CHAPTER 2

"Storm, keep watch while I get the shovels." Issie instructed her dog. Storm barked obediently, as if to say he was OK with it. He padded tentatively up to the huge mound of sugar-like snow, as if one false move would send the entire pile falling onto his small, frail body. He was a clever dog, and he knew that too much white stuff on top of his fragile frame would kill him immediately.

The snow rumbled down again and again, in a never-ending constant stream. Storm knew that if he didn't act upon his instincts right away, the person under all that snow would die. Where had Issie gone? She had been gone for far too long. Disobeying his mistress, he frantically scrabbled at the snow. His paws ached and his body strained, but he continued on. Just then, he heard a noise and Issie came over to him. The muffled cries of the person inside the snow were fading quickly, and both Issie and Storm were worried. The person inside was deteriorating. And fast.

Calling upon all his vocal strength, Storm uttered a loud, urgent howl. He wasn't strong enough to do it on his own. He needed help. Soon, a fifty-strong squad of dogs came trundling through the snow. There were German Shepherds, Pitbull terriers...even a group of toy poodles were present. Issie looked at Storm, amazed.

"Storm...did you send all these dogs to help?" She gasped. Storm replied with a bark. Issie looked at him, determination etched on her face.

"Then get your friends together and start the digging."