How to Look for a Lost Dog Read Online Free Page A

the list.
    Uncle Weldon : I’ll do what I can.
    Finger crosses, heart touches, I wave goodbye to my uncle.

7
Why I Don’t Ride the Bus
    I used to ride Bus #7 to school. Bus #7 made fourteen stops, which was good because 14 is a multiple of 7. I was the only person at my bus stop, the second stop on the route. At the next twelve stops, every kid would walk down the aisle looking for a seat and pass by the empty space next to me. Marnie Mayhew, who lives at the prime-number homonym address of 11 Band (Banned) Lane (Lain), would flick a wadded paper spitball at me as she went by. I would stare straight ahead and let it bounce off my face onto the bus floor. Then Wilson Antonelli would come along and say, “Pick it up, retard. You’re littering.”
    At each stop our driver, whose name was Shirley Ringwood, would look at us backwards in her big glaring mirror and wait until everyone was sitting down. Then she would close the door, put Bus #7 in gear, and start driving again. And I would watch out my window to see who was following the rules of the road. There are lots of rules for drivers, and they’re listed clearly in the New York State Driver’s Manual, but many drivers don’t follow them.
    â€œHey!” I would shout. “That man didn’t use his indicator before he turned the corner! Mrs Ringwood, did you see that? He broke the law.”
    Sometimes Mrs Ringwood would answer me, sometimes she just kept her eyes on the road ahead. It depended on how close to her I was sitting.
    Rainy days (daze) were difficult. The rule is that if your windscreen wipers are on, then your headlights must be on too. “Mrs Ringwood! Mrs Ringwood! I just saw three cars with their wipers on and their headlights off!” I would cry.
    Marnie would start to giggle and Wilson would lean over his seat and hold out his cell phone and say, “Why don’t you report that to the police, retard?”
    â€œThey’re supposed to follow the rules! They aren’t following the rules!”
    One day I sat down in the first row of seats so I could watch Mrs Ringwood’s driving. She slowed Bus #7 as we approached the intersection of Sandy Road and Route 9W. Then we rolled slowly by the stop sign.
    â€œMrs Ringwood! You didn’t come to a complete stop!” I shouted. “Mrs Ringwood, that’s against the law. It says in the manual that you must come to a complete stop. A complete stop.”
    Mrs Ringwood turned onto Route 9W. “Let it go, Rose.”
    â€œMrs Ringwood, are your headlights on?”
    A spitball hit me on the back of my neck.
    â€œHey, that driver wasn’t wearing his seat belt. Did you see that, Mrs Ringwood?”
    We reached School Lane. Ahead was Hatford Elementary. Mrs Ringwood turned the wheel to the right and we started to swing into our bus lane.
    â€œStop!” I shouted. “Mrs Ringwood, stop right now!”
    Mrs Ringwood slammed on the brakes. “What’s the matter?” she cried. She stood up to look out her window. Behind me, all the kids crowded to the other windows to see what had happened. Traffic came to a halt.
    â€œYou didn’t use your indicator,” I said. “That’s against the rules.”
    Mrs Ringwood sat down again. She leaned her forehead on the steering wheel. Then she turned around and said to me, “Are you freaking kidding?” After she parked Bus #7 she went into Hatford Elementary and spoke with the principal.
    That’s why I don’t ride the bus any more.

8
In My Classroom
    My classroom faces south-east and has windows along one side and 21 desks for students, plus Mrs Kushel’s desk, plus Mrs Leibler’s chair, which sits next to my desk and blocks the aisle.
    There are eleven girls and ten boys in my class.
    There are two gerbils in my class.
    Our classroom rules are written on a sheet of paper, which is posted next to the door of our room.
    Mrs Kushel smells of apples and has