Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Where was that scratching coming from? Dan looked all over the house.
Scratch. Scratch. Dan opened the door to the basement. He looked down the steps. Nothing there.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. There it was again. Dan opened the kitchen door and looked out. It was raining hard. There were big puddles in the yard. That was all he saw, though. There was nothing on the porch.
Scratch. Scratch. Now where could that noise be coming from? Dan had an idea. It must be something on television. He went into the living room. The television was not on.
Scratch. Whimper. Scratch. Whine. Dan stopped. That time it sounded like it came from the front door. Dan ran to the door and opened it. There it was! It was a dog. The dog was all wet and muddy. He looked cold and hungry.
Dan ran to the bathroom and got a towel. He wrapped the towel around the dog and carried him to the bathtub. He gave the dog a warm bath and took him into the kitchen to dry off.
"Look, Dad," he said. "It's that pretty white dog from down the street. He was all wet and muddy. He was shivering, and he looks hungry. Can I give him something to eat?"
"Yes," his father said. "Do you know the name of the family that owns him? They must be worried about him."Paragraphs 9 to 19:
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