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

place. He must not trust you, Cuddles.”
    Twitch seems to wait for me to be watching before he’ll climb into the garbage can at the edge of the playground. “Oh, Cuddles!” he’ll say. “There’s wonderful, tasty garbage in here today! Here’s a French fry! And half a baloney sandwich! And some macaroni and cheese! I can’t remember: Do you like macaroni and cheese, Cuddles?”
    I stand there drooling, knowing I can’t cross the short distance to get into that delightful-sounding garbage can.
    Sometimes the only way to avoid Twitch is to go to sleep.
    That’s what I was doing when Twitch ran right over my nose.
    Yow! That hurt!
    I just knew he did it on purpose, and I went running after him. I was so mad that I ran so fast that the rope leash broke. I kept on running, pulling that long rope with me.
    An owl was chasing Twitch, too. I don’t know what Twitch did to get
her
mad. But I saw Twitch was heading for the school. The man who works for Master cleaning and repairing the building had hung a big banner over the door that said WELCOME because Master had invited special guests to come the next day. The man had left the door open while he was putting his ladder back in his truck.
    â€œDon’t you
dare
go into Master’s school,” I shouted at Twitch.
    Guess what.
    He ignored me.
    In he went, as though he owned the place—just the way he acts as though he owns the yard.
    The owl knew school was off-limits. “He’s all yours,” she said, winging away.
    I was in the right. But the trouble was, all the pets took Twitch’s side.
    From room to room I went, chasing Twitch. A few things got knocked down or spilled or broken—but it was all Twitch’s fault.
    Those pets all worked together—even animals that
shouldn’t
work together.
    Finally, they knocked a big box on top of me. It was dark in there. I wasn’t sure if that snake had been trapped inside with me or not, because the pine shavings kind of smelled like him. He didn’t look like the kind of snake who bites, but you can’t trust snakes. I hunkered down and sat quiet.
    I could hear the pets laughing out in the hall and having a good time together. It was like a party!
    The squirrel was telling jokes—mostly to do with me.
    And the hamster and the parrot were telling everyone about how their names came from books, and they were all acting like that was a big deal.
    And the rabbit was saying they needed to get out and get together more often—and they had to figure out a way for the squirrel to join them, too! And she asked the rat if he could open all the cages again the next day.
    And the rat said yes, in between carrying on about something or other to do with Cinderella.
    And the turtle said they could all work on an art project together.
    And the geckos were saying they knew how to make a working volcano, and did anyone want to see?
    Even the fish were saying something—I don’t know what—it was too bubbly for me to understand.
    I wasn’t hearing the snake, which was part of the reason I suspected he was under the box with me. But I had just decided I needed to get out from under there—snake or no snake—when suddenly there were sirens, and people came rushing in, shouting, “This is the police.”
    I heard the pets scatter, then someone lifted the box off me.

    No snake, but I saw something worse.
    The person who had lifted the box was Master.
    â€œCuddles, Cuddles, what have you done?” he asked. “Bad dog.
Bad
dog.”
    I tried to tell him about the squirrel—and about what the pets were planning—but Master has trouble understanding more than the simplest things I say. He usually gets “I’m hungry,” and “I want to play,” and “I gotta poop or pee,” but that’s about it. He obviously had no idea what I was saying there in the school.
    He had just taken hold of my