001Hey boys and girls. I'm Beth Vulture. I'm the director of technology and innovation and I'm really excited to be reading Doctown with you today. Before we get started, I want to mention that we're going to come across a really long word infinite decimal. That means extremely small. So when you hear that, just remember that it means extremely small. Infinite decimal. Chapter 61. The sign. I saw a sign with a dog's photo and the words lost dog. I have trouble deciphering photos sometimes, especially from a distance, but the dog in the photo had a white patch over her eye. The dog's paws were tucked under her, so I couldn't tell if there were three or four, but the Bessers wouldn't know I had three legs. All of their photos of me would be from back when
002I had four legs. Of course, I knew I'd been gone for nearly a year. The chances of there being a sign for me was infantessimal, but there it was. Management had said Dog Town needed airing out. The door would be open for a little while anyway. I would hop to the sign, see who was on it, and hop back inside. Easy peasy. Mouse thought it was a bad idea. His tail was swapping me on my left side, then on my right. But I ignored him like I was in a trance. Jesse and Professor Besser were looking for me. I hobbled as fast as I could to the telephone pole with mouse grasping my fur and wpping me with his tail. My heart began to pound. I could almost smell the blueberry pancakes. The closer I
003got, the slower I hopped. The dog had a patch over his eye, just like me, but his hair was shorter and his nose not so pointy. I just needed to see better, I told myself. But when I got closer, it didn't say last dog. It said last blog. It was a dog blog. The last one of the year, and the dog in the photo was not me. In my mind, I was back under the Besser's table, curled up at Jesse's feet while she did her homework. I could smell the salmon as it came out of the oven. I could hear the fish scraps hit my bowl, and I could feel the warmth of Jesse's toes under my cheek. But now here I was on the cold, hard ground, my nose running, my paws freezing, the
004cold wind ruffling my fur. I wasn't even embarrassed that I had acted like a first day boohoo in front of Mouse and Metalhead. I was just sad. I suspected my mistake had something to do with Geraldine. I trusted her, and when she'd said I'd find my forever home, I believed her. She gave me hope, and hope is a painful business. "Sorry, mouse," I said as I began hopping back to Dogtown. The door was still open. If I hurried, we could slip back inside before anyone saw us. "Wait," Metalhead called. Metalhead wanted us to go with him. "Who wouldn't prefer to travel with company?" But I knew I had to look after mouse and me. Even Even if by some crazy miracle, Metalheads humans wanted him back, they certainly wouldn't want a tight rodent and a
005three-legged dog. Look, Metalhead shouted. Front desk was walking up the path. I ducked behind a bush. When I peeked out, she'd locked the door. The shelter wasn't open to the public until 10:00. [Music] Management would come back. She'd open the door to air out the place, wouldn't she? But management didn't come back. The door stayed closed. It's only a few hours. Why not enjoy your freedom for a little while? You can always go back. Why not take a chance?" Middlehead asked me. I never liked it when dogs use my name against me. It's your last chance. It's your only chance. Take a chance. Give me a chance. So annoying. Anywh who, I wasn't about to go with Metalhead. I'll slow you down, I said. It's not that far. No stairs or hills. It's no farther
006than three trips to the basement. You'll have to wait until Dog Town opens to return anyway. Why not have a little adventure? Don't you want to see my home? Middlehead pleaded. I did, actually. I can't say that middle was a friend then. He was more of a friend of a friend. Quinn liked him and I liked Quinn. But yeah, I did want to see if everything worked out for him. But that wasn't the real reason I said yes. The real reason was something I didn't want to admit. There were a lot of foam poles up ahead, and maybe they had signs, too.