Free The Fashion Disaster by Carolyn Keene, Maeky Pamfntuan Page A

dog,” Maya said. “My parents let me take her to fashion shows, photo shoots, pawtograph signings—”
    â€œPawtograph?” Nancy asked.
    â€œLola signs her pictures with her paw print,” Nicki explained. “You know, autographs . . . pawtographs.”
    Maya and Nicki introduced themselves. They were in the third grade, just like Nancy, Bess, and George. The girls lived in the next town, Valley View.
    â€œMy name is Nancy,” Nancy said. She pointed to Bess and George. “And these are my friends—”
    BZZZZZZZ!
    The noise made Nancy jump. It came from Nicki’s watch.
    â€œTwelve fifteen,” Nicki said. “Time for Lola’s vitamin water break!”
    Nicki pulled a bottle of water from her purple backpack and put it to Lola’s mouth. She held it steady as Lola slurped loudly.
    â€œNicki is Lola’s personal assistant,” Maya whispered. “She can’t have her own dog because her brother is allergic. So being around Lola is the next best thing.”
    Just then a gray, fuzzy-faced dog scampered over. He was wearing an orange vest that read “Adopt Me.” Nancy guessed the dog came from the Rollover Rescue Shelter. The shelter had set up a tent in the park for the day.
    Chip and the dog touched noses. But when the fuzzy-faced pup walked toward Lola, Maya screamed, “A shelter dog! Get him away from Lola! Get him away!”

    The little gray dog scooted in and out between Nancy, Bess, and George’s legs. The girls laughed and shrieked.
    â€œPercy! Sit! Stay! Heel! Cool your jets!” A boy wearing an orange T-shirt ran over. Nancy thought he looked about nine years old. The boy tried to catch Percy but with no luck.
    â€œWe’ve got him!” a voice called.
    Two teenagers wearing the same orange shirts as the boy raced over. Nancy read their name tags. The teenagers were Tracey and Vincent. The younger boy’s name was Rusty.
    Tracey pointed her finger at Percy. Then, in a firm voice, she said, “Sit!”
    Percy stopped in his tracks and sat down, just like magic!
    â€œGood boy,” Vincent said.
    â€œWow!” Nancy said. “You guys are great with dogs!”
    â€œThat’s because we’re the Bow-Wow Brigade,” Vincent said with a smile. “We volunteer forthe Rollover Rescue Shelter. We feed dogs, walk them, clean their cages—”
    â€œEw!” Bess put in. “I hate cleaning out the hamster cage at school.”
    â€œI don’t mind,” Rusty said. “Before this, I volunteered at another pet shelter in Valley View.”
    â€œValley View?” Maya said. “There is no pet shelter in my town. And no shelter dogs, either!”
    â€œHuh?” Rusty said, wrinkling his nose.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with shelter dogs?” Vincent asked.
    â€œThe dogs we rescue are great,” Tracey said.
    â€œThey’re okay, if you like mutts and junkyard dogs,” Maya said. “My Lola is a purebred standard poodle from the south of France!”
    â€œYeah . . . and I’m Spider-Man,” Rusty muttered.
    The Bow-Wow Brigade and Percy walked away. Nancy could tell they didn’t like what Maya said about shelter dogs.
    â€œWe’d better go too,” Nancy said. “Chip isin the fashion show later, and I’m walking her down the runway.”
    â€œLola walks down the runway all by herself,” Maya bragged. “As long as Nicki waves her favorite dog biscuit.”
    â€œChip has a favorite biscuit too,” Nancy said. “It’s called Lick My Chops.”
    â€œShh!” Maya hissed. “Don’t mention those yucky biscuits in front of Lola. She hates them!”
    â€œLola only eats Bone Appetit biscuits,” Nicki said. “They’re from a fancy pet bakery in New York City.”
    Nicki pulled a biscuit from her purple backpack. Nancy, Bess, and George jumped back. The biscuit smelled like stinky