Trouble seemed to be a daily problem for Harper, until her mom bought a trumpet and gave it to her. Harper took to blowing the trumpet even better than she liked tromping through snow. She practices everyday and has become quite good at playing her shiny instrument.

Harper told some of her friends about her trumpet playing, and a few of them convinced their moms to get them instruments too. Now Harper has a band. They’re called The Wagging Tails. The band consists of a German Shepherd named Rin, who plays base guitar, a Golden Retriever named Trixie, who plays acoustic guitar, Harper on trumpet, and a yellow Labrador Retriever named Maurice, who plays drums. They get together at Maurice’s house twice a week for two hours. They spend the first hour writing songs and the second hour playing.

When they started playing in Maurice’s mom’s garage, the neighbors complained and howled, but as the band’s talents began to shine through, a crowd started gathering in the driveway to listen and dance. Now the band is the talk of Lancaster County and parents book The Wagging Tails to play at their childrens’ birthday parties.

Harper’s cousin, Louie, got jealous, but Harper said, “You get to go hunting with your dad to burn off your energy, so what do you have to be jealous of?”

“I don’t have any shiny instruments or toys to use to go hunting. I just wear a bright orange vest and tramp through the fields and woods. But it is exciting when I flush a rabbit out of its hole and Dad shoots it.” Louie said, with a grin.

Harper rolled her eyes. “I’ll take playing music and watching people dance over luring a rabbit to its demise anyday. My band’s music makes people happy. I like looking around the crowd at all their smiling faces.”

Her bandmates all barked their agreement. Harper’s dream is that the above painting of The Wagging Tails will one day be more popular than that old photo of all those dogs playing poker.

NOTE: This story is a work of fiction. Though some of the characters are real animals, names, characters, and incidents in this story are products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious situation. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, incidents, animals, or persons — living or dead — are coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.