“I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Amy.

“Worms are in your butt!” yelled Marguerite as she skipped away.

Once they were all inside the car—Amy shotgun, Rover’s head sticking out over the back seat from the way-back—Dad rolled down the passenger-seat window. Amy leaned her head out, putting her face in the breeze and drooping her elbow on the warm outer metal of the door. The wind rushed through her hair, massaging all the worries of school and the science fair out of her brain. She heard the back-seat window roll down, and saw that Rover was joining her, pushing his snout out from over the back seat so he could smell the fresh air. Maybe, she thought, she was just one of the dogs.

“School good?” asked Dad as Amy finally flopped back in her seat.

“Eh,” she said, loosened up from the wind in her face. “I’m getting a little nervous about the science fair, though. It’s coming up, and all I have are sketches.”

“I’m not worried,” said Dad, waving a hand in the air. “I know you. You’ll come up with something amazing. You’ll blow everyone else away.” Amy smiled at him but still felt anxiety gnawing at her. She knew that was just Dad’s line when it came to her—I’m not worried, you’re the best. This time, though, it somehow made her worry even more. She didn’t want to let Dad down.

They pulled into the parking lot of the boxy white office building that housed their vet. Amy kept a tight hold on Rover’s leash as she walked him toward the door, expecting him to whine and pull away, or blow his coat the way Stormy did at the vet’s. Instead, Rover got a few feet away from the door … and stopped.

Rover looked at the vet’s office, looked back at her, huffed, and walked forward.

The waiting room was small and smelled of weird soap. Three people were already there: a college-aged guy holding a pit bull with a cone on its head, an old woman with a cat in a carrier case, and a skinny man clutching an iguana. As Dad spoke to the woman at the front desk, Amy led Rover to a nearby seat.

As soon as they got close, the cat let loose a high, warbling shriek, and the plastic carrier box began shaking in the woman’s lap. The pit bull stood at attention and barked loudly and angrily at Amy. Even the iguana crawled up its owner’s shirt and hissed.

Amy was flabbergasted—she hadn’t even known lizards could hiss. She instinctively pulled at Rover’s leash, but the German shepherd just stood there, staring straight ahead, looking calm. The people in the waiting room were still shushing and petting their animals as a nurse came out and ushered Amy, her father, and Rover into the offices in back.