By Jill Nogales
Frisco, along with lots of other stray dogs, is from the animal shelter. The animal shelter is kind of like an orphanage for homeless dogs. After school I help out by walking the dogs. They love to get out of their cages for awhile.
Frisco is my most favorite dog. Taking him for a walk is usually lots of fun. But the day I took him past Mr. and Mrs. Nelson’s house was a disaster.
I should have known better. After all, the Nelsons have three cats. They all have fancy names like Her Majesty the Queen of Tuna. Or something like that. And these cats always take an afternoon nap on the Nelsons’ front porch.
I’m sure Frisco just wanted to make friends with the cats. But he got so excited when he saw them, that he yanked the leash right out of my hand. He leaped onto the porch, wagging his tail like crazy. The cats hissed and spat and yowled, making a huge ruckus. And when Mr. Nelson came out and tried to pick them up, they scratched his nose.
“Get that dog out of here, Jamie!” yelled Mr. Nelson. “The whole point of having a shelter is to keep dogs from running around loose!”