‘Too Tall Topsy’

Old Mr. Weatherby worked at the Senior Center in the morning. He volunteered at the hospital every afternoon. But at night he came home to an empty lonely apartment. One summer day he saw a box in front of the grocery store that said, “Puppies for Sale $1.” One little black puppy huddled in a corner of the box.

“I sold all the others,” said the boy sitting by the box.

Mr. Weatherby picked up the trembling puppy and said, “And now you’re lonely. I know how that is.”

“My mom said I have to stay here until all the puppies are gone,” the boy said. “You can have this last one for free.”

Mr. Weatherby said, “My apartment is too small for a big dog.”

The boy said, “This one’s mother is a little poodle, only this tall.” He held his hand up to his knee. The puppy licked Mr. Weatherby’s hand.

“All right,” he said. “if you’re sure this puppy won’t get too tall.”

Mr. Weatherby named the puppy, “Topsy.” Every night when he came home, Topsy licked his hand and wagged her tail. In the evening, she sat on his lap while they watched TV. Topsy was very smart. She learned to fetch Mr. Weatherbys slippers, the newspaper, her leash, and her stuffed bunny. But there were two problems, a big one and a little one. The little one was the telephone. Whenever it rang, Topsy barked furiously.

“It’s the phone, Topsy.” Mr. Weatherby showed her the phone on the wall. He scolded, “Now stop that barking.”

He had to scold her many times before Topsy finally understood she mustn’t bark when the phone rang.

The big problem was that Topsy grew too tall. By Christmas she was too big to sit on Mr. Weatherby’s lap to watch TV.

“I can’t see over your head. You’re too tall,Topsy.”

Topsy always had to ride in the back seat of the car.

“I can’t see over your head when you ride in front,” Mr. Weatherby said. “You’re too tall,

Topsy.”

Then one day, when Mr. Weatherby was fixing dinner, Topsy reached up on the kitchen counter and helped herself to Mr. Weatherby’s hamburger patty. From then on, he made Topsy stay out of the kitchen when he was cooking.

“You’re too tall,Topsy.”

Mr. Weatherby said, “You’re too tall, Topsy” so many times that “Too Tall Topsy” was almost like a new name. Until one Saturday morning. Mr. Weatherby was waxing his kitchen floor. He slipped and fell. He landed with his leg twisted under him. When he tried to reach the phone on the wall, it hurt so much he almost fainted. What could he do? Topsy tried to comfort Mr. Weatherby by licking his cheek.

Mr. Weatherby had an idea. “Topsy, the phone! Fetch the phone!” He pointed to the phone on the wall.

Topsy knew what “fetch” meant. She knew what “phone” meant. She stood on her back legs. She stretched and stretched until she was just tall enough to grab the phone in her mouth. She carried it to Mr. Weatherby.

“Good dog,Topsy! Good dog,” Mr. Weatherby said as he punched 9-1-1 on the phone.

When the paramedics came, one of them said, “This is a bad break. How did you ever get to the telephone?”

Mr. Weatherby smiled. “My dog brought it to me. I used to think she was too tall. But now I know my Too Tall Topsy is not too tall at all.”

Special thanks to Janet Takahashi for her illustration. To see more of her work, visit janettakahashi.com.

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