Elvis and the Underdogs (13 page)

I chuckled at that too. Okay, I'll admit, Elvis could be pretty funny when he wanted to be.

There are three different
fourth-grade teachers in my school, and I may be biased, but I definitely have the best one. Ms. Blaine is fairly new to the school. So even though she's heard about my older twin brothers, she doesn't compare me to them like all my past teachers did. Anyway, as soon as Ms. Blaine met Elvis, she was all over him, petting him, stroking his head, scratching his ears, and cooing at him in that funny way people do when they love animals more than people. I was actually pretty surprised. This was not the same Ms. Blaine I had described to Elvis before we came to school today.

Yesterday, when Elvis and I got home after the hospital, I was exhausted. And even though I kept trying to nap, Elvis asked me all sorts of questions about my school, my teachers, and what he could expect the next day. I finally showed him my third-grade yearbook to shut him up. My mom came into my room to bring us a snack and caught me talking out loud to Elvis. I was trying to explain to him why my hair was so crazy-pants in my class picture last year. It all came down to bad timing on my part, because I had just finished presenting my science report on static electricity, which I had demonstrated by rubbing a balloon on my head, which had caused some of my hair to stand straight up, and then, of course we were called for pictures. Elvis found this story highly amusing.

Anyway, my mom gave me a strange look, and I was about to explain what I was talking about, but I thought about Dr. Helen's advice and decided to keep my mouth shut instead. She didn't press me, which goes to show Dr. Helen was right about how maybe my mom didn't need to know everything. Finally, after eating a plate of banana bread, Elvis fell asleep and, thankfully, so did I.

I wondered if Elvis remembered what I had told him about Ms. Blaine, because this was a totally different Ms. Blaine than I was used to. I just was so shocked watching her swooning over Elvis. Ms. Blaine is fairly strict, in my opinion. She's a no-nonsense New Yorker type who gives off the air that she's heard it all, so it's best to not even bother lying to her. While she was petting Elvis, she told me she has a friend in California who has the exact same type of dog, but female, and she joked that she'd show Elvis a picture of her later. So now my teacher is trying to make a love match for my dog? Or the president's dog? If Elvis found a girlfriend, what would that make her? The First Lady Dog of the White House?

Elvis enjoyed all the attention. Why wouldn't he? Ms. Blaine is by far the prettiest teacher in school. She doesn't dress like the other teachers, in print dresses. She usually wears all black and looks like she belongs in a science fiction movie about the future.

My class has twenty-seven kids in it, and pretty much every pair of eyes was on me, or truthfully, on Elvis, when we walked into my classroom the next morning. Ms. Blaine made Jesse Snyder switch seats with me so I could sit on the aisle and Elvis could lie next to me without blocking anyone. Jesse wasn't happy about it, but he knew better than to object, because Ms. Blaine never puts up with students talking back to her. She's quick to give you extra homework if you choose not to obey her commands. She's always saying, “Here's the deal. I'm the teacher and you're not. So what I say goes. If that's a problem with anyone here, I have plenty of extra homework assignments that I'm happy to pass out.” See, very straightforward and simple. No guesswork at all when it comes to what she wants and what her expectations are. We kids have enough on our minds when we're in fourth grade, so it's nice to have an adult in our lives who we don't have to try to figure out.

My new seat was the third chair from the front in the first row on the left by the door. I had only sat down for one second before Ms. Blaine said she wanted me to come up to the front of the classroom and introduce our new special guest. This was the last thing I wanted to do, but like I said, who am I to object to anything Ms. Blaine asks of me?

So I went to the front of the classroom, and Elvis walked up and sat right next to me. Let me be very clear, when Elvis is sitting up next to me, we're pretty much the same height, and of course, he weighs about four times what I do, so we looked like quite an unlikely pair.

“Hi, everyone. This is my new service dog, Elvis. Well, his full name is Parker Elvis Pembroke IV.”

Immediately the class started laughing. I wasn't sure why, but I looked over at Ms. Blaine, who motioned me to continue.

“He prefers his full name, but I think he looks more like an Elvis. He's a Newfoundland, which means he's in the working class of dog breeds. Newfoundland is in Canada, and it's very cold there. These dogs are used for water rescue. They were taken on ships so they could save sailors who went overboard. So I'm assuming he can swim, but I haven't seen him swim, so I don't know for sure.”

“Of course I can swim.” Elvis barked twice.

“Oh yeah, he can swim.” The class found this very amusing, that I was pretending to understand what my dog had to say.

“Very good, Benji. Now can you tell us why you have him?”

“Well, first off, there's been a mix-up from the farm where we got him, so there's a chance he's not even my permanent dog. My mom has been calling the place, but the guy she's supposed to talk to is on vacation at an eco lodge in South America. Apparently eco lodges don't have very good cell phone reception, because her calls keep going straight to voicemail. I suppose no one wants to hear about him, though.”

Again the classroom broke out into laughter, which was weird, because I wasn't trying to be funny or anything.

“So Benji, can you tell us why you need a service dog?”

“Sure, Ms. Blaine. I need a service dog because a few weeks ago I had a seizure in the hallway, which I'm sure everyone has heard about. And my doctor isn't totally sure yet what caused it and whether I might have another one. She wanted me to wear the world's ugliest helmet, but instead I got the world's largest dog. Elvis has been trained to help me if it happens again.”

Ms. Blaine raised her hand, which I found a little odd, but I went with it.

“Yes, Ms. Blaine, did you have a question?”

“I did, Benji, thank you. What exactly will Elvis do if it happens again? I mean, what sort of training did he have to be a service dog?”

“That's a very good question, but I have to be honest and say I don't really know the answer. My mom says that dogs who have this sort of training are able to sense it before I have a seizure, and then they make sure I'm in a safe location in case I fall down. They also know how to call for help. Just this morning when I tripped and fell down in my room getting ready for school, he picked me up by my pants and set me back up on my feet. It was pretty cool. Shall I demonstrate?”

I could tell Ms. Blaine wanted to see it, but at the same time she wasn't sure whether it was appropriate. But the whole classroom started stomping and cheering, and it's not like I've ever gotten this much attention, well, this much positive attention.

“Sure. Go right ahead.”

I looked over at Elvis. I was yammering on and on about him out of nervousness, and I never really checked in with him to see how he was feeling.

“Can we do this, boy?” I asked.

“You know I'm not a show pony, and this isn't show-and-tell,” Elvis said.

I turned back to Ms. Blaine and told her I needed a moment to have a miniconference with my dog. Everyone laughed, but I didn't care. I walked toward the corner, and Elvis followed me.

“Please? Can you just help a guy out?”

“I appreciate you asking nicely, but I'm not really here for fun and games. I'm here to protect you.”

“Really? What about our talk the other night about Taisy? You know, how you're just ‘the temp' so we can relax the rules a little bit? Don't you think that should be a two-way street?”

Elvis looked at me very seriously. “You are smarter than you appear, and I will concede your point. You gave a fine argument, so I will acquiesce.”

“I didn't understand anything you just said.”

“I said fine, you're right, and let's get this over with.”

I turned back around. “Okay, we're all set now. He gets stage fright sometimes and needs a pep talk.” The class broke out in laughter again, and I could tell Ms. Blaine was also trying hard not to laugh.

I lay facedown on the floor, and soon all the kids were standing up so they could get a better view. Elvis, without missing a beat, simply leaned forward, grabbed me by my belt, and tossed his head up, and boom, I was standing upright again.

The applause was thunderous. Seriously, I've never heard anything like it. They asked me to do it again. So again, I lay down on the floor, and again he whipped me back up so I was on my feet. The room was cheering, and I have no problem admitting that it felt amazing. No wonder the twins loved being sports champions. It was pretty awesome to have my classmates yelling out my name. I couldn't help myself, I hugged Elvis. “Good boy. Thanks, buddy,” I whispered into his fur.

“Let's do an encore, shall we?” he said back. “Tell them now I'll demonstrate what I'd do if someone came in to kidnap you.”

“What?”

Ms. Blaine thought I was talking to her, so she responded, “Did you need something, Benji?”

“Uh, do you want to see one more thing?”

The classroom responded with more stomping and clapping. Ms. Blaine laughed and motioned for me to go on.

“Uh, this is what Elvis would do if someone came in to kidnap me.”

“Well, this I have to see. Though I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen.” Ms. Blaine laughed.

“Let's hope you're right.” I went back and sat at my desk, but I was pretty nervous, because I had no idea what was about to happen next.

“Are you sure about this?”

Again, Ms. Blaine assumed I was talking to her because honestly, who else would she think I was talking to? Certainly not my talking dog! “It's only if you want to. If you're not comfortable, then we don't have to.” This was met with boos from everyone in class.

I'm not sure who started it, but suddenly the kids were chanting, “Benji, Benji, Benji.”

I guess I got swept up in the moment and just decided, what's the worst thing that could happen? I'd end up in the hospital again? So I nodded to Elvis that I was ready to go. Elvis barked three times and then ran over to the windows that lined the entire side of the wall. They were all open a few inches. He went from window to window, sticking his nose through the crack and opening up the window with the top of his head. Then he jumped up and looked out of each window, one by one. Next he ran over to my desk and pushed me out of my chair until I stood up. He grabbed me by the back of my pants like I was a bag of groceries and ran over to the third window, and with a toss of his head, he literally threw me out the window. It wasn't a far drop, just a foot or two, because I landed in some shrubs. Two seconds later Elvis jumped out the window himself, easily clearing the bushes. He walked back over to where I was still sprawled in the bushes, pulled me out, shook his head from side to side, which I guess was his way of shaking off all the leaves from me, and then set me upright on my feet.

When I looked up at the windows, all the kids were standing there cheering. Ms. Blaine looked totally freaked out over what had just happened, but she had a weird smile on her face too.

“Benji, are you okay?”

“I'm fine, Ms. Blaine. Thanks for asking.” I said this even though I didn't mean it. I, too, was completely freaked out over what had just happened. I mean, my dog just threw me out of the window of my school classroom.

“That was the craziest thing I've ever seen. Elvis actually picked which window to toss you out of. I guess he knew the shrubs would break your fall.”

“Yeah, I guess so. He's either really smart or he really doesn't like me.” Everyone laughed at this, and I chuckled along to show everyone I found it amusing too.

“Well, come on back inside. But this time, I want both of you to use the door.”

I nodded and headed to the front of the school. Elvis followed me, and as soon as we were alone, I turned to him.

“Are you crazy?! You threw me out a window! What kind of dog throws a person out the window? What if there weren't bushes below to break my fall?”

“Then I wouldn't have tossed you out. I would have found another way to save you. And it was better than you being kidnapped.”

“I wasn't being kidnapped, though! Why didn't you tell me what you were going to do?”

“Because if I had told you, you wouldn't have wanted to do it, and also, you would have gotten all tense, and that's when people really hurt themselves, because they're trying to break their fall. Trust me, it went much better because it was a surprise.”