Pugly Bakes a Cake

by Pamela Butchart

  Clem was being so NICE suddenly. That sounded

  I mean, I WAS quite tired after all the mixing. Plus I needed to go through ALL of the drawers and cupboards upstairs until I found Maddy’s dad’s best bow tie for when I went on TV.

  After my nap I felt FABULOUS. I’d had THE BEST dream ever. I’d dreamed that Maddy came home and tasted my cake and she loved it SO much that she bought me a hat that said BEST PET EVER on it and I wore it to the park and the cinema and when I had tea with the Queen (because I was famous, and that’s what famous people do).

  “CLEMMMMMMM!” I shouted down the stairs. “Do you think I should wear a HAT as well as a BOW TIE when I’m on the TV later?”

  But Clem didn’t answer.

  I tried on all the hats I could find, but I didn’t really like any of them (well, maybe the big flowery one but I couldn’t really see when I had it on) so I decided just to wear the bow tie.

  I looked in the mirror.

  I gasped.

  “CLEM! Come and look at me. I look

  “CLEM?”

  I thought it was weird that Clem hadn’t replied or come upstairs to help me with the hats, so I went down to the kitchen to find her.

  I gasped when I saw the mess in the kitchen. It looked even WORSE than when I’d gone up for a nap. The place was TRASHED!

  And then I smelled the smell.

  “EEEEUUUURRRGHHH!” I said. “Was that YOU, Clive?”

  Clive had clearly PARPED a very bad fishy parp. I jumped up on the counter and reached up to see Clive. He might be able to tell me what had happened to the kitchen while I’d been sleeping. But Clive wasn’t in his tank. He was GONE!

  “CLEMMMMMM!” I screamed. “Where ARE you? Someone’s FISHNAPPED Clive!”

  But Clem was nowhere to be seen.

  That’s when I remembered my cake.

  What if someone had taken that, too?

  I jumped down and ran over to the oven. Phew! The cake was still in there.

  I put on my oven gloves and took the cake out and placed it on the counter.

  That’s when I realised where the smell was coming from. Something had gone HORRIBLY wrong. My cake STANK!

  I tried to stay calm.

  “Don’t panic, Pugly,” I told myself. “You’ll think of something.”

  THAT’S when my pug brain PINGED into action again and I realised what was REALLY going on. I’d figured out WHY the cake looked and smelled AWFUL. Of COURSE! I couldn’t BELIEVE IT! I’d been such a FOOL!

  I HADN’T ADDED THE PISTACHIO NUTS YET!

  I quickly put the cake back in the oven and looked around the kitchen for the pistachios. They would fix

  I’d sprinkle them all over the cake, the smell would disappear, and then Clem would come back from wherever she’d gone, help me find Clive and then we’d all tidy up this mess before Maddy got home. But I couldn’t find the pistachio nuts ANYWHERE.

  And then I spotted him.

  He was sitting on the fence, munching.

  “GET LOST!” I barked through the glass. “I don’t have TIME for you just now.”

  I froze. Hang on! What was that he was munching? I pushed my face RIGHT up against the glass. He was holding something in his evil little paws … something GREEN!

  I went absolutely BERSERK! I had NO IDEA how the Evil Squirrel had got his hands on MY pistachio nuts. How did he get in here?

  “The CAT FLAP!” I barked through the glass. “THAT’S how you got in here. THIEF! And just LOOK at the mess you’ve made!”

  Then I gasped. “CLIVE! You FISHNAPPED him, didn’t you? Where are you hiding him? WHERE? You are

  The Evil Squirrel just stared at me and kept munching. He seemed to be smiling a bit too.

  I had to get out. I had to rescue Clive AND the rest of my pistachio nuts before the Evil Squirrel ruined EVERYTHING!

  I looked at the cat flap. I was pretty sure I could fit through. Yes, no problem.

  Well, there was ONE problem. Maddy’s mum had put a little wooden “doggy gate” in front of it to stop me trying to get outside by myself. This is VERY unfair because Clem is allowed out whenever she wants! She can jump over the little gate no problem at all, but my pug legs are too small and stumpy.

  That’s when I realised that what I needed was a TRAMPOLINE!

  I raced around the house but I couldn’t find one ANYWHERE. (Which was a bit weird. I mean, what kind of house doesn’t have a trampoline?)

  But then my pug brain went WILD and I had one of my

  I’d make my OWN trampoline!

  I pulled ALL the cushions off the sofa and made a cushion tower so that I could bounce over the doggy gate. But I kept falling over before I could reach the top because the cushions were SO ANNOYING and wouldn’t stay in place.

  I got SO MAD at the cushions that I started stomping all over them and shaking them around in my mouth, and throwing myself ALL OVER the place because my plan wasn’t working, and then all of a sudden I heard a CRASH.

  It took me a minute to realise what had happened. I’d had such a big PUG TANTRUM that I’d gone CRASHING through the doggy gate! I was FREE!

  I was so excited that I ran as fast as I could towards the cat flap and leaped through it the way Clem did.

  And that’s when I got stuck.

  I looked up at the Evil Squirrel. He was still staring and munching (evilly).

  “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” I barked at him.

  Just then a large dog with very long hair wandered up to our back fence and the Evil Squirrel disappeared.

  “Hey man,” said Chester. “How you doing?”

  I was pleased to see Chester because he could save me. But he did like to talk quite a lot.

  “Dude!” he said. “Have you heard the big news? I’m sure you have. You’ve probably seen me on the front of the YEAH VEG! dog food in the local health-food shop, right?”

  I had no idea what Chester was talking about.

  Also, I’d like to point out that Chester didn’t even seem to NOTICE that I was trapped. He was too busy talking and talking and TALKING!

  “I’m a full-time model for YEAH VEG! now, Pugs,” he was saying. “It’s pretty awesome. My owner, Leo, makes all the food himself in our kitchen. It’s all real good stuff, man. Full of yummy veggies!”

  “Chester, listen to me,” I said. But it was no use, he wouldn’t stop yapping.

  “I gotta work out in the park at least four times a day to keep in shape,” he continued as he showed me his legs.

  “I do yoga mostly.

  Sometimes I meditate.

  Being a model can be stressful. I need a lot of ‘me time’ before a photoshoot, man.”

  I gave up. Chester wasn’t listening to me at

  “And I’m not ashamed to say I get my hair done every Saturday. A dog’s gotta look nice for the ladies, am I right?!

  “Speaking of ladies, is Clem around? That is one cool cat. I wonder if she likes my new ’do?” Chester said, flicking his long hair around.

  I started barking frantically. “I don’t know where Clem is but I REALLY need to find her, Chester! The Evil Squirrel’s fishnapped Clive and stolen the pistachio nuts and ruined the kitchen and I’m supposed to be on TV tonight with my cake!”

  “WHOA! Dude! That sounds like heavy stuff. You need to CHILLAX. Let me help you.”

  And then Chester jumped over the fence and wandered towards me. FINALLY he was going to stop talking and

  But he didn’t.

  Chester sat down and began crossing his legs in all sorts of weird ways. “You know, ever since we moved here from California, I’ve tried to set a good example to all the dogs in the village,” he said. “They all come to me for advice, you know. They’re like, ‘WOW! Chester, you look amazing, man! What’s your secret? I wanna be just like you! HIGH FIVE!’ And I’m like, ‘You gotta take care of yourselves, guys. Eat right, work out and aim high. Positive vibes, man.’”

  Chester held my paws in his and then closed his eyes. I thought he wa
s going to pull me out. He didn’t.

  “I guess you could call me a role model,” he said. “It’s like I always say, not everyone can be as awesome as me, but it can’t hurt to try!”

  Then Chester EVENTUALLY stopped talking and starting HUMMING. I think he was MEDITATING (whatever that is) and he did it for a really, really, REALLY long time.

  That’s when I realised that I needed a wee! But I was STUCK! I started to panic.

  “Chester!”

  But Chester was humming so loudly he couldn’t even hear me.

  Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. My FRONT half was outside. But my BOTTOM half (including my actual bottom) was still inside the kitchen. I HAD to get out. I wiggled as hard as I could and kicked my little legs like I do when I’m swimming.

  “WHAT are you two doing?” came an angry voice from behind Chester.

  I got SUCH a fright I started weeing.

  It was Clem. I stared at her as I continued to wee on the kitchen floor.

  “And just HOW am I supposed to get back inside NOW?” Clem asked.

  At first I wondered why Clem wasn’t going MAD about me weeing on the kitchen floor (VERY close to her food bowl) but then I realised that she couldn’t see my bottom half through the door. So I could EASILY pretend that I wasn’t weeing.

  “Oh, hey Clem!” said Chester as he jumped up and began swishing his hair all over the place.

  Clem ignored Chester completely and just stared at me without blinking. She was WAY too close to my face.

  “Get. Out. Now,” she said.

  “I can’t! I’M STUCK!”

  “Well, you CAN’T be stuck because it’s MY cat flap and MY bed is in there and I have to take a nap immediately. I’ve just had a large lunch,” she said, licking her whiskers.

  “Dudes, what’s that smell?” said Chester. “Something smells fishy. Not cool.”

  Clem’s tail began flicking again.

  It took me a minute to realise that Chester was talking about the cake. It really DID smell bad.

  “Thank goodness I brought this with me, man,” said Chester as he began spraying himself with perfume. “That bogus smell is getting in my hair.”

  Clem narrowed her eyes at me.

  “We’ll just have to think of something to get you out of there,” she said.

  I sighed with relief. Thank GOODNESS Clem was here! Now maybe I could get her to help me fix the gate and clean up the wee and everything would be OK again. I wouldn’t get told off and I would still be Maddy’s favourite pet. Hooray!

  “Has your lovely cake finished baking?” said Clem, over-nicely.

  I couldn’t BELIEVE I’d forgotten to tell Clem everything that had happened. It was because I was weeing. I always forget what’s going on when I wee. So I concentrated really hard (because I was still doing a wee) and told Clem EVERYTHING. I told her all about the hats that didn’t suit me, and the mess in the kitchen, and the fishnapping, and the smelly cake that I couldn’t fix because of the stolen pistachio nuts, and the Evil Squirrel.

  By the time I’d finished my story I’d also stopped weeing.

  “We need to find Clive RIGHT AWAY!” I said. “The Evil Squirrel has taken him!”

  But Clem didn’t look very upset about ANY of it. She didn’t even BLINK.

  “OK. Close your eyes,” she said. “This is going to hurt.”

  “WHAT?!”

  And then Clem stuck one of her kitty claws RIGHT into my ear!

  “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWW! That HURT! WHAT are you DOING?”

  “I’m trying to unstick you, you silly dog!”

  “How is jabbing your CLAW into my ear going to help?!”

  “Well. I thought it might make you GET BACK INSIDE THE HOUSE WHERE YOU BELONG!”

  “Clem, you’re one tough señorita!” said Chester. “That’s cool. I like it.”

  “Well I DON’T!” I yelled. “And I’m STILL stuck!”

  “Calm down, Pugly. Here, this might help you chillax,” said Chester. And then he sprayed perfume IN MY FACE. The sticky perfume went right up my nose and made me do loads of pug sneezes one after the other. I could hear Clem laughing at me.

  But then I felt a BIG sneeze coming. The kind of sneeze where you just KNOW you better shut your eyes tight or your eyeballs are going to pop out.

  “AAAAACCCCHHHOOOOOOO!”

  I sneezed so hard that I sent myself shooting back into the house. I was FREE!

  “At LAST!” yelled Clem. “Get out of my way, Pugly. I’m coming in!”

  THAT’S when I remembered that I was sitting in a puddle of my own wee (a BIG puddle).

  Uh OH!

  Clem’s face was pure horror as she flew through the cat flap and realised what was about to happen.

  “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” she screeched as she tried to change direction in mid-air.

  But it didn’t work. She landed right in my piddle-puddle!

  Once Clem had hissed at me and run away, I sat in the piddle-puddle for a while trying to think of a BRILLIANT PLAN.

  The kitchen was still a mess and now there was wee all over the floor. The doggy gate was broken, my pistachio nuts were gone, Clive was missing and my cake really did smell fishy! I froze as the penny dropped.

  “SOMEONE’S PUT CLIVE IN THE CAKE!”

  I rushed to the oven and took the cake out again. It still smelled DISGUSTING.

  “CLIVE!” I screamed at the cake. “Are you in there? I’m SO SORRY. Who did this to you? Was it the Evil Squirrel?”

  I looked up at Clive’s tank. He was BACK!

  “CLIVE! I thought the Evil Squirrel had fishnapped you and baked you in my cake!”

  Clive looked confused. He shook his head and pointed to the weeds in his tank. Then he put his fins under his head, closed his eyes and tilted his head like he was sleeping.

  That’s when I realised that Clive HADN’T been fishnapped. He’d just been sleeping in his weeds.

  “My cake smells disgusting. It’s RUINED!” I cried. “Someone must’ve put something yucky in it. I bet it was the Evil Squirrel!”

  Clive started flicking his tail and narrowing his eyes like Clem does.

  “HA! That’s brilliant, Clive. You look just like Clem when you do that,” I said.

  Clive’s eyes went wide and he began nodding furiously.

  And then all of a sudden I realised what Clive had been trying to tell me earlier.

  “Oh, PAWS!” I cried. “It was CLEM, wasn’t it? She

  I should have KNOWN that cheese and tuna and spaghetti and ONIONS don’t belong in a CAKE. She WANTED my cake to be a disaster, didn’t she?”

  Clive nodded.

  “Maddy is going to KILL YOU!” said Clem, appearing from nowhere. “The kitchen is a MESS, you’ve smashed the doggy gate AND you’ve made the MOST DISGUSTING CAKE IN THE WORLD!”

  Before I could answer, I heard a key turn in the lock. I gasped and stared at Clem.

  “This is all your fault, Clem. What if Maddy tries to eat the cake and gets really ill? You have to help me fix this. It’s an EMERGENCY.”

  Clem looked a bit worried then and quick as a flash, she leaped up and knocked Clive’s fish tank off the counter. The water went ALL OVER the cake and it crumbled and dissolved into a horrible puddle on the kitchen floor.

  “CLIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!” I screamed as I watched him fall through the air. I rushed to catch him. But then he did a TRIPLE SOMERSAULT and landed right in the water jug with a loud PLOP!

  I looked back at Clem. Her eyes darted towards the cat flap. I knew EXACTLY what she was thinking. She was going to try to escape so that I would have to take the blame for the tank and all the mess. I knew what I had to do. I looked up at Clive and he winked at me.

  “HA!” I cried as I launched myself at the cat flap. “No way will I let you escape. You’ll have to stay and get the blame for what you’ve done!” Before Clem realised what was happening I had got myself totally stuck. Again.

  I couldn’t see what was happening, of course, because pugs don’t ha
ve eyes in their bottoms, but Maddy must have walked in at that moment because I heard Clem start making pathetic whimpering sounds.

  “CLEMENTINE!” cried Maddy. “What have you

  I barked as loudly as I could and waggled my curly tail to let Maddy know where I was. You know, just in case she didn’t notice my bottom hanging out of the cat flap.

  “Pugly! Are you OK? Oh my goodness!”

  It took Maddy ages to unscrew the cat flap and get me out. When I was back on the other side I got

  Maddy wasn’t mad at me at ALL. But she WAS mad at Clem because she knew that it had been her who knocked over Clive’s fish tank because Maddy is FOREVER telling Clem to stay away from the tank. Clem didn’t get ANY cuddles OR belly rubs!

  Later that night when we were watching TV, Clem came skulking into the room and sat in the corner with her back to us, just staring at the wall, sulking.