A puppy named Sugarpaws was raised by a boy named Sammy. She was named Sugarpaws because she loved cookies, and always had sweet stuff sticking to her paws. She was golden brown, and she had a beaded flower crown on top of her head because Sammy and Sugarpaws found scraps and put it together. He fed her, slept with her, tenderly stroked her, and was always her companion. Even though Sammy was a slave, he did everything he could to take care of Sugarpaws. Sammy gave Sugarpaws a nickname. Her nickname was Queenie because she acted so royal. Everyday, Queenie thought about how Sammy got punished. One day, she decided that she would help Sammy. Queenie would scout and steal food from Sammy’s owner, and then they would have a feast every night.
Today was the day she would start stealing! She would start going into ninja mode. Queenie knew she wouldn’t get caught if she were camouflaged. She always knew that, like a circus dog, she could walk on her hind legs for a long time. When one of the maids came out of the mansion, Queenie grabbed the maid and put her in the outhouse and took her clothes. Now Queenie was a “maid.” The maid’s clothes were navy and white, and she had a white apron and laced socks, a navy black dress, and black heels. Now, Queenie had to tie up her ears so it would look like hair in a bun. But her ears kinda looked like a cinnamon bun, instead of a hair bun! Queenie was a little worried that she looked furry, but she knew it was okay because she had a lot of clothes on.
Now, it was time to go inside the mansion. Wait! She forgot to put on the gloves so that her paws wouldn’t show. Now, she was ready.
She knocked on the door. The door was made out of thin marble with lots of fancy designs and swirls on the top.
“Who is it?” a deep, growly voice asked.
Queenie thought, I don’t know how to speak. Well, Sammy taught me how to say hi.
She opened her mouth and said, “Hi!”
Then, a bulky, muscular man opened the door. “Stella, what’s wrong? You always know the code.”
Queenie thought, Wait. I know the code? I mean, yeah I know the code! I’m the maid!
She turned her head sideways and shot the man a questioning glance.
The bulky man said in a hoarse whisper, “The code is ‘We love the mistress.’”
Queenie giggled inside her head. Now, Queenie knew the code, so she could deliver it to Sammy! She nodded once and entered the mansion.
It was much, much, much bigger than the old cabin that Sammy and Queenie lived in. She saw a long corridor. On both sides, there were really, really pretty pictures and vases of lilacs and tulips. One of the tulips had a muddy pawprint on them. Queenie knew that those were the bunches of flowers she had picked with Sammy. After every picture, there was a door.
Suddenly, a fat, mustached man popped out of nowhere. Queenie knew at once that he was the “Mister” as Sammy called him. In real life, the man was actually named Eugene Andrew Frances II. The bulky man bowed clumsily, and Queenie knew she was in big trouble! She didn’t know how to curtsy! Thankfully, “Mister” didn’t notice and went to the bulky man instead.
“Thank God!” Queenie squealed silently.
“Arthur, you’re supposed to be serving Mistress her dinner.”
“I apologize greatly, Sir,” Arthur half-groaned.
Arthur rolled his eyes, but “Mister” didn’t notice. He was now staring suspiciously at Queenie.
“Mister” said, “That’s better,” while staring at Queenie even more suspiciously, giving her a look as if he had X-ray vision.
Queenie started feeling uncomfortable and noticed that her heels were not as cushiony as she thought. Finally, Eugene looked away and walked back through the corridor.
“Arthur!” a shrill voice called from a place Queenie assumed to be the dining room.
Then, that’s when she noticed that this voice belonged to the mistress. She felt much more alert now because she knew that she could not steal food while the mistress was dining. She’d either have to go in the kitchen, or take what was left.
“Stella?” Mistress called again.
Queenie took off at a run for the dining table. She stuffed the food inside of the pouches and sacks that she carried, and stuffed some in her paw, and started running for the door on all threes. All three paws, she meant.
Sammy was picking cotton when Queenie burst through the doors. She started fiddling with the lock.
She barked what sounded like, “Arf! Arf! Lock the doors for me!”
Sammy stopped, ran toward the doors, took a safety pin, and turned the pin in the lock. With a click, the doors locked shut. Mistress and Arthur started banging on the doors and screaming loudly.
Out of nowhere, Arthur exclaimed, “We’re so stupid! There’s a back door!”
Oops! Queenie led Sammy to the back door. When she came, he turned the safety pin once again, and the doors were shut. Now, the owners of the mansion were trapped in their own home. At least they had enough supplies to survive for a million years. They would be happy there. At least, that’s what their neighbors thought. Mistress got what she deserved.
Twenty minutes later, Sugarpaws heard the owners and the servants give up and go back to their rooms. She slipped into the now-quiet mansion, took all of their food in a big sack, and dragged it back outside. All the slaves had a big celebration.
Sammy said, “I don’t know where my family is, but you’re my family.”