Short Story

Hi! Well I might be asking too much, but I'm in need of someone who can help me to read a short story. In order to learn how to narrate a short story I need an audio of it. Unfortunately, I didn't find anything. I would really appreciate your help.
The Choking Dog
"Come on, come on, move it, idiot!"
Joanne beat impatiently on the steering wheel of
her Mercedes sports car. How stupid to get caught up
in the rush hour! She had planned to leave work early
this afternoon, at three o'clock, to give herself a
chance to relax and have a bath before going out to a
meeting of her local tennis club. But just at ten to
three a client had arrived, and it was two hours before
she had finished dealing with the man. When she
came out of her office, all the other staff in the
Highlight Advertising Agency had already left. Now
she was stuck in a traffic jam in central Birmingham
at 5:30, and at 6:30 she was expected to be chairing a
meeting of the tennis club. There would be no time for
any hot bath.
Ahead of her, the traffic was moving at last, and
she swung quickly out into the centre lane to turn
right, and raced the last half-mile through the quiet
suburban streets to her house. Pulling up on the
driveway, she leapt out of the car and ran for the
house. As she opened the door, she nearly tripped
over Sheba, who was standing behind it.
"Hey, Sheba, hello," she said, bending down to
stroke the large alsatian dog's head, "I've got no time
for you now, but I'll take you out as soon as I get back
from the tennis club."
It was then that she noticed something worrying
about the dog. Sheba seemed to be coughing or
choking, her stomach pumping repeatedly as if she
was trying to vomit something up. She was obviously
in real discomfort and could hardly breathe; her sad
eyes gazed up at Joanne helplessly.
"Oh damn, this is all I need now," said Joanne to
herself, dropping her briefcase and bending down to
take a closer look, "a sick dog, today of all days!" On
closer examination, Sheba did look very sick, and
Joanne realised she would have to take her down to
the vet immediately. Luckily, the vet's surgery was
only a few streets away, and Joanne quickly loaded
the dog, still coughing and choking, into her car for the
short drive.
When she got there, the surgery was just about to
close for the day. Luckily, Dr. Sterne had not left yet,
and when he saw the state of Sheba, he brought her
quickly into his office.
"It looks like something is stuck in her throat," said
Dr. Sterne. It shouldn't take me too long to get it out."
"Listen, doctor, I'm really in a rush to get to a
meeting -- can I leave her with you, and go and get
changed? I'll be back in ten minutes to pick her up,
then I'll take her on to the meeting with me. Is that
OK?"
"Sure," said the doctor. "You get going. I'll see you
in ten minutes."
Joanne jumped back into her car again, and made
the quick trip round to her house in a couple of
minutes. As she was once more entering the hallway,
the phone on the table by the door began to ring. She
picked it up, annoyed by this additional interruption to
her plans.
"This is Dr. Sterne," said an anxious voice. "Is that
you, Joanne?"
"Of course it's me," said Joanne, surprised at the
sound of his voice, "no-one else lives here."
"I want you to get right out of that house
immediately," said the doctor's voice. "Right now. I'm
coming round right away, and the police will be there
any time now. Wait outside for us." The phone went
dead. Joanne stared at it. She was confused, but she
was also a little frightened by the obvious fear in the
voice of the doctor. She replaced the receiver, then
quickly backed out of the door and ran into the street.
At that moment, a police car with its lights flashing
swung round the corner and screeched to a stop
outside the house. Two policemen got out. After
briefly checking that she was the owner of the house,
they ran into the house through the still open door,
without explaining anything. Joanne was by now
completely confused and very frightened. Then the
doctor arrived.
"Where's Sheba? Is she OK?" shouted Joanne,
running over to his car.
"She's fine, Joanne. I extracted the thing which was
choking her, and she's OK now."
"Well what's this all about? Why are the police in
my house?"
Just then, the two policemen reappeared from the
house, half-carrying a white-faced figure, a man in a
dark grey sweater and jeans, who, it seemed, could
hardly walk. There was blood all over him.
"My God," said Joanne, "how did he get in there?
And how did you know he was there?"
"I think he must be a burglar," said the doctor. "I
knew he was there because when I finally removed
what was stuck in Sheba's throat, it turned out to be
three human fingers. I don't think he's a very happy
burglar."