some old cloth.” “That's different,” Bruce said defensively. “I took Red for his own sake.” He paused as the logical part of his mind fought with his feelings. Red Rover was a valuable dog, of that there was no question. Mr. Gordon undoubtedly had paid a good price for him when he bought him for Jerry.
“I'll pay them,” he said now, after a moment of consideration. “I'll find out how much a good Irish setter costs, and I'll save up the money and pay it. I'll leave it in an envelope in the Gordons' mailbox.” “It looks like this hotel is getting to be an expensive operation,” Tim remarked. “What about food? How are you paying for that?” “I've been taking table scraps,” Andi said. “Bruce thinks that won't work much longer.” “It sure won't after today,” Bruce said. “Not after the way you copped out on cleaning the kitchen. From now on you're going to have Mom or Aunt Alice standing over you every time you pick up a dish towel.” “I've seen how Red Rover eats,” Tim said. “You'll never take care of him with table scraps. It's going to have to be dog food, and plenty of it. I guess we'll just have to go to work and start earning.” “We?” Bruce said. “This isn't your responsibility. It's Andi and I who got ourselves into the hotel business.” “Well, I'd like to be a partner,” Tim said. “That is, if you want me. I've never had a dog of my own. This way I can be part owner of five of them.”
