Mi Amiga: Two Dogs and a Cat Go Sailing

By Kay Grynwald

ALL PAWS ON DECK!

Pack a snack for a daring overnighter at Lake Pleasant with a trio of four-legged, city sailors fixed on adventure. Button’s human, Brian, must have been surprised when she chewed through the dock lines setting his sailboat adrift. A second little dog jumped out of the cabin followed by a half-wild house cat, mates enough to sail the boat. Maybe that’s why Brian gave Button two thumbs up.

Almost as soon as her sails filled, Mi Amiga and her crew tickled the curiosity of three wild burros, the royal daughters, whose ancient powers spirited the unusual sailors to shore. That little bit of magic roused an unpredictable trickster more powerful than their mother, the queen.

Come sailing into just the right amount of danger with Mi Amiga’s crew: Waylon, Happy, and Button on a sprawling lake set in the middle of a desert.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kay Grynwald
• Release date: Mar 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005774080

Book preview

MI AMIGA:

Two Dogs and a Cat Go Sailing

Kay Grynwald

Mi Amiga: Two Dogs and a Cat Go Sailing.

© 2021 Kay Grynwald. All Rights Reserved.

Smashwords 2022 eBook Edition ISBN-13: 978-1-00577-408-0

Paperback ISBN-13: 979-8-54691-194-2

To Cousin Sam.

Contents

Dramatis Animalia, Personæ, et cetera

Map of Lake Pleasant

Chapter One: The Stowaways

Chapter Two: The Royal Family

Chapter Three: Commandeering the Vessel

Chapter Four: In the Wind

Chapter Five: Odysseus

Chapter Six: The Three Sisters

Chapter Seven: Help from the Queen

Chapter Eight: Camping Out

Chapter Nine: The Trickster

Chapter Ten: Rescue

Chapter Eleven: The Heroes Return

A Sloop Sailor’s Glossary

Acknowledgments

A Note about a Name

Dramatis Animalia, Personæ, et cetera

From the city.

Button: a twenty-six-pound, long-legged, female Basenji; Brian’s companion

Brian: a human man, about fifty years old, from Phoenix, AZ; owns the sailboat Mi Amiga

Happy: a nineteen-pound, short-legged, female mixed-breed; neighbor to Button and Brian

Waylon: an eight-pound, ageless, feral tomcat

Odysseus: a seventy-plus pound, eight-year-old, male golden retriever mix; lives with Bud

Bud: a human man, about forty-five years old, from Phoenix, AZ; would rather be fishing

From the lake.

Reina: queen of the wild burros who inhabit the desert surrounding the lake

Alcalde: husband of the queen

Luisa: eldest daughter

Ana: middle daughter

Elena: youngest daughter

From the air.

Ehecatl: an ancient Aztec god

MAP OF LAKE PLEASANT

1

The Stowaways

A coyote howl reverberated across miles of desert canyons, saguaro, cholla, quail, and rock. The Sonoran Desert of Arizona stretched across the horizon in prickly mountains cut by deep canyons. Tucked in those canyons is Lake Pleasant—a playground for anyone who likes wind and water.

At the lake on this spring morning, an azure, cloudless sky blanketed the green-brown scruffy mountains. Below those mountains rippled the ultramarine lake. Brian looked east into dawn, no sun yet. Blue-black waves tipped in white curled over themselves.

From the driver’s seat, Brian looked at his dog, Button, whose eyes glinted back at him. Little did Brian know that the glint in Button’s eye was more impish than normal. She had stowaway friends hiding in the van and a plan forming in her head.

Ready? Brian released the parking brake and the van and boat trailer started rolling backward, down the launch ramp.

Button grrr-ed a little and grinned.

Just one day ago, Button’s neighbor, Happy, a featherweight, fuzzy black dog, sparked the plan. Most mornings when Brian and Button walked by her house, Happy clambered up teetering crates and boxes along her fence. Her ears folded over like isosceles triangles and flapped like they were waving. Happy yammered, Button! Button! Button! Take me sailing! Take me sailing! Take me sailing!

I know you want to sail, Button told her every day.

I’m fun. You gotta take me.

That same morning, minutes after Brian drove away for work, Happy wiggled under the gate into Button’s back yard.

Happy plunked onto her bottom and stared. What’s the plan?

Button had never seen Happy be so still, so quiet. "He doesn’t work tomorrow. Maybe then. Keep an ear for my side gate opening. That’s the signal. When Brian backs up the van to hitch up Mi Amiga, you need to hot foot it to my front yard. Then when Brian goes inside to get the cooler, leap up into the side door of the van and hide."

Happy nodded like a bobblehead on the dashboard of a rock-climbing four-by-four.

In the night-dark early the next morning, Button’s gate squeaked. Happy jolted up on all fours and wriggled out of her yard. Keeping to the shadows, she padded over to Button’s front yard. Happy breathed in short bursts in the shadows.

With the van door pulled fully open and Brian in the house getting the cooler, Happy made her approach. The tiny dog needed vertical acceleration. She dug her claws in the dirt, pulled her haunches back and ran six bounding paces. Then the little dog lunged upward, snout high, ears pulled back by the wind, and she landed in the van on all fours.

After a good shake, Happy burrowed under a pile of mottled blue moving blankets. By the time Brian returned with the scuffed up red and white cooler, Happy lay still as a stone. The whole van shook when Brian slammed the side door. Silence from the pile of blankets. Button rode shotgun, sitting tall in the passenger seat, and the van dragged the sailboat on her trailer out of the yard and onto the street.

Minutes from home, Brian eased into a parking lot.

When Brian slammed the door behind him, Happy’s muffled barks erupted from the pile of blue fabric. Why are we stopped? Where is he going? Is something broken?

Happy, Button whispered, I forgot to tell you. Brian always gets a breakfast burrito. It’s people food. I love them. I’ll share my half with you when we get to the lake.

The little dog under the blue bundle sighed, Thanks.

A flash of green and a glint of red hovered near Button’s face. A hummingbird buzzed at its reflection in the passenger door window, and the jewel-like bird whizzed away.

In the deeper shade of the shrubs, a cat with a rip in his ear lay flat in the semi-darkness. The cat rose to standing. He was haggard—worn out and lean, but not skinny. Button rolled down the window and asked, You need anything?

Yes, I do. Water. The cat yowled. He struggled to stay on his feet.

Do you think you can you jump in here? Button asked.

I believe I can, purred the cat.

Button leaned out the open window. Feel free to join us. We have water. And in a little while, we’ll have food too.

From the pile of blankets Happy spluttered, What are you doing? He’s a stranger. I do not like this.

In a liquid, black licorice leap, the cat was in the passenger seat next to Button. He sniffed out Button’s water dish and lapped for more than a minute. When the cat came up for breath, he told his story: Been livin’ in Chula Vista. Got separated from my buddy, Willy, on our way to Phoenix. I hitched rides. First ride got me to Bakersfield. That was a mistake. No place for a city cat like me. Waylon groomed his face with his paw. I’m whupped from the road. I left a parking lot in Bakersfield, and now I’m in this parking lot in Phoenix. The cat licked his paw and washed his face. I am fortunate to meet with such generosity. Much obliged.

While the cat drank, Happy blurted and whined from the back of the van, Who are you? What is Bakersfield? Why should we trust you? Can you sail?

When the new guy finished drinking, he smiled at the pile of