How to Look for a Lost Dog Read Online Free

carefully. When my father thinks Uncle Weldon is interfering in my raising, he threatens to keep us apart, which would make my uncle and me feel very sad.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said.
    Rain was lying next to me on the old couch that my father had put out on the porch. She rolled over on her back and rested her head in my lap.
    â€œYou asked me a question, but you don’t know why you asked it?” said my father.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat about it?” Uncle Weldon wanted to know. “Could I drive her? It would solve the problem.”
    â€œIt wouldn’t mean you’re a bad father,” I said.
    Uncle Weldon shifted his gaze from Hud Road to me, and his eyes opened wide. “That is certainly not what I meant.”
    â€œWell, anyway, I don’t see another way around it,” replied my father.
    And that is how Uncle Weldon started driving me to and from Hatford Elementary. Every morning, Rain and I wait on the front porch for my uncle to come along Hud Road in his black Chevrolet Montana. When I see the truck, I kiss Rain on her head and put her inside the house. Then I climb up beside my uncle and tell him if I’ve thought of any new homonyms since the day before.
    If I have, Uncle Weldon says, “That’s great!” Then we try to think of other new homonyms that sound like the new pair, the way I did with chews/choose and brews/bruise.
    After we discuss homonyms we look out the windows for a while, and then Uncle Weldon will say, “Everything all right with your father and Rain?”
    The least complicated answer is yes. I don’t say more unless I have to.
    Sometimes Uncle Weldon will say, “Would you like to go to a movie with me this weekend, Rose?” Or maybe, “Should we take Rain on a hike on Saturday?” Then we have to think about how to ask my father for permission.
    Finally we drive up in front of Hatford Elementary. Uncle Weldon and I always cross our fingers and touch our hearts before I slide out of the truck.
    At the end of the day I wait for my uncle again. I stand by the front door of the school and watch the kids I used to ride the bus with as they line up for Bus #7. I step away from Monty Soderman who is missing one (won) fingernail, and who wears very heavy boots that hurt a lot when he steps on my toes (tows). I wait (weight) and hum and stand by myself and stare (stair) straight (strait) ahead so that I can see (sea) Uncle Weldon the moment he turns onto School Lane (Lain). Then I run to his truck and he smiles as he leans across the seat to open the door for me.
    Sometimes we have a conversation like this:
    Uncle Weldon : How was school?
    Rose Howard : It was just like yesterday.
    Uncle Weldon : Exactly like yesterday?
    Rose Howard : No. That would be impossible.
    Uncle Weldon : Because today has a different date from yesterday.
    Rose Howard : And because the moon and stars are in different positions than yesterday.
    Uncle Weldon : What’s the most interesting thing you learned today?
    Rose Howard : That if you assign numbers to the letters in “Weldon” – like 23 for W because it’s the 23rd letter in the alphabet, and 5 for E, and 12 for L, and 4 for D, and 15 for O, and 14 for N – the numbers add up to 73. Guess what 73 is.
    Uncle Weldon : A prime number?
    Rose Howard : Yes! And that is as special as a homonym. My father’s name is a prime number too. W-E-S-L-E-Y comes out to 89.
    Uncle Weldon : Really?
    Rose Howard : Yes, but I don’t think he’ll be interested.
    Uncle Weldon : Well, I’m glad your father and I have prime number names, since you and Rain have homonym names. Now nobody will feel left out.
    Rose Howard : I wonder if my father would let me come over to your house on Saturday. I could rewrite my homonyms list. It’s getting crowded.
    Uncle Weldon : Would you like me to ask him about that?
    Rose Howard : Yes, but just ask if I can come over. Don’t mention