The Wet Footprints

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On Monday afternoon, Jess and her friend Omar were at the indoor pool for swimming practice. When they arrived, the lifeguard, Mr. Ruiz, was walking around the locker room with a worried face. "Someone took my lunch," he said. "It was a big cheese sandwich, and I left it on the bench."

"We can find it," said Omar. Jess was already looking at the floor. There were wet footprints on the tiles, small and round, and they led from the bench to the back of the room. "Somebody with small feet went this way," she said. "Maybe a child?" "A child wouldn't steal a sandwich from a lifeguard," said Omar.

They followed the footprints. Near the last locker, they found some crumbs, and a little yellow dot on the floor. Jess touched it with her finger. "It's mustard," she said. Next to the crumbs, there was a tennis ball, also wet. "Why is there a tennis ball in a locker room?" asked Omar.

Jess looked at the locker. The door was open, and inside there was an old blue blanket. "Mr. Ruiz, does somebody sleep here?" she asked. "Nobody," said the lifeguard. "But Bruno, my dog, sleeps in the staff room when I work. I wash his blanket every week."

"Where is Bruno now?" asked Omar. The three of them listened. From behind the benches, they heard a soft, happy noise. They looked. There was a big brown dog, wet from his nose to his tail. He had a little piece of cheese on his whiskers. Next to him was an empty plastic bag.

"He always jumps in the pool after his ball," said Mr. Ruiz. "The footprints weren't small feet," said Jess. "They were paws!" Mr. Ruiz laughed and shook his head. "Bruno, I love you, but tomorrow I'm bringing two sandwiches." Bruno wagged his tail, and the wet tennis ball rolled across the floor.