Storm Rescue Read Free Page A

my cheeks turn red. David doesn’t know how to let something drop. I hope he’s not going to start calling me scaredy-cat all the time.
    Dr. Mac gazes at Stormy thoughtfully. “Why don’t you bring him in?” she suggests. “I can take a quick look.”
    â€œCould you?” Jacqueline looks relieved. “Thank you so much. That would make us feel a lot better.” She puts one hand over her heart. Everything she does is dramatic. I guess that comes from being on TV every day.
    I follow Dr. Mac, David, and the Jermaines inside, making sure there’s plenty of room between me and Stormy. He looks even more enormous once we’re all in the reception area. I know he’s a gentle, well-behaved, friendly dog that wouldn’t hurt a flea. But that doesn’t stop me from being a little uneasy around him.
    Dr. Mac is staring at him, her eyes thoughtful and distant, the way they always get when she’s concentrating on something. “Sunita, could you help me with the exam, please?”
    â€œMe?” I gulp, glancing at Stormy out of the corner of my eye. “Sure, I—”
    â€œI’ll do it,” David interrupts. He steps up and gives Stormy another pat. “It’ll take a strong kid like me to help keep Stormy on the exam table. Besides, Stormy likes my Scooby-Doo imitation.”
    I force a smile as he follows Dr. Mac, Stormy, and Jacqueline into the Dolittle Room. But I have a queasy sort of feeling in the pit of my stomach. I sink down onto one of the chairs in the reception area. Am I really a scaredy-cat?

Chapter Three
    D o you mind if I sit here with you, Sunita?” Bill Jermaine says. “That exam room is too small for both Stormy and me, and I don’t want to get in the doctor’s way.”
    I glance at him, suddenly realizing that he hasn’t followed the others. “No problem,” I say weakly, forcing another smile. I don’t want him to see that I’m upset. I especially don’t want him to guess that his big dog scares me, at least a little. It wouldn’t look good for someone who volunteers at a vet clinic.
    â€œThanks,” Bill says, sitting down beside me. The chair squeaks a little under his weight.
    At that moment Socrates, Dr. Mac’s cat, wanders into the room. He stops and looks at us for a moment. I’m expecting him to come to me, but he goes to Bill instead. With a small meow, he butts his big orange head against Bill’s shin.
    â€œThat’s strange,” Bill says, raising one eyebrow as he leans over to pat Socrates gingerly on the back. “This cat never gave me the time of day before.”
    It’s more than strange. Socrates isn’t the friendly type, like Lucy. He’s more of a look-but-don’t-touch kind of cat. Just about the only people he lets pet him are Dr. Mac and me.
    â€œHe’s acting like a completely different cat,” I comment as Socrates weaves in and out around Bill’s legs. “I wonder if there’s something wrong with him.”
    â€œI wouldn’t worry too much,” Bill says. “It’s probably Hurricane Felix that’s affecting him, just like Stormy.”
    â€œThe hurricane?” I say. “What do you mean? Does Stormy know that it’s coming this way?”
    â€œWell, he probably wouldn’t put it so specifically. But yes, he knows something is wacky about the weather—like now, he knows a big storm is brewing. Animals are good at sensing that.”
    â€œAre you saying that animals can predict the weather before it happens?” I ask.
    â€œNot exactly.” Bill smiles. “They use their five regular senses just like us, only they’re a little more perceptive than we are about certain environmental changes, like air pressure and static electricity. As a cat lover, you might notice that static electricity in the air often makes cats groom themselves more.”
    â€œThat explains