8 Class Pets + 1 Squirrel ÷ 1 Dog = Chaos Read Free Page B

creature followed the squirrel, knocking into one of the desks where, during the day,one of the little men sits. The desk tipped over, and books and papers and pencils fell out.

    The big noisy creature continued to follow the squirrel. The big noisy creature had something trailing from him, the way sometimes a crab will have seaweed trailing from itself. It was long and white, and it got wrapped around things, and it knocked over a big plant by the man’s desk. Dirt and leaves fell out.
    The big noisy creature tried to follow the squirrel up onto the man’s desk, and that sent more books and papers and pencils onto the floor. A picture of the man’s family fell as well, and his souvenir mug from MarineLand—which looks like a wondrous place.
    The squirrel went up the stand that holds the globe. But then he stepped onto the globe. The globespun. The squirrel spun. The squirrel flew through the air and landed on the big noisy creature’s head.
    The big noisy creature was so startled, he made his own water right there on the floor.
    The squirrel and his friend darted out the door.
    â€œIn a school!” we called after them.
    The big noisy creature followed them.
    But the long white thing that was not seaweed must have gotten wrapped around the cart that makes our pond move, the cart that the little men are not supposed to lean on.
    We began to move, dragged along by the big noisy creature. Our pond swayed and bumped behind him as he ran.
    We continued to swim, safe, in a school, in a school.

LENORE
(fourth-grade parrot)

    Hola!
    That’s one of my favorite words because I come from Puerto Rico, and that’s how people there say “hello.” The Spanish for “please” is
por favor
, and “thank you” is
gracias
. Those three words cover a variety of situations.
    Another of my favorite words is “Nevermore” because that’s a refrain in a poem called “The Raven.” A refrain is a word you say over and over. I like to say words over and over.
    But I don’t like to say, “Polly wants a cracker.” I don’t know why some people think I should.
    My name isn’t even Polly. My name is Lenore, and it comes from that same raven poem.
    But I’m not a raven. I am a blue and gold macaw, which is a kind of parrot.
    Luckily, I
love
poetry. My owner—her name is Rosa DaSilva—she says that since we both come from Puerto Rico, poetry is in our blood. (Along with our accents, I guess.) Here is a poem I have been working on:
Sitting in the trees,
I sometimes sneeze
as loud as you please.
With a beak as big as mine,
you need to draw the line,
or a sneeze will rattle your knees.
    Okay, okay, I’m still working on it.
    Some of those fourth-graders, believe me, their poems aren’t any better.
    Good poetry or bad, I like being in school with Rosa and the kids.
    When Rosa first got me, she’d leave me home while she went to the school to teach. All day long, nobody else was there: Mr. DaSilva works in a bank;the DaSilva kids go to their own schools. Being alone made me crazy. I started to pluck my feathers. That made
Rosa
crazy. She was like, “Eeek! I’m going to end up with a bald bird!”
    Now she brings me to the classroom where she teaches. The kids there call her Mrs. DaSilva instead of Rosa. When we’re in school, I have to remember to call her Mrs. DaSilva, too.
Such a chore, such a bore:
Not Rosa, por favor .
It’s Mrs. DaSilva in school.
That is the rule
if I wanna be cool.
    This is hard to remember. I also have to remember there are other words I’m not supposed to say in school, either.
    I think school has too many rules.
    Sometimes if Rosa and her family have to go someplace and stay out late, she’ll leave me here in the classroom overnight. That’s okay; I don’t mind. Once in a while.
    That’s how I got to meet the squirrel.
    This is what happened: One day this squirrel, he comes