Fireside Books: There's exciting news for book lovers. Fireside Books in Parksville now has a second location in Port Alberni. The BookWyrm - used books are just $5 or less. The BookWyrm, on the corner of Redford and Anderson, opens seven days a week from 10 to 5, building your personal library for less. Fireside Books at 464 Island Highway East in Parksville is a book dragon's dream come true. Browse their extensive collections seven days a week. Both locations make growing your personal library easier than ever. New and used books and so much more. Order online at firesidebooks.ca and pick up at either location. Details available online.

The Ballad of Peter & Gracie: Peter and his dog raced here and there, through fields so wide, with dreams in their pockets and stars as their guide. Every day's an adventure under the open sky. In their world of stories, time just flies by.

Peter McCully: Peter was seven years old, and he had a secret. It lived right in the front of his mouth. "Gracie, Gracie, come here," Peter called one sunny morning, kneeling down on the kitchen floor. Gracie came trotting over, her fluffy white fur bouncing like a cloud with legs. She was an American Eskimo Dog, and she was the fluffiest, whitest, happiest dog on the whole street.

Her tail curled up over her back like a question mark, and her pointy ears stood up tall whenever she heard something interesting. "Look," Peter said, and he opened his mouth wide. He pushed his tongue against his front tooth and it wiggled, just a little. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. Gracie tilted her head to one side.

Then she tilted it to the other side. She sniffed at Peter's chin, curious, and gave a small woof. "It's loose," Peter said. "My tooth is loose." He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Part of him was excited because losing a tooth meant you were growing up. His big sister had lost seven teeth already, and she always got to put them under her pillow.

But part of Peter was a little nervous, too. What if it hurt? What if it wiggled right out when he was eating breakfast or brushing his teeth, or worse, while he was talking to his teacher? Gracie didn't know any of that. All she knew was that Peter looked a little worried. And when Peter looked a little worried, Gracie's job was to sit very close to him and lean her warm, fluffy body against his leg.

So that's exactly what she did. "Thanks, Gracie," Peter said, scratching behind her soft ears. "You always know." Gracie had lived with Peter since he was a baby, and in all that time, she had never missed a wobble, a wiggle, or a worry. She was small enough to curl up in a laundry basket, but fluffy enough to look twice her size, with a smile that made everyone who saw her smile back.

Peter liked to say that Gracie wasn't just a dog. She was his very best helper. At breakfast, Peter pushed his tongue against the tooth again. Wiggle, wiggle. His mom noticed him poking at his mouth and smiled. "Is that your loose tooth I keep hearing about?" She asked. "It's really loose," Peter said. "Maybe the loosest tooth in the whole world."

"Well," said his mom, "when it's ready, it'll come out all on its own. You don't need to rush it." Peter nodded, but secretly he wondered if maybe he should rush it just a little. Under the table, Gracie rested her chin on his knee and looked up at him with her dark, round eyes, as if she were wondering the exact same thing.

After breakfast, Peter and Gracie went outside to the backyard. It was a bright, breezy morning, the kind where grass smelled green, and the clouds looked like they were racing each other across the sky. Peter threw Gracie's favourite ball, the squeaky yellow one, and Gracie zoomed after it, her white fur flying, her paws barely touching the ground.

She brought the ball back and dropped it at Peter's feet, her tail wagging so hard, her whole back end wiggled. "You know, you know," Peter said, picking up the ball, "you wiggle a lot, Gracie. Maybe you have a loose tooth too." Gracie just barked happily and spun in a circle, which was not really an answer, but Peter laughed anyway.

They played fetch until Peter was out of breath, and then they flopped down together in the shade of the big oak tree. Gracie curled up beside him, her fluffy sides rising and falling as she panted, and Peter lay back on the grass and wiggled his tooth some more. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. It moved a little more than it had that morning.

"I think it's getting looser," Peter told Gracie. Gracie thumped her tail against the grass. Thump, thump, thump. Like she agreed. That afternoon, Peter's mom cut up an apple for a snack. Peter looked at the apple slices and then touched his tooth with his finger. "I don't think I can bite an apple," he said. "What if my tooth comes out?"

"That would be all right," his mom said, "but if you're worried, you can eat around it or cut your bites smaller." Peter decided to eat around it, taking careful little bites on one side of his mouth where there was no wiggly tooth. Gracie sat right beside his chair, watching every bite with great interest, just in case a piece of apple happened to fall on the floor.

One did, and Gracie was very fast. Later, Peter's best friend from next door, a girl named Maya, came over to play. Peter showed her the wiggly tooth right away, tilting his head back and pointing into his open mouth. "Whoa," Maya said. "Does it hurt?" "Nope," Peter said proudly. "It just feels weird, like it doesn't know if it wants to stay or wants to go."

"When mine came out, I cried a little, but then I get a dollar from the Tooth Fairy, so it was worth it," Maya said. Peter looked down at Gracie, who was sitting between the two of them, her tail sweeping back and forth across the porch like a fluffy white broom. "I'm not going to cry," he said. "Gracie will be right here with me."

Maya reached down to pet Gracie's soft head. "She's a good helper dog." "The best," Peter agreed. That night, when Peter brushed his teeth before bed, he wiggled the tooth one more time in the mirror. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. It leaned a little to the side now, like a tiny leaning tower. "Good night, tooth," Peter whispered to his reflection.

"Don't fall out while I'm sleeping. I want to see it happen." Peter climbed into bed, and Gracie hopped up too, curling into a warm, fluffy circle by his feet the way she did every single night. Peter reached down and rested his hand on her soft fur. "Good night, Gracie." Gracie gave a sleepy sigh and closed her eyes.

Two days went by, and the tooth got looser and looser. By Thursday, it dangled just a tiny bit when Peter opened his mouth, and he could push it forward with his tongue until it almost, almost touched the tooth behind it. "Today's the day," Peter announced at breakfast. "I can feel it." He was right. That afternoon, Peter and Gracie were in the backyard again, playing their favourite game.

Peter would run in a big circle, and Gracie would chase him, her ears flat back until she caught up and gave him a happy little bark to say, "Tag, you're it. Now run." Then Peter would chase her instead, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. They'd been running and giggling and barking for a long time when Peter tripped, ever so gently, over a lump of grass.

He didn't fall hard, just a little stumble, a little bump onto his hands and knees in the soft grass. But when he sat up, something felt different in his mouth. He reached up with his fingers. His tooth was gone from where it used to be. It was sitting sideways, hanging on by just the tiniest little thread.

"Gracie," Peter whispered, his eyes wide. "Gracie, I think it's really, really ready." Gracie trotted over and sniffed his face, her nose twitching, her ears low with concern. Peter wasn't hurt. He wasn't crying. He was just very, very still, with his fingers near his mouth and his heart beating fast. "Should I pull it?"

He asked her. Gracie, of course, said nothing. She just sat down in front of him and waited, the way good dogs do. Peter took a deep breath. He wiggled the tooth one more time with his tongue, and this time it felt like it was barely attached at all, like a leaf hanging onto a branch on a windy day. He reached up with two fingers, and very gently, very carefully, he pulled.

Out it came, just like that. No big pain, no big fuss, just a tiny pinch, and then it was over. And there in Peter's hand was his very own tooth, small and white and a little bit pointy, with just the smallest speck of red at the bottom. "I did it," Peter shouted, jumping to his feet. "Gracie, I did it. Look." He held the tooth out to show her, and Gracie leaned in to sniff it, her tail wagging so fast it was almost a blur.

Then she barked, one happy, proud bark, and spun into a circle around Peter's legs, again and again, until he was laughing and spinning too. There was a tiny bit of blood on Peter's lip, and it felt strange to run his tongue over the new gap where the tooth used to be, but he wasn't scared anymore. He felt something new instead, proud.

They ran inside together, Peter holding his tooth high like a trophy, Gracie bounding along beside him. "Mom, Mom, it came out." His mom scooped him up in a big hug, tooth and all, and helped him rinse his mouth with water. She found a little plastic tooth-shaped box, the kind made just for this, and Peter placed the tooth inside very carefully, like it was a tiny treasure.

"You were so brave," his mom said. "I wasn't scared at all," Peter said, and then thinking about it, "Well, maybe a little, but Gracie helped." His mom smiled. "She always does." Peter's big sister came running when she heard the news, and even Dad poked his head out from the garage to see the famous tooth. Everyone took turns admiring the small white treasure in its plastic box, and Gracie trotted proudly from person to person as if the tooth had been a little bit of her doing, too.

In a way, Peter thought, maybe it had been. It was hard to feel scared of anything with a fluffy white dog by your side. For the rest of the afternoon, Peter kept touching the new gap in his smile with his tongue. It felt smooth and strange, like a little empty window where a tooth used to stand guard. He practiced his new smile in the hallway mirror, gap and all, and he decided he liked it.

It made him look like he had a secret, which in a way he did. That night, Peter placed the little tooth box under his pillow. He climbed into bed, and Gracie hopped up beside him, curling into her usual warm spot by his feet. Except tonight, she moved a little closer to his pillow, as if she knew something special was hiding underneath it.

"Do you think the Tooth Fairy will really come?" Peter asked her. Gracie yawned a big fluffy yawn and rested her chin on her paws. "I hope she leaves something good," Peter whispered. "But even if she doesn't, I still have my tooth, and I still have you." He scratched behind Gracie's ears one last time, and she leaned into his hand, her eyes closing happily.

Outside, the moon rose bright and round over the house, and the whole street grew quiet and still. Peter closed his eyes. Gracie sighed with her sleepy sigh, and somewhere under a pillow, in a small tooth-shaped box, a very small, very proud tooth waited for morning. When Peter woke up, sunlight was streaming through the curtains, and the first thing he did was reach under his pillow.

The tooth box was gone. In its place was something shiny and small, and a tiny note written in curly gold handwriting. "Congratulations on your very first lost tooth. Keep smiling. A new tooth will grow in soon." Peter gasped. Peter held up the shiny coin the Tooth Fairy had left behind. He looked over at Gracie, who was sitting at the end of his bed, tail thumping against the blanket, watching him with her bright, happy eyes.

"The Tooth Fairy came, Gracie. She really did." Gracie barked and hopped up, licking Peter's cheek, and Peter wrapped his arms around her fluffy white neck and laughed. He ran his tongue over the little gap in his smile. It felt funny and new and a tiny bit strange, but mostly it felt wonderful because it meant he was growing.

And no matter how many teeth wiggled loose over the years to come, Peter knew one thing for certain: Gracie would always be right there beside him, wiggling right along with him every single time. 

The Ballad of Peter & Gracie: Peter and Gracie, the finest of friends, with tales of wonder that never end. In the pages of books or stars above, they find their magic in laughter and love.

Fireside Books: There's exciting news for book lovers. Fireside Books in Parksville now has a second location in Port Alberni. The BookWyrm - used books are just $5 or less. The BookWyrm, on the corner of Redford and Anderson, opens seven days a week from 10 to 5, building your personal library for less. Fireside Books at 464 Island Highway East in Parksville is a book dragon's dream come true. Browse their extensive collections seven days a week. Both locations make growing your personal library easier than ever. New and used books and so much more. Order online at firesidebooks.ca and pick up at either location. Details available online.