Friendship According to Humphrey Read Online Free Page A

was Miranda’s turn to clean my cage. She always does an extra-good job of cleaning my potty corner and changing my water and bedding. And she always has a special treat for me, like a piece of cauliflower. Yum.
    “Sorry, Humphrey. I tried to write a poem about you,” she told me. “I think I’m going to have to write about Clem instead.”
    Clem was Miranda’s dog, the one who tried to eat me when I stayed at her house. How Golden-Miranda could put up with Clem was beyond me.
    That night, I wrote my very first poem ever. I asked Og if he wanted to hear it. His silence wasn’t too encouraging, but I decided to read it anyway.
     
    When Ms. Mac left me for Brazil,
She made me SAD-SAD-SAD.
     
     
    When Clem the dog was mean to me,
I felt real MAD-MAD-MAD.
     
    Now Og’s moved in and he has got me
Feeling BAD-BAD-BAD.
     
    In fact, this is the worst week
I ever HAD-HAD-HAD!
     
     
    I waited to hear Og applaud or at least give me a grudging “Boing.” I heard only silence. When I glanced over at my neighbor, he was grinning from ear to ear. Or he would have been if he had ears. Somehow, his smile didn’t cheer me up at all.
    I felt better the following day, though, because it was Friday. That meant I would get a little break from Room 26 and the green and grumpy lump. Every weekend, a different student took me home, and I’d had many wonderful adventures with my classmates and their families. I’d even gone home with Principal Morales!
    This week, I was going home with Wait-For-The-Bell-Garth Tugwell. He’d wanted to take me home for a long time.
    “Can I take Og home, too?” asked Garth.
    “I think Og can stay here,” Mrs. Brisbane answered. “Frogs don’t need to eat every day, except when they’re young.”
    Funny, I didn’t feel quite so sad-mad-bad anymore.
     
    “Can’t your mom pick us up?” A.J. asked Garth after school.
    I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him as we waited outside for the bus. I had a blanket over my cage because it was cold outside. I didn’t mind, though, as long as I was FAR-FAR-FAR away from Og. (Who hadn’t even tried to say “good-bye” to me.)
    “My dad said not to bother her. She’s been sick,” said Garth. “Couldn’t your mom pick us up?”
    “I wish.” A.J. sighed. “She has to pick up my sister from kindergarten and put the baby down for a nap.”
    “Did you tell your folks about Bean?” asked Garth.
    At least I thought he said “Bean.” Things sounded a little muffled under the blanket.
    “Naw,” said A.J. “Last time I said somebody was picking on me, my dad signed me up for boxing lessons. I hated people punching me. It was worse than being picked on.”
    I tried to sort out what A.J. meant about getting picked on. By a bean? By a boxing bean? I didn’t have time to figure it out before the bus arrived.
    “Here goes,” said Garth, lifting my cage. “Let’s stick together, no matter what.”
    “Okay. Be sure to sit in front by Miss Victoria,” whispered A.J. “That’s the safest.”
    By the shuffling and scuffling sounds, I could tell that we were on the bus. Luckily, a corner of the blanket slipped down and I could see Miss Victoria, the bus driver, glancing over her shoulder.
    “Keep moving, guys,” she said in a firm voice. “Whoa, ladies, one of you has to go. Can’t have three in a seat.” Three first-grade girls were huddled together in the seat right behind the bus driver. “We’re not moving until one of you goes. You move, Beth.”
    The girl on the end timidly got up and started down the aisle, nervously looking back at her friends.
    “Keep going, folks,” Miss Victoria snapped.
    Suddenly—BOOM! The girl named Beth fell down flat on the floor right in front of us. Her books slid around the floor in all directions.
    The bus was quiet as Beth lay there until somebody said, “Hey, klutz, you dropped something!” That was followed by a nasty snicker.
    “You tripped her,” said A.J. in a voice not quite as loud