CHAPTER 9 — RED!

The twins and Choosy Chicken resumed their journey. They passed a few isolated farm houses and rolling meadows where cows were grazing. After a while they stopped by a small stream for a drink of cool water and a rest.
Suddenly the twins were attracted by a strong, multicolored light on the road ahead of them. It grew brighter and brighter and was clearly coming their way. The twins covered their eyes against the glare as the beam came closer. When the light faded and the twins uncovered their eyes, a beautiful red Irish setter was standing on the grass beside the road in the very spot where the light had been.
The dog barked happily, then ran right to Tommy and jumped up on his shoulders, knocking him down.
“Whoa!” Tommy laughed helplessly, trying to push the big, furry body away. The dog licked his face in great big, happy slurps. “Cut that out!” he called, laughing at the same time. Tommy scrambled to his feet and wiped his face on his sleeve. As he did so, the dog leaped toward him.
“Down, boy, down! Sit!” called Tommy.
Amazingly, the dog sat down. He looked at Tommy eagerly, his tongue hanging out. He wagged his tail so hard his whole body shook.
“Good dog!” said Tommy. “Gosh, I wonder who you belong to?” He felt the dog’s neck. “Hmmm. No collar.”
“Maybe he’s lost,” ventured Tammy, feeling a little left out. The dog hadn’t even glanced her way.
“Why does Tommy have all the luck?” she said to herself
“He looks a lot like Carl Terwilliger’s dog, and I’ll bet his name is Red, too,” Tommy said, rubbing the smooth copper-bright coat.
At the sound of the name, the dog barked twice in rapid succession and sat up on his hind legs.
Tommy laughed. “See that? He knows his name. Come on, Red. Let’s play fetch.” Tommy picked up a stick and tossed it over Red’s head.
Red dashed after it, scooped it up in his mouth as one end of it bounced off the ground, then he brought it back and laid it right at Tommy’s feet. He barked and pranced about, clearly eager for Tommy to throw it again.
“Good boy!” Tommy praised him. “Gosh, this is great. I’ve always wanted a dog like you.”
Tommy threw the stick farther than before and yelled, “Go get it, Red!” and the dog bounded after it.
When Tammy saw the huge grin on Tommy’s face, she called, “Come on, Tommy,” in a tight little voice. Inside, her thoughts were mixed-up. She, too, had often dreamed of having a dog, but she didn’t like being ignored.
“We’d better get going,” she called.
Tommy looked around and noticed that Choosy Chicken was resting against the base of a tree with her eyes closed. “Aw, we’ve got plenty of time. What’s the big rush?” he asked. “Besides, I want to play with Red awhile.”
With that, Tommy raced off to join the dog. “Here, Red. Here, boy!” he called, and Red loped toward him carrying the stick.
Tammy watched them playing and rolling in the grass for a few moments, then she turned away. “All right,” she grumbled angrily to herself. “Go play with that stupid dog. See if I care. I’ll just start on home by myself!”
Choosy Chicken opened her eyes and clucked in alarm, but Tammy ignored her. She flounced down the road, half expecting Tommy to call her back. When he didn’t, she clenched her fists and walked even faster. There was a hard lump of misery in her chest. “I’ll show him,” she muttered to herself. “He thinks more of a stray mutt than his own sister. I’ll show him. He probably doesn’t even know I’m gone. And he probably doesn’t care, either. But sooner or later he’ll be sorry.”
After a while the path Tammy was following entered a deep, dark forest, but she was too wrapped up in her own misery to even notice.
“Tam-meee! Tammy, where are you?” Tommy’s puzzled voice sounded faint and far away.
With a flutter of panic Tammy ran off the path and deeper into the woods. She crouched down behind a large tree and waited. “I’ll show him,” she thought again. “When he can’t find me he’ll be sorry!”
“Tam-mee! Answer me! Where are you? Tammy!” Tommy’s voice was much closer now, and he sounded frantic. Tammy could hear Red whining and sniffing along the ground. Then, all of a sudden, he began barking and growling and jumping around, as though he’d suddenly gone wild.
“What is it, boy?” asked Tommy anxiously. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“Woof!” Red barked. Then he bounded into the woods with Tommy close on his heels.
After a brief run with his nose close to the ground, Red discovered Tammy’s hiding place behind the tree. He gave a joyful bark and pressed against her, sniffing and licking at her everywhere he could reach, and nearly crushing her against the tree in his eagerness.
“Hey,” Tammy cried in delight, alternately patting Red and hugging his wriggling body, “he likes me.”
“Silly, of course he likes you,” Tommy said. “Whatever made you think he didn’t?” Tommy looked around, perplexed. “And what are you doing here all by yourself?”
“Oh, uh — nothing,” Tammy said lamely, unable to meet Tommy’s eyes. She thought about what she had been feeling, and she was too ashamed to admit how foolish she had been.
“Well, come on. We’ve got a long way to go. And maybe Red can come, too,” said Tommy, and he glanced toward Choosy Chicken as she pranced up close to them. He smiled when she nodded in reply.
They made their way out of the woods and together the four of them started down the road. Nobody said a word for some time. Tammy once again felt a hard little lump in her throat, and it seemed to be growing bigger and bigger. She wondered, “Why on earth did I act the way I did?”
After a while Choosy Chicken started humming softly to herself, then she said, “I think this would be a good time for me to teach you a little song. How about it?” She glanced toward Tommy, then looked steadily at Tammy.
“Sure,” the twins answered in unison. Red gave two happy barks as his answer. And the twins laughed together.
“All right. Here it is. It’s called ‘OK or OD.’” And Choosy cleared her throat noisily.
“Listen especially to the first two lines,” she directed, “I’ll sing them twice, and the second time you try them along with me. Then when I wave my wings at the end, sing them with me once again. OK?” At that she began to sing in a raspy voice to the tune of The Battle Hymn of the Republic, but with some of the words carrying two notes.

Our choices can be either OK or OD.
When we make OK choices, then we live happily.

She repeated the lines and the twins sang along with her, each frowning a bit because they weren’t sure what OD meant. Then Choosy continued singing and they got their answer.

OK is all right; it’s acceptable, good,
Or being as helpful as anyone could.
OD is too much, overdose, overdone.
It’s thoughtless and it’s selfish and it hurts everyone.

Choosy Chicken waved her wings, and the twins joined her in a repeat of the first two lines, this time with a smile:

Our choices can be either OK or OD.
When we make OK choices, then we live happily.

“Now, join me in the chorus with the words, ‘Glory, glory, halleluia,’ three times, then we end with the second line only, ‘When we make OK choices, then we live happily,’” she said. With that, she waved her arms, and they all sang:

Glory, glory, halleluia. Glory, glory, halleluia.
Glory, glory, halleluia.
When we make OK choices, then we live happily.

They sang the song through twice more with all three smiling each time they finished the song. Then Tammy’s eyes filled up with tears, and she stood still for a moment, biting her lip. Suddenly, she turned toward her brother and gave him a quick hug, and she reached down to pet Red who was standing close beside them.
“What was that for?” asked Tommy, looking at his sister as though she might have grown another head.
“Oh . . ., nothing,” Tammy answered, and she shrugged her shoulders, thrust her hands in the pockets of her jeans and kicked at a pebble on the road. “I just felt like doing it, that’s all. No big deal.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Tammy glanced at Choosy Chicken and saw that the strange-looking bird was smiling at her. She smiled back.
And, just like that, the hard lump of misery was gone.

Chapter 9 — THE BIG IDEA

For Chapter 9 the Big Idea is: We make some choices that are OK and some that are OD.

In Chapter 9, Tammy becomes jealous when Red, the Irish setter, joins the group and pays attention just to Tommy. Tammy makes some overdone or OD choices — for example, running off in the woods and hiding. After Tammy gets over her jealousy, Choosy Chicken teaches the twins a song called OK or OD, that says in part, “Our choices can be either OK or OD. When we make OK choices, then we live happily.” Are you a person who makes lots of OK choices, or might you make too many that are OD?

Think about this idea and figure out how you can use it to make your life better.

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