“C’mon, Joey,” Dad called. “The wind’s picking up. Gather the animals into the barn.”

  The wind howled as Joey raced toward the barn. At nine years old, he knew how to herd chickens. And if he missed any, Champ would get the stragglers.

  The five-year-old black and white collie raced from his side to chase a stray hen.

  I bet if Champ could smile, he’d be smiling now, Joey thought.

  Dad urged them through the open barn door. The chickens disappeared into the darkness, followed by Champ, then Joey. Joey counted the chickens by the dim light from the open doorway.

  “They’re all here, Dad,” Joey said.

  “Good, let’s close this door before we get blown away. Then we can head downstairs.”

  Dad started to push the door closed when one of the chickens darted into the storm. Champ raced after it.

  “No, Champ, stop!” Joey rushed to the door.

“Joey, stand back, I gotta close this door.”

  Joey blocked the doorway. “Dad, how can you leave Champ out there? Mom left him to look after us, before she...” He trailed off as tears welled in his eyes. It had been five years since Mom had lost her battle with cancer. Before she died, Mom gave Champ to Joey as a birthday present. Joey cleared his throat, then continued. “He’s one of the only things I have left.”

  Dad sighed. “Joey, I know how much he means to you, but I won’t risk losing you too.”

  Joey’s face grew hot. “Well, I’m gonna go look for him.” Before Dad could respond, he dashed into the storm.

  Rain pelted Joey’s face and hands like needles as he ran. A pungent smell like burnt toast hung in the air. Joey shouted over the wind. “Here Champ!” He heard Champ’s bark up ahead.

  Joey saw the back porch through the rain. Barks continued to echo from underneath. Joey dove into the mud and thrust his body under. He crawled next to Champ.

  “C’mon Boy,” Joey coaxed. Champ looked at him and whimpered.

  “Joey, where are you?” Dad called.

  “I’m under the porch with Champ,” Joey shouted back.

  Joey heard footsteps approach, then Dad’s head appeared.

  “C’mon outta there,” he commanded.

  Joey wasn’t about to leave Champ behind. “I can’t, Dad.”

  “Then I’ll come get you,” Dad said. Joey watched as Dad wriggled his upper body into the opening.

  A flash shone around Dad’s body, followed by a thunderous roar. A crash sounded overhead. Joey watched in horror as the porch came down on Dad’s legs. Dad cried out.

  “Dad!” Joey shouted. He crawled to where the fallen porch had trapped Dad's legs.

  Dad’s head rolled to look at Joey, and his fists clenched at the side of his face. “Son, you have to crawl out and go next door to get Mr. Flanagan.”

  “No Dad, I’m not leaving you here. I’m gonna get you out.”

  “Son, you can’t. It’ll take too long.”

Joey turned away from Dad’s pinched lips and pale face so he could get to work. He dug in the slippery mud, but every time he scooped some away, more fresh mud oozed into the hole. The hot, stuffy air under the porch, combined with the odor of damp earth, clouded his head.

Maybe Dad’s right, Joey thought. I should’ve gone for help.

He turned away from Dad’s hopeful gaze and looked at Champ, who lay in a hole he had dug close to the house.

Suddenly, Joey had an idea.
  “Here Champ!” Champ got up and walked over to them. “C’mon Champ, dig with me.”

  As Joey continued to dig in the mud on Dad’s left, Champ dug the mud away from Dad’s right side. Soon, they scooped all the loose mud and worked on the dry dirt underneath. Two trenches appeared on either side of Dad, deep enough for him to crawl the rest of the way under.

“Son, we really should get back to the barn or into the house,” Dad suggested.

“Lemme see if it’s safe first,” Joey said. He crawled to the side of the porch and poked his head out. The smell of pine hit him before he saw what had caused the porch to collapse. The large pine tree in their yard lay across the section of the porch furthest from the house.

Lightning streaked in front of him and seemed to touch the ground, and thunder boomed. He ducked his head under the porch and returned to Dad and Champ.

“I think we’d be better off here Dad,” Joey said. “Besides, you might not be able to walk.”

“Okay,” Dad agreed, and gave him a weary smile.

Joey listened to the rain outside and felt the warmth of Dad and Champ against him as they huddled together. Overcome with exhaustion, Joey fell asleep.

  When Joey woke up, Dad lay next to him with his eyes closed. Panicked, Joey shook him. “Dad, wake up!”

  Dad stirred, opened his eyes, and smiled.

  “Dad, you’re okay!” Joey exclaimed.

  “My legs are a little sore, but I’m fine,” Dad said. “You two were very brave today. You know, maybe your mother did leave Champ to watch over us.”

  Joey beamed, then frowned. “Dad, where’s Champ?”

  Dad frowned back. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s outside.”

   “We have to make sure he’s okay.” Joey paused to look at Dad.

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

  The two of them crawled from under the porch and stood in the backyard.

  “Here Champ!” Joey called.

  Joey cupped his hands to his ears, but he could hear nothing but the whistling wind.

  Where can he be? he thought.

Movement in a nearby bush made Joey’s heart flutter, but only the runaway chicken emerged, ruffling its feathers.

Suddenly, Joey heard a yip as Champ wriggled from under the bush. Mud dripped from his fur, but Joey didn’t care as he hugged him tight. Dad encircled both of them with his arms. Joey felt better than he had in a long time.