The Pup Who Loved Lemonade

Chapter--1---The Sour Surprise:

The sun was already dripping gold on the walkway like melted butter on the first official day of summer. Children laughed as they raced barefoot through sprinklers as birds sang from the maple trees that bordered Oak Street.

A tiny beagle named Lenny sat in the midst of all the activity.

Lenny was an inquisitive puppy with a twitchy nose, floppy ears, and one peculiar obsession: lemonade. Not chasing his tail, not balls, not bones. Lemonade.

It all began when Ellie, the neighbor's kid, licked her cup with him one day last summer.

His tongue was exploding with the cool, sweet-sour zing.

That was when Lenny got addicted.

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Chapter -2-- Lemonade Operation:

Lenny had a goal this summer.

He would discover the town's best lemonade.

Not any lemonade, though. The ideal lemonade.

Lenny put on his homemade "Lemon Tracker" collar, which was a cardboard circle with a lemon slice drawn in the center, and trotted out, tail wagging, early that morning as Ellie set up her lemonade shop beneath a large pink umbrella.

Molly and Max, twins, owned the first stand he smelled out. They added pink glitter and sprinkles to their lemonade.

He took a sip.

Too upscale. He gave two sneezes and continued to trot.

Then he went to see Benny the basketball player. There were basketball-shaped ice chunks in his lemonade.

Lenny gave it a lap.

Too athletic. Not enough zest.

Grandma Nina's stand followed. Hers was honey-based and delicious.

Lenny barking respectfully.

Tasty, but too serene. He needed that eye-squinting magic he remembered from last year, along with zest and sparkle.

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Chapter-3-- The Map of Lemons:

Lenny had experimented with eight different stances by mid-afternoon. His dream was empty, but his stomach was full.

He padded to the park and collapsed on the grass, exhausted. The heat had caused his Lemon Tracker collar to wilt. He lowered his ears.

Was the ideal lemonade a thing of the past?

Then a shadow passed over him.

It was the astute corgi from the next block, Penny.

"The word is, you're on a lemonade hunt," she grinned.

Lenny became alert.

She muttered, "I have a map," and produced a chart drawn with a crayon. Although it only opens once a year, "X marks" has the best lemon stand in town. Right before dusk.

Lenny had a gleam in her eyes. "Come on!"

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Chapter-4-- The Unspoken Position:

Penny and Lenny traced the map over fences and down alleys. They went by bikes that zoomed and dogs that barked. They arrived in a tiny cul-de-sac that no one ever went to as the sun sank, bathing the rooftops in golden light.

And there it was.

A small wooden stand for lemonade, softly lit with fairy lights. A sign that was hand-painted said:

"Zara's Zesty Lemonade – One Day Only"

A girl with a lemon hat and wild curly hair was standing behind the stand.

She gave them a smile.

She poured the golden liquid into a little bowl that was paw-friendly and stated, "One cup per pup."

Lenny took a whiff. It had a slight mint flavor, was zesty, frosty, and slightly sweet. Slowly, he lapped it up.

His gaze expanded. He waggled his tail so quickly that it was blurry.

This was it.

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Chapter-5-- The Legacy of Lemonade:

Zara laughed. It's my grandmother's trade secret. Only on the longest day of summer do we sell it.

Lenny gave a grateful bark.

Penny nudged playfully. "Did you find what you were searching for?"

Lenny gazed up at the stars that were starting to blink in the sky as he licked the last of the drops from the bowl.

Indeed. He had.

Lenny went back to Ellie's house that evening as the town was peaceful and the darkness was illuminated by fireflies. She slept on her chair, still standing.

Summer joyous and lemon-satisfied, he nestled up next to her.

And right before he went to sleep, he thought about the next summer adventure that was just waiting to be drank, not simply about lemonade.