The Storm (Dogs of the Drowned City, Book 1)

The Storm (Dogs of the Drowned City, Book 1)

Dayna Lorentz

Language: English

Pages: 92

ISBN: B01HC10YGY

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Warriors and Guardians of Ga'Hoole fans have a new animal adventure to sink their teeth into! A terrible storm—and the beginning of a thrilling new animal adventure trilogy!

When a hurricane forces his family to evacuate without him, Shep the German sheperd is confused. Where is his boy? Will he ever return? And what will Shep do in the meantime, now that the extra bowls of food—not to mention all those tasty things he found in the big cold box—are gone?

Then another dog shows up at Shep's window and convinces him to escape. There's food outside, and a whole empty city to explore. Shep just wants to go home… but the adventure of a lifetime is just beginning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

wait for his boy. “I’m leaving,” Shep woofed to Callie. “You can’t leave!” Callie pushed out her chest and raised her ears and tail. “Where’s your sense of honor? This dog needs our help.” She squinted her little eyes and cocked her head. “What would the Great Wolf do?” Shep sighed. Why did I tell her about the Great Wolf? “What’s a knob?” he barked. “And how do you turn it?” The little dog snorted and snuffled on the other side of the door, muttering something about ignorant mutts. “Who’re

burst forward, springing off his hind legs. As he ran, the gusty wind ruffled his fur. His tongue lolled from his open mouth and his paws pounded the dirt. The fenced-in part of the Park was not large. There were open stretches of grass, some trees and bushes, a bench here and there, a water hose which made terrific mud pools, and, in the center, an arrangement of obstacles — a tunnel, a platform, lines of sticks thrusting up from the earth. Shep circled around it like a flash of brown fur and

door.’ I’m about ready to lock myself back in my den and take my chances with the storm.” “I hear you, buddy,” Shep moaned, flopping down beside him. Zeus wagged his tail. “The yellow dog is a little off,” he said. “We found one other dog, but his door had some sort of chain holding it shut. We called the Furface over to help, but he had no idea what to do.” Zeus had apparently taken to calling Higgins “the Furface.” “We had one snob who wanted to be left in her den,” Shep woofed. “And one old

heads and blinding lights in their hands, charged in. Some had guns and they began shooting dogs with darts; others had long poles with ropes dangling from them. The fear smell was so thick Shep gagged with each breath. He knew something bad was happening. When a man in black cut open the lock on his cage, Shep bolted for the door. He knocked the man over and raced down the path between the cages, claws scraping the stone. There was so much noise and confusion, so many dogs howling and thrashing

the stairwell — none smelled like his boy. Each time feet passed his door, he whined and scratched at the door frame. But nothing happened. The door did not open; his boy did not return. It was midsun, but the den was dim. Shep went to the window and looked out. People carrying bags waddled, arms over heads, down the rain-soaked streets. A few Cars growled at the light below Shep’s window. When the light changed, they raced away. All moved in the same direction, the Cars and the people. Shep

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