Poodle Head

Poodle Head
By Heather Leigh
Illustrated by Judy Ziegler



Waking up that morning, Dustin felt something on his head.

“Ehhh!” cried Dustin, “Poodle Head!”

He shook his head, jumped up and down, and pushed it, but the poodle only clamped on

tighter. It would not come off.

“Poodle Head! Gross!” said his sister at breakfast.

The poodle growled at her.

“Dustin, control your poodle,” said his mother.

At Dustin’s soccer game, he tried to head butt the ball but the poodle bit it.

“Get that Poodle Head kid off the field!” someone yelled.

Dustin was sent home.

“I have got to rid of this Poodle Head,” thought Dustin.

He asked the poodle very nicely to leave, but it walked in a circle and nestled in

more firmly.

It turned up it’s nose at dog treats.

Dustin walked to the window and looked out. What was he going to do? He couldn’t go

to school, he couldn’t play soccer, and no one wants to hang out with Poodle Head kids.

Then he saw his swimming pool. Poodle Head poodles hate the water. He went to the

backyard and stood in front of the pool.

“I’m going in,” he told the poodle.

The poodle stood up.

Dustin stepped into the pool.

“Grrr,” the poodle whimpered.

Dustin walked down the steps.

“Arrfff?” the poodle said.

Dustin swam to the deep end.

Just before Dustin ducked his head underwater, the poodle jumped off Dustin’s head,

swam to the edge, and got out.

“No more Poodle Head!” cried Dustin.

The poodle shook out his fur, glared at Dustin, and ran off.

“Don’t mess with me or my family, again,” called out Dustin.

But the next morning, Dustin woke to hear, “Ehhh!”

Judy Hootie

Judy Hootie
By Heather Leigh
Illustrated by Judy Ziegler

Before first recess, Judy Hootie had knocked over two jars of paints, fell onto the hamster cage, and spilled water on the teacher’s desk.
“Judy Hootie, please keep still,” the teacher said, “or I’ll have to send you to the principal’s office.”
So Judy kept very still in her seat.
As she was sitting, keeping very still, she noticed that her pencil was keeping VERY still. She felt bad for her pencil, having to keep so very still. Keeping still was boring. She decided to let it move—just like she wanted to move.




She used the pencil to draw a picture of the teacher with sharp teeth, a fat nose and wicked eyes.
Judy was so intent on moving her pencil that she didn’t notice when the teacher came and stood beside her.
“Judy Hootie, please see me after class,” said the teacher.
Judy jumped in her seat. Having to see the teacher after class could only mean one thing: TROUBLE--even worse than seeing the principal trouble.
For the rest of the day, she kept very still.
After school, when all the other kids had bounded out of the classroom, Judy stayed in her seat.
“Judy Hootie, please come here,” said the teacher. “And bring your picture.”





Judy slunk to the teacher’s desk.
“Was that picture you drew supposed to be me?” asked the teacher.
“Yes,” Judy whispered.
The teacher opened her desk. Judy thought she was going to get a ruler to whap her knuckles with. She had heard teachers once did that.
Instead, the teacher put one dollar on the desk.
“If I pay you one dollar, will you draw another picture of me?” asked the teacher. “You’re a very good artist, Judy Hootie.”
Judy was very still.
“Please?” asked her teacher.



Judy ran back to her desk to get a piece of paper and her pencil.
“I’ll make you look nice in this picture,” Judy said.
She drew a picture of her teacher’s wavy hair, big smile, and pretty eyes.
And only her pencil moved.