The Storm Read Online Free Page B

desperate. Her eyes were wide with fear and she licked her jowls nervously.
    â€œWindows break?” Shep asked. “How do you know so much about windows?”
    â€œI like to chase things,” she barked, lifting one paw off the grate, then another. “Outside things that land on the window, or near the window. Once I knocked a heavy metal thing into the glass while chasing a bug and the window broke.”
    Shep’s family would not be happy with him for breaking a window. But he was desperate for water — what other choice did he have?
    â€œWhat kinds of things break windows?” he asked.
    â€œThere,” the girldog said, her nose waving toward the corner of the main room. “That light should do it.”
    Shep padded over to the tall light in the corner. The light was like a metal tree: It had a fat base at the bottom, then a thin stick, which stretched up to an open-mouth part that shone with light when the humans flicked a switch on the wall. Shep tapped the light with his snout; it didn’t budge. The light was certainly heavy, but the glass in the window was strong — Shep had slammed his paws against it enough times to know. He wasn’t sure if the girldog’s plan would work, but he was so thirsty. He had to try.
    Shep pushed at the tall, thin stick part of the light, first gently, then harder and harder until the whole thing began to sway on its base. With one final shove, the light toppled over and hit the nearest window with a loud crack. Now the glass looked like a spider’s web.
    â€œPush on the window with your paws,” the girldog said.
    Shep reared on his hind legs and pushed at the spiderweb. It gave slightly against his paws — the girldog was right! Shep pushed harder, thrusting off his hind legs.
    â€œWatch it!” the girldog barked. “Jump from the floor and push once with your paws, then jump away. Broken glass is sharp.”
    Shep followed her advice, seeing as she’d been right about every thing else. He leapt off his hind legs, shoved his paws into the glass, then caught the wooden edge of the window with his hind claws and thrust himself back into the room. The window splintered and fell Outside, onto the grate.
    Shep stood on the couch and looked out through the hole in the window. Shards of glass glinted in the rain, sharp as fangs.
    â€œNow what?” he growled, frustrated. All that work, and he still couldn’t get out of the den.
    â€œI don’t know,” the girldog yapped. “Get something to cover the sharp bits.”
    Shep thought about this: He needed something to protect his paws. Like shoes! The woman had put shoes on Shep’s paws once, but Shep instantly pulled them off and he hadn’t seen them since. And even if he could find his shoes, he couldn’t put them onto his own paws. Perhaps the mat by the entry door would cover the sharp bits?
    Shep ran to the entry and pulled up the mat with his teeth, knocking off the newspaper. He dragged it to the window, onto the couch, and then swung it through the hole. He had to push the mat with his snout to get it all the way through, but, once through, it flopped onto the grate and covered the clear bits completely.
    â€œNow jump out and help me!” the girldog howled.
    Shep looked at the hole in the window. Glass still hung inside the window frame like a mouth full of teeth. “Wait!” barked Shep. He had an idea.
    Shep went into the Bath room and pulled up the mat that lay on the floor beside the tub. He dragged it into the main room, up onto the couch, and, gripping it firmly between his teeth, flung it out the hole in the window. It landed on the glass still clinging to the window frame.
    â€œDid the first mat not look soft enough?” the girldog yipped sarcastically.
    â€œNo,” Shep growled. “The first mat won’t protect me as I climb out the window.”
    The girldog cocked her head, thinking, then cowered.