Moko’s Big Adventure

Gage took a deep breath of warm, pine-scented air. Visiting Grandma’s cabin in Beaver Valley with his sister, Kennedy, and his cousin Chloe was his favorite week of the whole summer. They loved painting small rocks with Lizzy, the neighbor across the road, and exploring the neighborhood on Grandma’s golf cart. Every morning, Gage raced the girls down the dusty path to the East Verde River. They swung on the old tire swing and splashed into the cool water. They hunted for crawdads along the muddy banks. Moko, Grandma’s little Shih Tzu, trotted along on every adventure, her bright black eyes watching their every move.

Grandma made sure they were safe before they set out. She checked that each of them wore a whistle on a string around their neck. “Just in case,” she said with a smile. She also handed out walkie-talkies. Out here in the valley, cell phones hardly ever had a signal, but a good walkie-talkie always worked. “If you need me, just call.”

“We know, Grandma,” Gage said, looping the whistle over his head. “You tell us every day.”

“And I’ll keep telling you every single day,” she said, swatting him gently with her dish towel.

One warm afternoon, Gage walked home from the river with the girls, all of them laughing and bumping each other to be first on the path. Grandma met them at the porch steps, and her smile faded.

“Where’s Moko?”

Gage’s stomach dropped. “You mean… she didn’t follow us home?” He whirled around. The little dog was nowhere in sight.

“Moko!” Grandma called, her voice already sharp with worry. “Moko, where are you, girl?”

Gage and the girls ran back down the path, calling for the little dog as they went.

By late afternoon, Moko was still missing. They headed back to the cabin to make a plan.

Grandma called every neighbor in Beaver Valley, asking if anyone had seen her little friend. She dabbed her eyes with a crumpled tissue.

“I should have had her microchipped,” she whispered, wringing her hands.

Gage looked at Chloe and Kennedy. Together, they gathered around Grandma at the kitchen table.

“Don’t worry, Grandma. We’ll find Moko and bring her home,” Kennedy said.

“We promise,” Chloe added, squeezing Grandma’s hand.

The three of them sprang into action. They filled their backpacks with water bottles, a few of Moko’s favorite treats, and her purple leash. Grandma made sure each of them had a walkie-talkie.

The afternoon shadows stretched long across the road as they set out, calling, “Moko! Here, girl! Moko!”

Nothing stirred at Dano and Lin’s place except the wind chimes on the front porch. Gage peeked behind the old message board by the community mailboxes and found only lizards. Even the clearing where the wild sunflowers stood tall and golden was empty.

“She has to be here somewhere,” Chloe muttered, kicking a rock. “She wouldn’t just wander off.”

“Not Moko,” Kennedy agreed. “Something’s wrong.”

After an hour, worry crept into Gage’s heart. “What if Moko tries to bark at the javelinas?” His voice came out tighter than he meant it to. He pictured the wild, hairy animals that looked like pigs, with their sharp teeth and bad tempers. Sometimes they roamed right through the valley.

“I hope she won’t,” Kennedy said. “Remember when those elk walked past the cabin? Moko ran straight to the gate and barked as if she were saying, ‘Just keep walking! Nothing to see here!’ She might be small, but she’s not afraid of anything.”

“That’s what worries me,” Chloe said softly. “She’s so brave, she doesn’t know when to run away.”

The sun sank lower behind the pines. Gage’s legs ached, and his throat was scratchy from shouting. He didn’t care. He was not going home without Moko.

That’s when he heard it.

Barking.

It was a high-pitched, determined bark that could belong to only one little dog. It floated up from the river, somewhere downstream from the tire swing.

“That’s her!” all three of them shouted at once.

They ran toward the sound, and Gage forgot all about his aching legs. He scrambled along the muddy bank, rounded a bend, and skidded to a stop.

There stood Moko at the base of a big ponderosa pine, her fur soaked and streaked with mud. Huddled between her front paws, shaking like a leaf, was a tiny, wet, gray kitten.

“Moko!” Kennedy called.

The little dog barked once, her fluffy tail wagging hard, but she did not leave the kitten’s side.

Gage crept closer and knelt in the mud. The kitten was soaked from her pink nose to the tip of her tail, and river water still dripped from the fur on Moko’s neck. “They’ve both been in the river,” he said slowly.

Chloe gasped. “The kitten must have fallen in. Moko pulled her out!”

Gage crouched lower. A line of small paw prints ran up and down the muddy bank as far as he could see in either direction. He traced one with his finger. “Look at this,” he said. “It looks like she’s been marching back and forth along this bank, searching for the kitten’s mother.” He glanced up at the girls. “That’s why she never came home.”

“Here, kitty, kitty! Here, Mama Cat!” they called along the bank, but only the river answered.

“She must be a stray,” Chloe said.

“Then she’s coming home with us,” Gage decided. He wrapped the shivering kitten in his flannel shirt and tucked her gently against his chest. She weighed less than a pinecone.

Kennedy dropped to her knees, and this time Moko let herself be scooped up, a wiggling, licking bundle of muddy fur. Chloe clipped the purple leash to Moko’s collar and poured water into her cupped hand. The thirsty dog lapped up every drop, and a treat disappeared in one happy gulp.

Kennedy pulled out her walkie-talkie and pressed the button. “Grandma? Grandma, can you hear me? Over.”

The walkie-talkie crackled. “I’m here! Did you find her? Over.”

“Yes! We’re on our way back.” Kennedy grinned so wide that Gage thought her face might split. “And Moko’s bringing home a surprise! Over.”

Grandma’s voice cracked over the static. “Oh, thank heavens! Wait. What kind of surprise? Over.”

“You’ll see! Over and out!” all three of them shouted.

The walk home felt shorter than the search had, even though it was the same dusty road. Moko trotted proudly beside them, stopping every few steps to check on the small bundle in Gage’s arms.

The screen door flew open before they reached the top step of the porch. Grandma rushed out, tears streaming down her smiling face. She scooped up Moko, muddy fur and all, and the little dog licked away her happy tears.

Then the flannel bundle in Gage’s arms let out a tiny mew.

Grandma’s eyes widened. “Well, bless my buttons! Who is this?”

Gage told her the whole story: the barking by the river, the soaked kitten, and the paw prints marching up and down the muddy bank. Grandma listened with her hand over her heart.

“Our Moko,” she said softly. “My hero dog.” She gathered all three of them into a giant hug, with Moko happily squished in the middle.

“My heroes,” Grandma said. “All four of you.”

That evening, Gage ate two helpings of Grandma’s famous spaghetti and meatballs, plus a thick slice of her banana bread for dessert. Grandma brought out homemade dog biscuits for Moko, who crunched them under the table, and a little dish of tuna for the kitten, who gobbled up every bite.

“She needs a name,” Chloe said.

Gage looked at the little gray kitten, now clean and dry, curled up against Moko’s fluffy side. “Verde,” he said. “Because Moko pulled her out of the East Verde River.”

Everyone agreed it was the perfect name.

After dinner, the stars came out one by one above the pines, and everyone settled onto the porch. Grandma rocked in her chair and told the story of a brave little dog who saved a kitten from the river, and of the three grandchildren who brought them both home safe.

Moko curled up in Grandma’s lap and thumped her tail. Verde snuggled into Gage’s lap and purred, as if they both remembered every detail of Moko’s big adventure.

Gage leaned back and smiled. It was the best story yet.

The End