Some dogs have a bark bigger than their bite. But Sweetie, The Great Dane, can't afford to bark -- or bite. After three little nips and three masters, the next stop is the pound. So when the burglar comes calling, he waves his tail. When coyotes come prowling, he tries to make peace -- as they howl in scorn. They promise they'll return -- to eat his food, his friends, Red the Irish Setter, Poky the Beagle, and Sweetie for dessert! If Sweetie can't protect them they'll all perish! How can he outfox twelve hungry coyotes? Grade 4-6?Wallace applies his love of animals and sense of humor to yet another successful story. Sweetie, a Great Dane, is on his third owner?his warm-hearted efforts at protection have been misinterpreted by his previous masters. Now he is paranoid about making a mistake for fear of being sent to the pound. Red and Poky, two neighboring dogs, listen to his story with empathy, offering him consolation and bolstering his self-esteem. All seems to be going smoothly until the coyotes arrive from the Arizona desert. They bully the three companions, stealing their food, sleeping in their dog houses, and threatening them with bodily harm. Sweetie takes charge and leads the dogs in training, which culminates in a final victory over the thieving scoundrels. Sweetie, Red, and Poky display their own distinct personalities through their dialogue and actions. The lively scenes depicted in the black-and-white illustrations reflect the upbeat tone of Wallace's writing. Using the popular theme of the weak overcoming the seemingly more powerful, the author has created a fast-paced, descriptive novel suitable for reading aloud or independently. Even reluctant readers will be tempted to finish this book.?Cheryl Cufari, N.A. Walbran Elementary School, Oriskany, NY Copyright 1995 Reed Business Information, Inc. Some dogs have a bark bigger than their bite. But Sweetie, The Great Dane, can't afford to bark -- or bite. After three little nips and three masters, the next stop is the pound. So when the burglar comes calling, he waves his tail. When coyotes come prowling, he tries to make peace -- as they howl in scorn. They promise they'll return -- to eat his food, his friends, Red the Irish Setter, Poky the Beagle, and Sweetie for dessert! If Sweetie can't protect them they'll all perish! How can he outfox twelve hungry coyotes? Bill Wallace (1947–2012) grew up in Oklahoma, where he and his friends rode horses, went fishing, and had campouts. His stories were inspired by these childhood adventures. Bill won nineteen children’s state awards and was awarded the Arrell Gibson Lifetime Achievement Award for Children’s Literature from the Oklahoma Center for the Book. Watchdog and the Coyotes By Bill Wallace Aladdin Copyright © 1995 Bill Wallace All right reserved. ISBN: 0671890751 Chapter 2 I m going straight to the pound," I whined. "This is it. There's nothing else left. I'm a goner." I paced up and down by the fence along my side yard. I didn't know what the pound was like, but I remember Scotty whining and crying when his master was about to take him there. I remember that I never saw him again. Whatever the pound was, it was bad. "This is it," I whimpered. "He's gone in to get my collar, and when he comes back out..." My tail tucked under my belly. My floppy ears drooped so low they almost dragged on the ground. "What are you whining about?" I jerked. The growl from the other side of the fence startled me. My droopy ears perked up. "Who's there?" "What are you whining about?" the voice repeated. It was Red, the Irish setter who lived in the yard next to mine. I'd never seen Red because of the wooden fence. In fact, this was the first time he'd ever talked to me in the whole two months since he had moved next door with his family. I'd tried to talk with him before, but he only snarled at me through the cracks between the fence boards. It was good to hear another voice. Besides, I was in so much trouble that I really needed someone to talk to, even if it was someone who only growled. I squinted, trying to see through one of the cracks. "I messed up," I told the fence. "I messed up bad, and I don't even know how it happened." Red hair and one white eyeball appeared at the crack. "I saw the cars with the red and blue lights on top last night," Red said. "The men in the blue uniforms kept going in and out of the house, and your master kept yelling. What did you do, get inside and tear the living room up or something?" "No!" I shook my head so hard my ears flopped against my cheeks. "I'm a watchdog. I don't go inside." "So what did you do?" "I did what I was supposed to do." I shrugged both ears. "I watched." Red growled, "Exactly what did you watch?" I folded my tail under my bottom and sat down. "Well," I began, staring at the eyeball. "Last night I was watching, just like I'm supposed to. A little while after dark, this man dressed all in black climbed over the back fence. He kept wig