Lady and the Tramp Live Action Junior Novel Read online

  Copyright © 2020 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1200 Grand Central Avenue, Glendale, California 91201.

  ISBN: 978-1-368-06152-0

  Visit www.disneybooks.com

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Images from the Film

  In the lovely little home Jim Dear and Darling called their own, the world was cozy, small, and safe. Their street was always quiet, the houses perfectly painted, the lawns well kept. Every morning, neighbors greeted Jim Dear with happy waves as he walked to retrieve his paper. Every evening, as he and his wife strolled down the tree-lined sidewalk, they heard the happy sounds of children playing or the occasional friendly bark of a dog. Not a thing was out of place. It was perfect.

  Well, almost perfect.

  One evening, as snow began to fall outside, Darling sat on the floor by a roaring fire. Over her, their Christmas tree sparkled and twinkled, the ornaments catching the firelight. Darling was happy. She loved her husband with all her heart. She loved their home and every piece of furniture and knickknack they had collected together. The end of the year and the holidays made her all the more grateful for everything she had. Sighing happily, she closed her eyes.

  Hearing footsteps, Darling started to open them again.

  “Keep them closed!” Jim Dear said. “Keep them closed.…Okay, you can open them.”

  Peeking with one eye, Darling cocked her head. Jim Dear held a hatbox. His usually pale cheeks were rosy from the cold, and his hair, typically brushed back off his face in the tidy style of the day, was messy. Her husband was a musician and had the soul of a poet, but he tried hard to look dapper.

  “You think I need another hat?” she asked playfully.

  Jim Dear shook his head. Gently, he placed the hatbox on the floor. “Guess again,” he said.

  Just then, the box moved and made a rustling sound. Darling sat up straighter, her eyes widening. She got to her knees and carefully removed the lid from the box. Brushing away a layer of soft tissue paper, she let out a happy squeal as two big brown eyes appeared. It was a puppy! Darling reached in and lifted the puppy from the box. The cocker spaniel was adorable, with long, wavy brown ears and a brown-and-white body. She wiggled excitedly in Darling’s hands.

  “Well, Darling?”

  Darling looked up at her husband and then back down at the puppy. “She’s perfect,” Darling cooed. “A perfect little lady.”

  At the word, the puppy’s tail wagged even faster. Lady had found a home.

  When Lady had been put in the hatbox, it had scared her at first. But as soon as she had locked eyes with the kind woman who had opened it, she had felt safe—and loved. For the rest of the evening, she sat in the woman’s lap while the woman—who smelled of lavender and honey—gently rubbed Lady’s belly and gave her kisses. Lady had discovered that her new humans were named Darling and Jim Dear and that they loved each other—and her—very, very much.

  Only now Darling and Jim Dear seemed to be leaving her. The moon had come out and the stars were twinkling in the sky, so Lady knew it was night. But she wasn’t sure why that meant she had to leave her new family. As they put a big dog bed down in the middle of the pantry, Lady wiggled in Darling’s arms. “There, there, Lady,” Darling said. Lady knew she was trying to make her feel better, but she didn’t like the looks of the pantry door.

  A moment later, Jim Dear put a few pieces of newspaper down and gave her a pat on the head, and then they turned and left. The door shut behind them.

  Lady was alone.

  She stood still for a moment, looking from the bed to the newspaper to the heavy door. Letting out a little yip, she rushed at the paper and grabbed it between her teeth, shaking it. A puppy growl formed in the back of her throat. The noise she made startled her, and Lady dropped the paper.

  She moved to the door and shoved her nose against it. It didn’t budge. She pushed again. This time the door swung a little bit. She pushed again and again until the door swung wide enough that she could slip through, out of the pantry. Wandering the house, she sniffed and nosed a pair of shoes on the floor. She hopped over a guitar, then finally, she made it to the stairs.

  Lady looked up. The stairs were long. She hadn’t noticed that before. But she had to get up them. At the top were Darling and Jim Dear.

  Taking a deep breath, Lady put both her front paws on the bottom stair. Then she pushed off with her back paws. She hung for a moment and then fell back to the floor. She wagged her puppy tail and tried again. She made it! Step by step, Lady worked her way to the top. By the time she reached the landing, she was out of breath.

  She had not been upstairs before. The hallway was dark and narrow, with several doors. Putting her nose to the ground, Lady followed the smell of lavender. Walking through an open door, she saw Darling and Jim Dear asleep on a bed. She made her way to it and jumped up, then flopped down on Darling’s stomach.

  Murmuring, Darling rolled over, the movement landing Lady right atop Jim Dear’s face. Startled, the man woke up. Seeing Lady, he sighed. But he did not, as she’d feared, take her back downstairs. Instead, he arranged a makeshift bed on the floor. He placed her down on it and crawled back into bed.

  Lady waited a moment, then jumped off her bed and back onto the humans’ bed. It was much more comfortable. Darling wrapped her arms around Lady and pulled her close.

  Next to her, Jim Dear sighed again. “All right,” he said, his voice heavy with sleep. “Just for one night.”

  Lady wiggled happily, pushing her body as close to Darling as she could. She closed her eyes. She didn’t know what a Christmas miracle was, exactly, but Darling had called her one several times. Whatever it was, she was glad she was one.

  Lady’s one night turned into two. And then two more and then two more. Soon six months had passed, and Lady was as much at home in the bed and house as Jim Dear and Darling.

  Her life had taken on a lovely routine. In the morning she collected the paper from the end of the walk and promptly returned it to Darling. After a quick breakfast, Lady and Jim Dear took a stroll down the tree-lined street. If Jim Dear happened to forget, Lady had no problem reminding him. Leash in her mouth, she gave a quick bark and a wag of her tail, and Jim Dear was on his feet and heading for the door.

  Afternoons were spent exploring the yard. There was always something to see—a butterfly floating through the air in a zigzag pattern, a newly blossomed flower. Most days Jim Dear took time to bring her a small round ball, which he threw to her endlessly. She loved that game—especially because whenever she brought the ball back, she got a happy “good girl, Lady.” Those were some of her favorite words.

  When evening came around and dinner was over, she, Darling, and Jim Dear curled up on the couch together while the humans read or listened to the radio. Lady fell asleep to Darling’s gentle touch as she gave her belly rubs, and to t
he sound of Darling’s soft voice as she told Jim Dear about her day.

  Life was perfect, just the three of them, with each of Lady’s days better than the last.

  “Have you ever seen such a perfect dog?”

  Lady sat in front of a long mirror, staring at her reflection. Behind her, Darling knelt down, a thin piece of leather in her hand.

  “No, I certainly haven’t,” Jim Dear replied.

  Lady wagged her tail. But when she looked up, she saw that Jim Dear wasn’t looking at her; he was looking at his wife. Lady smiled. Her humans loved each other so much.

  Returning Jim’s smile, Darling reached over and gently placed the leather collar around Lady’s neck. Lady had been waiting for an official collar ever since she arrived at her new home. She had been too small before, but now that she was nearly grown, it was time. The collar was perfect—thin and delicate, just right for her little body. Lady’s eyes widened as she saw what was dangling from it: a small gold heart. Across the heart, “Lady” was written in elegant script.

  Lady had never before seen anything quite as beautiful. Her tail wagged and her backside nearly lifted off the ground. She was too excited to sit still!

  Sensing the dog’s eagerness, Darling smiled and gave Lady a quick pat on the head. “Why don’t you go show Jock and Trusty?” she said.

  Lady didn’t need to be told twice. She leaped up and raced out of the room, through the doggy door in the kitchen, and out toward the backyard. Her steps slowed as she approached the back porch. Milk and eggs from the day’s delivery were splattered across the wood. Lady’s eyes narrowed. Putting her nose to the ground, she began to sniff, trying to figure out who had done such a thing. Then she saw them: footprints. And not just any footprints! The rat was back.

  Following the prints along the side of the house, she kept her eyes peeled. Just as she arrived at the end of the porch, she spotted the rat. Its beady eyes stared back at her, and then, baring its teeth and hissing, it leaped off the porch and raced across the lawn toward the fence that separated Lady’s yard from the neighbors’.

  Lady barked and gave chase. Reaching the fence, the ugly little creature dove through a hole and disappeared on the other side. Lady barked one last time, and then, satisfied with her job of protecting her house, she turned and trotted toward the front yard.

  Lying on his porch next door, taking a long afternoon nap, was Trusty. The bloodhound was old, his red coat flecked with gray, his drooping ears no longer as keen as they had once been. But he was one of Lady’s best friends, and she adored him.

  “Trusty! Guess what!” Lady said, walking toward him. Without the humans around, she and her friends could talk openly. “I just came so close to catching the rat. You should’ve seen it!”

  “Rat?” Trusty said, waking with a start. He looked around for a moment, his eyes heavy. “Where?” Lifting his nose in the air, he took a big sniff. Then he struggled to his feet and made his way off the porch, following a scent he clearly couldn’t find.

  Lady laughed. Trusty’s days of being a police dog were long over, but that didn’t stop him from thinking he was at the top of his game. “No, no, no,” she said. “It’s gone. I just gave it a good scare.”

  The older dog relaxed. “Ah, well done,” he said with a nod of his big head. “Haven’t smelled one of those vile vermin in a while. Reminds me of my early days on the force. Barely grown into my paws—”

  “Trusty,” Lady interrupted. She knew what would happen if he started down memory lane. “You think you can sniff out what’s different about me today?” To give him a clue, she lifted her chin so that her neck was more exposed. Then she shook her head, causing the tag to twinkle.

  The bloodhound was immediately on the alert. “Detective work!” he said happily. “My specialty. I may be retired, but ol’ reliable here sure ain’t.” He gestured to his nose. Trusty moved closer to Lady. He sniffed the top of her head, her ears, even her neck. But he clearly didn’t pick up the scent.

  “New collar!” someone called out.

  Turning, Lady saw her friend Jock coming from the other side of the lawn. The Scottish terrier was, as usual, dressed up. Jock’s human loved to put the little black dog in outfits and then take her portrait. That day she wore an argyle sweater.

  Prancing over, Jock nodded at Lady’s neck. “A gold heart,” she said. She sounded impressed. “Must mean they really love you. They want to show you off on walks. Make way for Lady, walking royalty.”

  “I’m hardly royalty,” Lady protested weakly. Darling and Jim Dear did treat her very well.

  Trusty stepped closer and jingled the tag. “That there’s a badge of honor,” he said in his slow, deep voice. “Not like my actual badge of honor from the boys in blue.” His eyes glazed over as he began to tell Lady and Jock a story about his early days on the force. Lady and Jock shared a look. They had heard this one before—many, many times. But neither of them had the heart to tell Trusty to stop.

  When his story was finally over, Trusty sniffed the air. “You smell that?” he asked. “I reckon that infernal rat may be back. I’ll secure the perimeter. Y’all stay here where it’s safe.” Orders given, Trusty ambled off.

  Just then, Stephanie, Jock’s human, walked out onto the porch of her house. She held a black-and-white striped shirt and a doggy beret. “I’ve gotta go,” Jock said. “It’s portrait time!” She started to trot off but stopped and looked back at Lady. “Congrats on the collar. Seems like your family’s just about perfect.”

  Lady nodded. Jock was right. Her family really was perfect.

  Nothing could ruin that.

  But later that night, as Lady sat on the couch between Darling and Jim Dear, she noticed something strange. When Darling said, “This is nice,” which was what she usually said as they sat together, Jim Dear didn’t pet Lady, which was what he usually did when Darling said that. Instead, he reached over and gently placed his hand on Darling’s stomach.

  “It sure is,” he answered. Lady watched, confused. His hand didn’t leave Darling’s stomach, which Lady suddenly noticed seemed a bit larger than usual.

  What could that mean? Lady wondered.

  In the train yard, things were bustling. Trains hissed with steam, and brakes screeched. As workers shoveled coal into the beds of various train cars, dark soot lifted into the air. A bit farther down the yard, men slammed large hammers onto metal, shaping it into rails. It was noisy, dirty, and hot—a far cry from the peace and quiet of the tree-lined street where Lady lived.

  In an abandoned train car in the middle of the yard, Tramp slept, not bothered by the noise or the trash that lined the floor. Tramp was considered a mutt—a mix of different dog breeds—and this was his home. He lived wild and free—no collar to keep him restrained, no family to keep him trapped.

  Getting to his feet, Tramp stretched and let out a big yawn. He shook his shaggy gray coat and gave his ear a scratch. “Isn’t this the life?” he said to himself, genuinely happy.

  “Hey! No trespassing!”

  Hearing the loud, angry voice, Tramp looked toward the open door of the train car. A moment later the foreman’s face appeared. He pulled himself into the car.

  As the foreman stomped toward him, Tramp dodged out of the way. “Guess we’re starting early today,” he said to himself as he slipped out the door. Behind him, he heard muttering from the foreman and then the crunch of rocks as the big man jumped out of the car and gave chase.

  Tramp didn’t run out of fear. His stride stayed even. He had done this song and dance with the foreman before. It was almost a game at this point—like the game of fetch dogs with families played with their owners. Only in this case, Tramp was the ball and he was trying not to get caught.

  Leaping over a rail and through a train car, Tramp easily made his way through the yard. He knew where the best hiding spots were and which paths to take to avoid the unfriendly foreman. After years of making the train yard his home base, he was considered a local to the various worke
rs, too.

  Now, as he passed by a line of welders, masks down over their faces, he heard several of them call out in greeting. “Check it out! It’s Buddy!” one of them said.

  “Better speed up, pal,” another said, nodding at the foreman, who was gaining on the dog.

  Tramp picked up speed. He still wasn’t worried. He leaped over a thin trough and landed lightly on a narrow set of rails. Behind him he heard a splash and a shout as the foreman tried to follow and ended up falling in the muddy water next to the rails instead.

  Looking back, Tramp saw the stuck foreman. With a wag of his tail, Tramp turned and sauntered out of the train yard. The workers hooted and hollered. It didn’t matter how many mornings Tramp outsmarted the foreman; it made them smile every time. To the workers in the train yard, he was a hero.

  As Tramp made his way along the outskirts of the town, the sounds and smells of the train yard faded. He passed the docks, busy with workers preparing the riverboats that would cruise passengers up and down the shore, entertaining them with jazz music and plying them with delicious feasts. Workers waved and shouted hello. Tramp was a familiar sight everywhere he walked.

  Soon the gentle breeze from the river disappeared as Tramp entered the busier streets and alleys that made up the city center. Tramp didn’t like it there. Downtown meant more people, and that meant more people who might complain about a stray dog—which meant dogcatchers. And Tramp hated dogcatchers.

  Peering around a corner, Tramp scanned the square in front of him for any signs of danger. Spotting none, he slipped down the sidewalk and into the nearest alley. The dark, narrow space seemed empty. But Tramp knew better than to take any chances. This was Isaac’s alley. “Isaac?” Tramp called out. “Isaac! You here?” When no one responded, Tramp trotted farther into the alley.

  Following his nose, he made his way to a huge trash can. It was overflowing with delicious treasure—old bones, leftover food, sausage links. Tramp’s stomach growled. Jumping up, he grabbed a link of sausages in his mouth. He was just about to bite down when a low growl echoed through the alley.