“Well,” he drawled, “that was easy.”
“Not really,” groaned Molly who was now REALLY aching. “You see where Peter ended up?”
Buck shook his head. Within the next minute or so, the other three dog versus cat battles ended. It was a clean sweep for the good guys as they beat the cats 5-0. The only damage seemed to be the scratch on Jackie’s hip...
“Not a scratch!” he argued, “it’s a deep, deep, DEEP gash!”
...and the absolutely rancid stench coming off of Duffy. But all things considered, it was a good night for the “Super Powerful Organization of Terriers.”
“And Songbird,” added Duffy as Sasquatch rejoined the team.
Before they could call it “Mission Accomplished” however, there was the matter of the stolen food and Susan’s garden. Molly told the others that she was too tired to chase any more bad mammals. Buck, who was disappointed at not getting a chance to do any actual fighting, volunteered to take care of the raccoons. With that, he stepped over the pile of granola and sports drinks and walked slowly towards the door.
“Shouldn’t you, like, hurry, hurry HURRY?!” yipped Jackie.
“No need,” replied Buck. “With those heavy loads, the raccoons ain’t getting too far. Besides, I need to get prepared.”
With that, Buck began tasting every food that he saw on the floor of the store. He even lapped at some of the spilled buttermilk. None of the other members of S.P.O.T.S. could be sure what the effect of this diverse and fairly disgusting mix of foods would be on Buck’s super breath.
But they could be sure that the next few minutes weren’t going to be very pleasant for the raccoons.
AFTER THE BATTLE
After Buck left, the other Terriers walked through the store for one more quick look. None of them knew when, if ever, they’d be back inside.
As they walked up and down the aisles, they saw that Petunia was still stuck to the floor, Precious was safely trapped under the blood pressure chair and Patches was unconscious under a pile of bottles, cans and boxes. They knew that Puss Puss was off somewhere trying desperately to get clean. They couldn’t find Peter, but they guessed that he’d gone home to lick his wounds and hide under a couch.
The Terriers were so proud of themselves that they thought about leaving some sort of evidence that they’d been the ones who saved the store. Sasquatch however didn’t think the humans who worked at the store would be pleased to find an upside down garbage dumpster, a cat stuck to the floor, another cat trapped under a destroyed blood pressure chair and a third one lying under a small mountain of food and drinks. Add in the rotting, poisoned steaks on the glass-covered floor and the missing food and carts and, well, Sasquatch had a feeling that the Terriers would be smart to be anonymous superheroes for the time being.
Molly and the others took another look around the store and saw that Sasquatch was right. They then rushed out of the store just in case a human was on the way.
Before he flew out, Sasquatch cheeped “goodbye” to the Starlings before pecking off the light.
The Terriers and Sasquatch had just made it across the parking lot when they saw something glowing eerily in the distance. Before Duffy could focus his super vision, Buck moseyed up to them.
“I’m guessing you caught up to the raccoons,” said Molly.
Buck smiled.
“I’ll just say that adding cheese sticks, gravy, tofu, buttermilk and sauerkraut to my stomach is a bad recipe for raccoons.”
“Are they going to be okay?” asked Georgie.
Buck thought for a moment. He then shrugged.
“Does it really matter?”
Sasquatch and the Terriers smiled.
With their first mission a success, and the neighborhood safe, the members of S.P.O.T.S. headed home for a well deserved rest.
Which would unfortunately have to wait until their families stopped yelling at them for running off and smelling like skunks (and buttermilk), and forcing them to take numerous baths. Then, and only then, would they be allowed to get some sleep.
There was also the matter of the unexplainable new holes in the doors of Jackie and Georgie’s homes.
But that’s something that their families would have to figure out on their own.
After all, there’s only so much that a dog can do for its humans.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Franklin Young works and lives in Toronto where he is the proud husband of one, the proud father of two, and the proud companion to a West Highland Terrier who has mastered the Power of Super Snoring.
S.P.O.T.S. (Super Powerful Organization of Terriers and Songbird) Page 9