About the Author
“Thirty-one, thirty-two…” DJ yanked another weed from the garden and tossed it into the bucket. Wait till Mom found out he had weeded the garden, all by himself, without even being asked. Wouldn’t she be surprised!
Yank, toss. Yank, toss. Maybe Mom would be so happy about the weeding, she would forget about the peanut-butter disaster this morning. The memory played through DJ’s mind like a bad movie.
They were dog-sitting Rufus Crudley. Rufus was Uncle Dave’s dog. He was the best dog in the world, except for one thing. Rufus would eat anything he could get his jaws around. That is how the disaster happened.
DJ had made himself a Super Stacker for lunch. Salami, two kinds of cheese, onion, sun-dried tomatoes, raisins and peanut butter. He took it into the den and sat on the sofa. Oops—he’d forgotten the milk. He put his Super Stacker down and went to the kitchen.
Unfortunately, DJ had also forgotten two strict rules. One—never leave food on the sofa. Two—never, ever leave food alone when Rufus Crudley is around.
DJ heard a choking, gagging sound. He raced back to the den. Fortunately, the piece Rufus was choking on came up. Unfortunately, so did the rest of the Super Stacker.