Badger the Mystical Mutt and the Crumpled Capers

by Lyn McNicol

  Just as he was about to give it up as an impossible job, he was joined by Pickle and Pogo Paws.

  “Haven’t you got it sorted yet, Lennie? Quick! Snif and Timmy will be here soon,” said Pickle.

  “But there’s no way I can reach that,” whimpered Lennie.

  “Leave it to me,” said Pogo Paws, who had spied the tractor tyre from the first task nearby. “It just needs some bounce,” he shouted, as he grabbed the hosepipe, jumped onto the tyre and sprang up into the air.

  He looped the hosepipe easily over the branch and boinged back down.

  “Right, catch both ends, Lennie, and hold onto them. When we give you the nod, pull them down as hard as you can.”

  Lennie crept into position just as Snif and Timmy rounded the corner.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Snif asked Timmy.

  The gang looked at Snif in disbelief.

  “Yes, and maybe then you’ll let me join your gang?” said Timmy. Pogo Paws and Pickle tittered. Lennie sighed.

  As Timmy sized up the old oak tree, Snif caught sight of Lennie out of the corner of his eye.

  “What’s that?” he whispered.

  “A giant cat-a-pult, I think,” said Lennie.

  “Are you impressed, boss? We’ve rigged the tree,” said Pickle smugly.

  “One way or another, Timmy’s going for a long-haul flight today,” added Pogo Paws.

  “But that’s not fair,” cried Snif. “He hasn’t got a chance and, what’s more, it’s dangerous.”

  “Ooooh, sorry! We didn’t think you actually wanted Timmy to succeed, and join our gang,” said Pickle defensively.

  “We thought we were doing really well,” added Pogo Paws.

  “And I just do what I’m told,” said Lennie.

  “Either way, it’s not a fair fight,” said Snif.

  “Right, I’m ready,” shouted Timmy cheerfully. “Pick your branch, gang!”

  Pickle and Pogo Paws pointed up at the booby trapped branch and sniggered.

  Timmy started to scale the tree’s trunk and was creeping carefully onto its lower branches. Pogo Paws and Pickle put their paws round the bottom and tried to shake the tree.

  “I can’t watch this,” sighed Snif.

  “Come on, Timmy. You can get higher than that,” taunted Pickle.

  “Maybe the fresh air up there will stop your sneezing,” added Pogo Paws.

  Just then, Timmy sneezed … then sneezed again … and then again. Pogo Paws and Pickle managed to dodge the fallout of snot. They looked over at Lennie who was holding the hosepipe, covered in a slimy green mess.

  “Nice one, Timmy,” shouted Pickle. “Now, see that branch up there to the left? There’s a sprig of mistletoe just there which I think will be perfect.”

  “Yes, if you can get that one,” added Pogo Paws, “I’m sure Snif will let you join our gang.” He looked over to his leader for approval but Snif just walked away.

  He didn’t want to see the brave, innocent little cat hurt himself; not in his name. “There’s a big difference between bravery and bravado,” he thought.

  As Timmy crawled along the branch towards the sprig of mistletoe, Snif headed in a different direction altogether, towards the frozen duck pond.

  “Badger was right,” he thought. “This is all wrong.”

  Suddenly, Snif skidded and landed on his tummy. His snout was flat to the ground as he raced across the ice.

  All Snif heard next was a crack as the ice below him broke. He yelped at the shock of the icy water on his body. He thrashed and gasped, flailing helplessly as the depths of winter sucked him under … and under.

  Then all was silent.

  At the old oak tree, Timmy crept along the branch.

  “Pull it tighter now, Lennie!” spat Pickle.

  As Lennie pulled the hosepipe ends taut, the branch pointed downwards. Timmy lost his balance and slithered nose-first towards the mistletoe. He clung on bravely.

  “Where’s Snif?” shouted Pogo Paws.

  “I don’t know,” said Pickle. “But he’s missing the best bit.”

  “He left ages ago,” called Lennie.

  In Badger’s garden, the Mystical Mutt was snoozing, but the commotion from the other end of the lane woke him with a start.

  “This has got to be something involving Timmy,” he thought. He straightened his legs, shimmied his bottom and flew off to investigate.

  Still not good with landings, Badger arrived with a bump at the tree where the gang were gathered, right next to Lennie’s makeshift catapult.

  The surprise of Badger’s sudden arrival startled Lennie who immediately let go of the hosepipe. The branch sprung upwards with an almighty ping and sent Timmy soaring into the sky at the same time as the gang scarpered.

  “Where did everyone go?” said Badger aloud, to the emptiness around him.

  He sniffed the tree and picked up Timmy’s scent, then saw the branch with the hosepipe hanging from it limply.

  “Uh oh! I’m sensing that Timmy has been here. But where is he now? It’s time to consult my all-seeing toast.”

  Timmy had landed slam-bang in the middle of the frozen duck pond. Luckily, he had fallen on a patch of thick ice. Surefooted as ever, he picked himself up and, using his claws as crampons, made his way across the ice to where there was a large gaping hole.

  His six and a half senses prickled. Something was very, very wrong. He peered into the blackness of the water, and was sure he could see a few bubbles.

  “Oh no, surely not!” gasped Timmy, as he teetered over the edge and saw a shadow floating lifelessly just beneath the surface of the water.

  The Mystical Mutt had just one remaining slice of precious toast hidden away in his garden. He pulled it out and examined it closely. Could the toast tell him the whereabouts of his friend Timmy?

  “Come on, Toast, show me the place where Timmy has gone. Please show his face!”

  At the duck pond, Timmy took a deep breath and plunged his paws into the icy water. He flinched as he touched Snif’s wet fur.

  “Snif! Snif!” he shouted, but the dog didn’t respond.

  Timmy had to act, and quickly. He undid his own collar and felt around for the old piece of rope around Snif’s neck.

  With one paw, he caught hold of the sodden rope and looped his collar around it. Then, he looked around for a sturdy branch to grab onto with his other paw, and pulled on the rope with all his might.

  Slowly, the limp lump of fur came to the surface.

  Timmy jumped back from the tree, still hanging on to his collar and edged forward to the hole in the ice. As he grabbed hold of Snif’s shoulders, his own collar, with his prized Badger badge attached, fell into the depths below.

  Inch by inch, he heaved Snif’s heavy form out of the water and up onto the ice. He pushed and pushed until they were both clear of the danger and on the grassy verge.

  Timmy listened at Snif’s chest for a heartbeat.

  Suddenly, a big dark shadow loomed over them. Timmy looked up to see Badger hovering above.

  “I came as soon as I could,” panted Badger. “The toast showed me where you were. Oh my goodness, what have you got here? Is that Snif?”

  “Quick!” said Timmy “He needs a miracle and some of your Badgical-Magical healing.”

  Badger landed swiftly and, for once, without a thump. He took one look at Snif.

  “Stand back,” he said. “This is a job for ’Chief.”

  He tapped his neckerchief urgently and said, “Show koo ray, show koo ray, show koo ray. Revitalise our friend, before he fades away.”

  ’Chief flew immediately off Badger’s neck and started billowing over Snif.

  “That’s the kiss of life,” said Badger as sparkles of light twinkled around him. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

  They both watched anxiously as ’Chief continued its mission to revive Snif.

  After what seemed like an age, ’Chief finished its task and formed a blanket over Snif.


  Badger and Timmy laid their heads against his fur and listened.

  His heartbeat was weak and faint, but at last, Snif was breathing.

  “Right,” said Badger relieved. “Let’s get you both back to my garden for some hot toast and blankets. Hop on.”

  ’Chief wrapped himself around Snif to form a sling. Badger straightened his legs, wiggled his bottom and took off, pulling Timmy and Snif along below him.

  When they arrived in the garden, Badger ran inside to his Big Folk’s house and appeared moments later, carrying warm fluffy blankets and a pile of toast dripping with butter.

  “Into the shed, both of you!” he ordered.

  Inside, with their teeth chattering and their bodies shivering, they wrapped the blankets around them, and chomped on the toast hungrily.

  Snif, who had come round a bit, thanked Timmy for his bravery, and Badger for his neckerchief.

  “Timmy, where’s your collar? And your Badger badge?” asked Badger.

  Timmy shrugged his shoulders. “I had to use it to rescue Snif, and it fell into the hole in the ice. There wasn’t any time to try and find it. I’m sorry, Badger.”

  “Don’t worry, Timmy. I think you had more important things to think about,” said Badger kindly.

  Snif looked apologetically at Timmy and they all munched on some more toast.

  “Oh!” said Badger in surprise, “Snif’s ears have turned purple.”

  Snif raised a weary paw to touch them. “I can’t feel them,” he said. “They’re numb. It’s probably the cold.”

  “Don’t rub them,” warned Timmy, “otherwise you could end up with crumpled ears too.”

  “If I had even half of your courage, I’d be happy with a couple of crumpled ears,” said Snif yawning. “It doesn’t matter what you look like in order to shine. It’s what’s in your heart that matters.”

  And with that, Snif fell fast asleep.

  “Oh dear!” said Badger. “I think Jack Frost has had a nip of Snif’s ears. We’re going to have to warm them up slowly to stop severe frostbite, otherwise he’ll lose them.”

  As Snif slept soundly, Badger set to work. He tapped his neckerchief again and asked it to form a heated bandage around their friend’s ears.

  “’Chief, ’Chief, wrap up Snif’s lugs. Keep them warm and give them hugs.”

  Badger’s neckerchief unfurled dutifully from his neck and wrapped itself around Snif’s ears. As Timmy and Badger snuggled in for the night, only morning would tell whether Snif would be dog-eared and crumpled … or not.

  The next morning, Snif woke first. He was groggy and thirsty and felt something on his head. He reached up and touched what seemed like a bandage around his ears. He quickly remembered the events of the day before.

  Badger, who had been keeping a watchful eye on Snif throughout the night, said, “Let’s take a look at your ears.”

  Snif grimaced as Badger and Timmy took an ear each and gently removed the neckerchief bandage, worried as to what they might see.

  “The tips look fine,” said Badger, unwrapping a little bit more.

  “The fur seems soft enough,” said Timmy.

  “Uh oh!” said Badger. “This one looks a bit blue.”

  “And this one is covered in blisters,” said Timmy.

  “Can you feel that, Snif?” asked Badger, poking a paw into his ear.

  “Ouch, yes!” yelped Snif.

  “Well, that’s a good sign. I think you’ll be back to normal in a day or so. ‘Chief has done an amazing job,” sighed Badger in relief.

  “Good work,” he said to ’Chief as it shook itself out and wrapped back around the Mystical Mutt’s neck.

  “No crumpledness at all,” joked Timmy.

  “Now, ’Chief and I have to go and see about something very important. I’ll leave you two here to have breakfast. There’s still some toast left from last night, and there’s water in that dish in the corner,” said Badger.

  Badger slipped through the crack in the fence and into the lane where he spotted Pogo Paws, Pickle and Lennie with their heads down.

  They seemed to be on a trail and were engrossed in following a scent. He shook his head and carried on.

  “We need to find him. He’s been missing now for a day and a night,” said Pickle.

  “I think Timmy has kidnapped him,” said Pogo Paws.

  “Why would he do that?” asked Lennie.

  “Zip it, Lennie!” sighed Pickle and Pogo Paws together.

  “Right, we need to arm ourselves. This could be war,” snarled Pogo Paws.

  “Yes, dogs against cats. Let’s settle this once and for all,” growled Pickle.

  “Oh, are we dressing up?” asked Lennie excitedly.

  Pogo Paws and Pickle looked at Lennie in despair, before they all headed off to the bins to see what they could find.

  In the shed, Timmy and Snif shared a few slices of cold toast.

  “I’m so sorry about the way I’ve been treating you, Timmy. How can I ever thank you for saving my life yesterday?” asked Snif.

  “I’m sure you would have done exactly the same, if you’d been in my position,” said Timmy modestly.

  Snif shrugged and said, “I suppose we don’t know how we’ll react until we’re in that situation, but I know how much cats hate water.”

  “It’s not exactly my favourite place to be, especially not freezing cold water, but I didn’t have any choice.”

  “Well, I feel like doing something to show the others that cats and dogs can be pals,” said Snif firmly.

  “Can’t we just be pals?” said Timmy.

  “But you are such a hero, and you lost your badge too. I think it’s important that everyone knows about your bravery. It’s time to banish the age-old myth that dogs and cats loathe each other.”

  “What about the rest of the gang?” asked Timmy.

  “Them?” snorted Snif. “I don’t know why you wanted to be part of us? I’m ashamed to have been their leader.”

  “Aren’t you still their leader?”

  “No. As of this moment, I resign,” said Snif decisively.

  In the lane, Pogo Paws, Pickle and Lennie had donned their armour and chosen their weapons. They soon picked up Snif’s scent and headed straight for the shed in Badger’s garden.

  Meanwhile, Badger was making his way to the duck pond. When he arrived, Badger held his neckerchief in his paw and addressed it solemnly.

  “It’s going to be dark, it’s going to be wet, and it’s going to be freezing, but I’m afraid I have to ask this of you, ’Chief.”

  He laid his neckerchief on the ice and said: “’Chief, ’Chief, dive down deep, and fetch Timmy’s collar back to keep.”

  ’Chief flew across the ice and plunged into the deep black hole.

  Snuggled up in the shed, Snif was still thinking about what to do to bring cats and dogs together.

  “If you’re really serious, Snif, then we could set up some kind of place, where both cats and dogs could go, to maybe get some food and find some company if they’re a bit lonely,” suggested Timmy.

  “Perfect. Like a drop-in centre?” said Snif excitedly.

  Just then, Badger returned from his business with ’Chief.

  “Brrrr!” said Badger shivering. “I need to dry out my neckerchief.”

  He hung his beloved neckerchief over a hook on the back of the door.

  “There,” said Badger throwing Timmy his collar. “That’s all we could find, I’m afraid. Your badge is long gone.”

  “Thanks, Badger, and thank you, ’Chief, for trying. Never mind, at least I’ve got my collar back,” said Timmy gratefully.

  Suddenly, the door was booted open and there stood three warriors ready for battle. Pogo Paws had a big silver sieve on his head, and raised a rolling pin high. Pickle held out a black bin lid as a shield, and had an old dishcloth tied around her head. Lennie was wearing a plant pot as a hat and was wrapped in shiny tinfoil.

  “Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa hh!” the
y roared. “We’ve come to save you, Snif.”

  Badger, Timmy and Snif stopped their cheerful chat and looked up in amazement.

  “Save him from what?” asked Badger.

  “So, Snif,” spat Pickle, “you’ve not been in danger at all? You’ve just been busy, cosying up with your new best friends?”

  “After all we’ve done for you, this is how you repay us?” snarled Pogo Paws.

  “I’ve been terribly worried about you,” added Lennie.

  “Zip it, Lennie!” said Pickle and Pogo Paws together.

  Suddenly, Pogo Paws charged towards Badger, Timmy and Snif, brandishing his rolling pin.

  Snif stood up tall and placed himself between the rolling pin and Badger and Timmy.

  “Drop it now and step away from the rolling pin,” barked Snif.

  Pogo Paws laid down his weapon and backed off. Pickle kept hold of her bin lid shield, and Lennie began to peel off his tinfoil.

  “Yes, this is where I’ve been. And if you knew anything at all, you would know why. While you were so busy trying to destroy Timmy yesterday, he was busy trying to save my life,” continued Snif.

  Pogo Paws and Pickle looked at each other, not quite sure what to say. Lennie, who was lurking at the back, simply said, “Nice one, Timmy.”

  “In fact, now is probably a good time to tell you, I’m not your leader any more. You’re on your own. I resign.”

  A month later, when the bitter frost had become less bitter, Badger was on his way to see Timmy and Snif.

  Ahead of him in the lane, he spied Pickle, Pogo Paws and Lennie. Pickle threw a scrunched-up paper ball behind her before running on with the others. Badger tutted at Pickle’s littering, and stopped to pick it up.

  He smoothed out the paper ball and read aloud:

  “Today, you are cordially invited to the Grand Opening of PLOPP, the new local drop-in centre for The Peaceful Living Organisation for Pooches and Pussycats”