Leave it to Beaver
“Beaver is a boy, and so of course, he is always in trouble. But when Beaver gets a dog, and the dog’s name is Trouble, there is more fun than usual. “Leave it to Beaver” is a popular television show.”
Beaver Cleaver was the busiest boy in town. He was busy from sun-up to sun-down. But somehow he alwasy found time to get into trouble.
“No question about it, if there’s trouble to be found, Beaver will find it,” was what his brother Wally would say.
One day, a larve crate arrived at the Cleaver house. Inside the crate was a dog and strange to say, his name was Trouble.
Mr Cleaver read the letter that came with the dog.
“I was unexpectedly called to San Francisco on business. Please take care of Trouble while I am gone. It will only be a few days.”
Love,
Uncle Conrad
“Just who is going to take care of this dog?” asked Mrs Cleaver. “I’m much too busy.”
“So am I,” said Mr Cleaver.
“And so am I,” said Welly.
“I will!” said Beaver.
Everyone looked at Beaver. They weren’t sure he was able to take care of a dog. But, since no one else wanted Trouble, they decided Beaver could have him.
And so that night, when Beaver went to sleep, Trouble slept at the foot of his bed. During the night Trouble chewed one of Beaver’s slippers to pieces.
Bright and early the next day, Trouble began barking and woke up Beaver. Beaver yawned and looked out the window. A stranger was climbing into the house next door!
Quickly Beaver called the police. But when the police came it turned out the man was the new neighbor who’s just moved in. He’d forgotten his keys.
“Beaver!” said Mrs Cleaver. “I have a suggestion to make. Why not take Trouble for a walk?”
So Beaver took Trouble for a walk. As they passed the fire house, Trouble barked loudly and the fire chief came out.
“Where did you get the fire dog?” the fire chief said.
“Is Trouble a fire dog?” asked Beaver.
“He sure is,” said the fire chief. “He’s a Dalmatian, and they’re real smoke eaters!”
“Here, let me show you,” said the fire chief.
On the wall of fire house was a picture of and old-time fire engine, pulled by horses. And running after the horses was a Dalmatian dog, just like Trouble.
“Come again sometime,” said the fire chief.
“We’re always glad to see boys and fire dogs.”
“I will,” said Beaver.
That night at dinner, Beaver told his family about his visit to the fire house.
“You know Dad,” said Beaver. “Since Trouble’s a fire dog, may I take him to a fire sometime?”
“Certainly you may not,” said Mr Cleaver.
“Fires are much too dangerous. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” said Beaver, a little sadly.
The next day Beaver and Trouble followed Wally to the baseball game at Smith’s vacant lot.
No sooner had the game begun when Trouble scampered away with the ball. When they finally caught Trouble, Wally said, “I’ve suggestion. Why don’t you take Trouble for a walk, Beaver?”
Beaver took Trouble for another walk bye the old warehouse. Suddenly Trouble started sniffing. Then he jumped up and licked the face of the old watchman, dozing the sunshine outside the building.
The watchman landed with a bump on the pavement. He shook his fist angrily at Beaver.
But a second later, the watchman’s anger vanished as he saw Trouble sniffing the air.
“Your dog smells smoke,” the watchman said.
“And so do I!”
“Come on!” said Beaver to Trouble.
They ran down to the fire house at the other end of the street. Beaver rushed up to the fire chief and told him about the burning warehouse.
In no time at all, firemen came sliding down the brass pole. Quickly, they put on their slickers, rubber boots and fire hats. Then they jumped onto the fire engine.
With bell clanging and siren blowing, the fire engine roared out of the fire house, down to the street toward the fire.
Trouble was barking furiously and tugging at his leash. Beaver said, “I wish we could go to the fire, but a promise is a promise!”
Suddenly, Trouble yanked the leash out of Beaver’s hand and dashed after the fire engine.
The next second, Beaver was tearing after him.
“Dad won’t like this,” panted Beaver.
Flames were leaping up and burning the old warehouse as the firemen unrolled the fire hose. As Beaver ran after Trouble he bumped into a policeman blocking his path.
“That’s my dog, I mean Uncle Conrad’s dog,” said Beaver.
“I don’t care whose dog it is,” said the policeman. “Stand back, son!”
But when Trouble get tangled in the fire hose, the fire chief spoke to the policeman and the policeman spoke to Beaver.
“Call of your dog,” said the policeman. “The fire chief say he’s getting in the way.”
While the firemen were busy spraying water on the blazing warehouse, Beaver ran around in circles trying to grab Trouble’s leash.
By the time Beaver caught Trouble, the fire was out. And Trouble was covered with soot and dirt.
“What am I going to tell Dad?” wondered Beaver.
When Beaver got home, no one was in sight. Quietly, he took Trouble into the house by the back door. Quietly, they went up the stairs to the bathroom.
Then Beaver gave Trouble a bath. He scrubbed him hard with a brush and plenty of soap.
A minute later, he heard his mother’s voice.
“Beaver? Will you please come downstairs!”
Beaver’s mother, father and brother Wally, were in the living room. Someone else was there too, the fire chief.
“Well, Beaver,” said the fire chief. “I’ve been telling your family about your good work in reporting the fire.”
He shook hands with Beaver. “Are you going to be a fireman when you grow up?”
“No, sir,” said Beaver. “I’m not allowed to go to fires!”
After the fire chief left, Beaver went out to play with Trouble.
“You know,” said Mr Cleaver, “I think Beaver is growing up. Maybe he won’t be getting into so much trouble any more.”
“Maybe,” said Mrs Cleaver. “But right now, he and the dog are digging up the beans you planted the other day.”
“My beans!” said Mr Cleaver. And he dashed out of the house.
“Leave it to Beaver!” Mrs Cleaver sighed.
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