Animal City

CHAPTER ONE

The alarm on the bedside table went off and Dirk knew that it was the time to get up. Starting a new day wasn’t the easiest thing for him to do. However, he knew that once he got started with something, he could continue with it more easily than stating something else again.
He slid out of bed and made his way to the shower. On his way, he looked in the mirror. Did he look older today? Dirk thought he noticed a few grey hairs which weren’t there last week. No matter, there was nothing he or anyone else could do about getting older. Everyone was born, everyone got older, and eventually everything died. The best that anyone could do was just to do the best that anyone could do.
Dirk was dissatisfied with his hair. He thought that with all of shampoo and time that he spent with it, his hair should be perfect. However, he had come to terms with the reality that his hair would never be quite the way he wanted it. At least it wasn’t falling out like some other poor creature. He would rather have a few bad hair days than a bad hair life.
As he bathed in the shower, he felt like he was in a different world. For a few minutes each day, he could just forget about all of his cares and relax. He wondered if the opposite was true for fish, who spent most of their lives in water and rarely came up for air. They didn’t relax when taken out of the water. They struggled for life and died if they were not put back in. so, maybe there was something about the water itself. No life that he knew of could live without it. He loved water. He loved the way water separated him form reality. He liked they way it helped him cleanse his body.
He wondered what new challenges the day would bring. He wondered if he would learn anything new about his place in the world. What would be his destiny today? Could he make a difference in this world?
He thought of his family. How quickly his three young ones were growing up. It had seemed to be only yesterday when each one was so small he could hold them so easily. However, such moments pass so quickly and time flew by faster than he liked.
Dirk feel that he shouldn’t think too much about the past. The past was done and gone, so only the future really mattered. He knew that he couldn’t do anything about where he had come from. He could only affect where he was going.
Sometimes, he wasn’t sure he even had any control over his life. So much of his time was regulated between his commitment to his family and to his job. Dirk rarely noticed any opportunity to make the kind of a difference he thought that he had the kind of potential to make.
Still, he thought about his sleeping wife in the bedroom and the young ones still asleep in the other rooms. Surely, he made a difference in their lives as they had made a difference in his.
He liked to reminisce, but he had to hurry or he just had enough time to get dressed, grab some breakfast, and be ready in time for his ride.
Dirk looked at himself confidently in the mirror. “I’m an ass kicker, not an ass licker.” He thought. “I’m going to shake the world and not let it shake me. I’m gong to do it to others before they do it to me. Smooth, aggressive, intelligent, good-looking,…boy, I am one top dog!” And he was.
He heard two honks outside and realized that Rick was ready to pick him up. Rick was a rat, but he was not a typical rat. He was a good guy. Dirk knew enough to judge others by their actions, not by who they were.
Dirk entered the car and he and Rick engaged in some small talk as they took the usual drive to work. Rick could be talkative at times, but often conversations with him could have a pessimistic tone.
Sometimes, Rick would complain about public perception of rats, discrimination against rats, and other special problems of rodents. He would often be irked if he overheard someone refer to him when saying, “Here comes that rat.” Or “There goes that rat.” Or “I can’t stand working with that rat.”
Despite his station in life, Rick still appeared to be proud that he was a member of the rodentia family. Lately, he had adopted an attitude of service to others as he had learned from a book by the Chinese philosopher, Mouse Say Dung. Dirk was a beneficiary of this generosity. Rick continued to take the dog to work while the greasy monkeys tried to repair Dirk’s car.
One thing Dirk would always remember about Rick was his amusing observations about his place in the world. He once recalled that Rick said that he didn’t mind being a rat because it gave him an advantage in the rat race of life. “And only a rat can win that race” Rick chuckled.
This day, Rick discussed the values of a movie he had recently seen on cable.
“I saw a movie last night called Obscene Proposal. Ever see it?” He asked.
“No, I don’t believe so. Was it any good?” Dirk replied.
“Oh, not too bad.” Rick mused. “It starred Rabbit Rudford and Bunny Moor. Anyway, the plot of the movie was that this billionaire, Rudford, wants to sleep with the Bunny character. However, she is hitched to someone else so Rudford offers the couple a million carrots to have her for one night.”
“Wow! Sounds incredible!” exclaimed Dirk.
“Yeah, well maybe they should have called the story Unbelievable Proposal or Unlikely Proposal instead.” Said Rick without hiding any cynicism in his voice. “The whole idea was a little hard for me to swallow. But it’s just a movie, so I didn’t take it too seriously. Anyway, I don’t want to give away too much of the plot. However, in the end, it’s kind of funny because this guy must be the only one in the world to pay a million for a girl and still make her feel cheap!” Rick chuckled his little rat chuckle.
“Anyway, another movie I have seen recently was called The Big Boar. It was about a wild killer pig. This show came out some time ago and since then the company has come out with several sequels including, An Even Bigger Boar and The Biggest Boar You’ve Ever Seen. With titles like those, I’m surprised anyone would even watch them at all. I guess it takes one to entertain one.” Rick snickered and ate some cheese cubes.
Dirk was about to make a comment about the move and Rick, but he wisely withheld it. Why insult his benefactor? While Rick continued to drabble on about other movies he had seen, Dirk looked out the window at the sights and sounds of Animal City.
A flock of geese were racing around in the sports car, honking as loud as possible. All of the cars were racing past a junker driven by a sloth in the slow lane. Rick was making good time as they passed a goat driving a salvage truck, an anteater in a pest control van, and a car full of cats in business suits.
As they passed the felines, Dirk noticed that one of them threw some trash out the window onto the highway.
“Kitty litter!” Rick remarked and laughed.
Dirk nodded his head in agreement. He declined to ask Rick’s opinion on cats.
As the car drove to the heart of the city, Dirk could see all kinds of signs that everyone was preparing for a new day. Monkeys were climbing on the skyscrapers, cleaning windows. A scraggly looking Opossum was picking up trash with a pointed stick.
The car pulled into a parking garage and Dirk thanked his benefactor profusely for the ride.
“Don’t mention it. It was my pleasure.” said Rick. “Just remember, you can always count on a rat.”
Dirk would never forget that line.
He and Rick started walking the two blocks to their jobs at the Animal City News. Along the way, they passed a number of interesting characters. A large elephant was lugging his trunk (or should I say his suitcase?) along the sidewalk. Carrier pigeons were making their early morning mail deliveries. A pair of cheetahs were showing off their speed by jogging at a park across the street.
Dirk and his friend entered their building and stopped by the receptionist’s desk.
“Good morning, beautiful.” The rat greeted her. “What’s the biggest news of the day?”
Gertie, an Ostritch, looked at Rick distainfully. “A flood on Rodent Island killed then animals. They drowned like rats.” She watched in satisfaction as the rat stormed off to his department.
Dirk made his way to his desk and listened to some of the messages on his answering machine. The first recording sounded like a lot of squeaks from a dolphin. He didn’t speak dolphin, so he ignored it. The second message was from Attilla the Hen, who had an appointment with him that morning. Attilla had apparently set a new egg-laying record by laying 100 eggs in 100days. There were a few extra details Dirk wanted to get from her before printing this sensational story.
The third message was from an Infernal Revenue Surface agent demanding that he attend an audit of his finances scheduled for next week. The dog wasn’t looking forward to this meeting. He felt that this investigation would surely cost him a paw and a leg in his bank account.
The fourth message was just a lot of chirping and singing. He guessed that it was either an unidentifiable bird call or a bird impersonator, in which case, it was another crank. Still, it reminded him of a friend who used to do such imitations. This dog, called Fido, was a top bird impersonator until he was tragically killed after jumping out of a window in an attempt to learn how to fly.
The fifth message was also mysterious and intriguing. The voice on the tape spoke in a series of hushed whispers, and mumbled something about a possible major scandal which could lead to the highest levels of the Animal City government. However, the caller did not identify himself, but said that he would call back again. He did leave a number of squeaks, grunts, and shrieks at the end of the recording to give Dirk a slight clue as to his identity. The dog listened to the tape carefully and was certain he was dealing with a weasel.
Now Dirk had nothing against weasels, however, they were critters perhaps unfairly maligned by their reputations. Other than the fact that many of them were treacherous, low down, cowardly, conniving, rascally, backstabbing, double-crossing, lying, good-for-nothing, self-serving scum, Dirk had nothing against them.
Still, he had to consider everything he had heard about them before actually dealing with one. Among the many sayings he had heard about weasels were: Never trust a weasel with your life or your wife, the only thing a weasel is good for is weasel stew, and better to make a deal with the devil than with a weasel.
Ever after hearing all of that, Dirk believed that he shouldn’t prejudge this source. Maybe this was an honest weasel. Yeah, right. And maybe the world would end tomorrow, and maybe the sun would explode, and maybe the moon was really made our of green cheese. He’d give this guy no more rope than it took to hang him.
For the time being, there was nothing he could do except wait for the hen and maybe write a column in the meantime.
He considered the various topics for an editorial. Should he write about discrimination against rats in the workplace? Rick could help him make that into a series. Or maybe he could do an expose about animals who secretly eat other animals. That would take some research. He felt that he might have trouble finding willing informants to supply him with enough information on this touchy, controversial subject.
Perhaps he could do a commentary on some major issue f the day. Dirk briefly considered doing a piece on the story of a local physician, Dr.Mallard Failmore, who was accused of being a quack. Failmore was currently ducking charges that he ran a wombs for rent surragette egg donor agency in full violation of International Animal Rights Ethics Codes. No, that subject was just too hot to go into right now.
Maybe he could do a human interest story. He could easily write about the special problems of animals who were not well suited for their career goals. He knew of horses who wanted to be jockeys, elephants who wanted t be ballet dancers, snails who wanted to be track stars, snakes who wanted to play basketball, dolphins who wanted to be airline pilots, birds who wanted to be scuba divers, fleas who wanted to be circus aerialists, and so many other lost souls.
He decided to pass some time while making up his mind by reading the latest obituaries. He turned to the section in his paper and carefully scanned the listings. The lead obit was on Riverts, the king of the frogs, who had recently croaked.
As he read the notices, he tried to think of more imaginative ways the deaths could be announced. Why just say someone died when you could make their passing memorable and meaningful? Maybe they could write that Bessie the cow had kicked the bucket or that Ben the Buffalo finally cashed in his chips. If a fly got done in by a fan, you could say that he was “resting in pieces.” If the deceased was an earthworm, you could say he’d be “pushing up daisies.” Snakes would bite the dust. Oxen would buy the farm. Lemmings who threw themselves into holes would be committing “sweercide.” Kangaroos would kick off.
He looked over the listings one more time. No, he didn’t see anyone he h\knew there today. For a moment, he imagined what his own obit might look like there. But he didn’t really want to think about that too much so he soon put the idea out of his mind.
Dirk turned his mind to more pleasant thoughts. He reached out and held the picture of his wife and their three pups. How he loved that bitch!
He remembered all of the things he had tried to do in order to give his family a better life than the one he had endured so long ago. They had a nice house in the suburbs with plenty of fire hydrants nearby. They were close to some friendly neighbors who didn’t mind if they felt like barking a lot because they were a couple of old deaf snakes. The two older pups went to a new obedience school only a few blocks away and were rapidly learning the important dogmas of their society. His old lady was happy she didn’t have to work and had plenty of time to devote to her TV programs. It’s a Dog’s Life, One lie to live, Mutt’s Landing, Some Other World, Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, Gone with the whippet, and others. His favorite shows were Leave it to the Beagle, Terrier in the Skies!, The Spaniel Inquistition, the Hounds of Silence, Wide Retriever for the Browns, and Dog God.
“So, sport, what’s up with you today?”
Eager Beaver, the mailroom clerk, had interrupted his train of daydreaming.
Dirk struggled to try to think of a response. Torn between giving a pleasant answer and telling how he really felt, he decided to go with the latter.
“Oh, I’m fine, I guess.” He replied. “All in all, things are pretty much O.K.”
the telephone rang.
“Hello, Dirk the Dog.”
“Hello, Dirk. This is Babcock the Rooster. I understand that you were scheduled to have an interview with an employee of mine, A Miss Attilla the Hen. Is that correct?”
The dog felt a little worried. If anyone had a nose for news, it was him. However, he could also smell trouble a mile away. So he knew that if trouble was some ant waste, he was about to find himself in the middle of the world’s largest manure farm.
“You are correct about the interview. As a matter of fact, I was expecting Miss Hen to come in any minute. Is this call regarding her?’
“Precisely.” Continued the cock. “I regret to have to inform you that she will not be able to make your meeting. I’m sorry to say that the lady in question has passed on.”
Dirk was stunned for a few seconds, but quickly recovered. “Why, that’s sad. How on earth did it happen?”
“Well, according to what her doctor told me…The chanticleer paused briefly. “Anyway, Dr. Quack said that she expired as a result from complications form a pregnancy involving quintuplets. You might say she eggspired.”
“Eggsactly!” Dirk added. “I mean precisely.” “That’s a shame, if you want I’ll transfer you to the obituary department.” A teardrop almost formed in his eye. How he hated to lose a good story!
“No, that won’t be necessary, they already have the information. I just wanted you to know about her situation. I myself shall miss her dearly. She was my greatest producer. There will never be another like her. If you’ll excuse me, I have several more bird calls to make. Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
Dirk heard a click and realized that the call had ended.
Now that that story had laid an egg, he thought that he should take a look at the obituaries and if anyone else he had known had died recently.
The death notices didn’t tell him anything that he really wanted to know. The lead story was that Jumper, the king of the toads, had croaked. That article didn’t say much about the circumstances of his demise. Dirk suspected that some crafty crane, stalking stork, or felonious flamingo had something to do with it.
Dirk decided that the best use of his time for the present would be to write an editorial. But what should he write about? He was tempted to write a movie review. He’d recently seen a film called “Standing Bear.” No, he better not do that one, he thought. He certainly had more taste than to write about a big hairy exhibitionist!
He started writing something about a musical he had attended the previous week. That show was called “The Dogs.” He had forgotten most of the story, but it had had an all canine cast and they were great. Dirk described it as “doggone good” and “a real dog of a show.” He mentioned that the inside buzz was tat all Broadway was going to “The Dogs.”
The telephone rang.
“Hello, Animal City News. Dirk the dog speaking.”
“Hello, Dirk? This is …well, I can’t exactly tell you who I am.”
Dirk tried to understand his predicament. However, he did not really like dealing with unidentified sources. They were usually unreliable
“I’m sorry, but our policy is…”
“I don’t care what your policy is!” the voi8ce snapped back. “My very life would be danger if I revealed my name to you now. I just need someone to believe my story and tell the world of the vicious conspiracy which threatens this whole world.” The called seemed to whimper helplessly.
“Oh, no!” thought the dog. This may be just another one of those publicity hounds who think that everyone else in the world is just out to get him.
“Maybe you should be talking to the police.” Dirk responded.
“No, I can’t trust them.” The voice quivered. “They might just as well lock me up instead of the beasts I’m trying to expose. Can’t I meet you some place and discuss this privately?”
Dirk was just about to hang up on the fellow, but something made him keep hanging on just a little longer.
“Look, I usually conduct all interviews in the office…”
“Look, if you want my story, I’ll bee at the Mole Hole bar at one o’clock. Otherwise, you can just miss the biggest scoop of your career.”
Dirk heard a distinct click at the end of the line and realized that the call had been cut off.
Although he believed that the whole spiel was some type of crock, Dirk couldn’t dismiss it completely. After all, the club was only a few blocks away and he had no other plans for lunch. If nothing else came out of it, the experience still might provide enough information for an editorial chastising publicity hounds.
There were still a few more hours to kill before lunchtime. Just before he was about to write something, the telephone rant.
“Hello?”
“Good Morning, Bob Bull here from Big Bull Securities. Have I got a deal for you today. I have a line on some stock that’s so hot it’s just burning up the charts…”
“Uh, No thanks! Goodbye!” Dirk quickly slammed the phone down. He felt that he’d had enough bull for now judging by the previous performances of his investments. He knew that there was no bull like the biggest and that the market was full of bull oft the moment.
He knew that if he wanted to make a small fortune in the day’s market all he needed was to start out with a large one! If he got a broker, then that’s what he’d be!
“So busy at work now?”
Dirk looked up to see Radger the Badger glaring over him. The rodent’s teeth gleamed brightly in the morning light.
“Yes sir! I’m doing the best I can the best way I can do it!” the dog tried to look busy, but in his eagerness to please his boss, he knocked over a large pile of papers from his desk onto the floor.
Dirk tried to catch the sheets before they made a beg mess, but instead he lost his balance and fell out of his chair as the papers settled around him in a big heap.
The badger was hardly bothered “keep up the good work” he said as he walked away. “Busy paws are happy paws.”
While Dirk was gathering up the mess, he noticed that one of his memos was a press release from the day before. It was about a debate over a bill in the House of Animals. Jesse Jackass of the Dumbocratic Party firmly opposed the bill. Elie Phant of the Reflubbagain Party firmly supported the bill. The bill was not about any important matter. Only how the politicians fought over it was the only matter of importance.
All of the papers were stacked in a pile and placed precariously, just like before on his desk. Dirk though that he’d finally found the time to write that editorial. He began.
He looked at his watch and suddenly realized that the last two hours had disappeared as though only a few minutes had passed by. There was about half an hour to go before one o’clock. Dirk was getting that hungry feeling. How nice it would be to knaw on some fresh, meaty bones!
So what should he do for lunch? He thought about the usual places to go. There was the Stork Club, the Lion’s Den, the Snake Pit, the Rat shack, The Mouse House, The Bear’s Lair, The Bee’s Hive, (Although he had only visited that place once and would never go back again. He kept getting stung by the other customers!) The Sparrow’s Nest, and The Doghouse.
However, this time he decided to pass over the familiar places in favor of the Mole Hole. It wasn’t his first choice for a meeting place, but at least he wouldn’t be as embarrassed as if he had to go to the Pink Flamingo Club. He was concerned what people might think if they saw him coming out of there.
Dirk left the building and started walking to the place, which was only a few blocks away. The day was bright and sunny and gave him the feeling that something good could happen soon.
As he walked down the sidewalk, he observed several characters busily going about their businesses. A crab was working in a barbershop. He was using his claws to snip away at the hair of his clients. Some hairy customers including two baboons, a gorilla, and a unkempt looking warthog waited for their turns nearby.
A peacock was setting up a display in the window of her fashion boutique. A sign in the window said “Feather your nest with Monica’s best.” She appeared to be trying to wrestle some clothes onto a mannequin.
A skunk in a bright red dress passed by. Whew! Too much perfume!
He turned onto the street where the bar was and was surprised at how seedy that part of the neighborhood looked. Trashed was strewn everywhere. Broken bottles, cardboard boxes, paper plates, plastic cups, and other assorted junk was lying all over the sidewalk and in the gutters.
Dirk had to step around a large rhino who was sleeping on the payment in the shade. Several empty bottles lay by his side and the beast smelled like he hadn’t been sober in several years.
“Must be a winoceros.” The dog thought as he tried to avoid eye contact.
One bull in raggedy clothes was talking to a similarly dressed sparrow.
“All my life I was given the bum steer.” He complained. “And so, that’s what I am now!”
“I understand.” His drinking mate replied. “I’m a former jailbird myself.”
He found the Mole Hole’s m\name aptly described the bar. It was one. The place was so run down, it looked like it had never had any better days, only bitter days.
Dirk entered the hole and found it as dark as a cave. He noticed that there were some lights in the distance and headed toward them.
Dirk found a table next to a lighted stage. A waitress came over to him and he ordered a cocktail. He wasn’t sure he would get his drink because the waitress was a turtle.
Having nothing better to do than to wait for an informant who might or might not show up, Dirk looked around the bar at the various characters. A group of elephants was sitting nearby, enjoying a few beers. One of them bragged about how much money he made when he sold his tusks. His gold tusk caps gleamed in the dim light.
He was feeling a little hungry. He thought that the might order some lobster. However, he noticed that a lobster at a nearby table wasn’t getting anyone to wait on him, so Dirk guessed that the place didn’t serve any lobsters.
There was a western soap opera playing on a big screen TV nearby. It was called Dog’s City. Two mutts were about to face off in a gun battle on the main street when one of them said, “This Kennel ain’t big enough for the two of us.” Dirk was interested in the show, but one of the elephants changed the channel to coverage of the Repachederm National Convention.
Three bucks at a nearby table were getting so rowdy that they started butting themselves and the chandeliers. A fierce-looking wolverine growled at the trio to take their row outside. The group left without incident as one of proclaimed loudly, “I want you fellows to meet a dear deer friend of mine..” They started singing “Rudoph” as they stumbled out the door.
Suddenly, some loud sounds of music blared up and a band near the stage began to play. A monkey beat wildly on his drum set. He used his tail to pound a big, bass snare. An English goat was blowing his French horn. An elephant was tickling the ivories on a piano nearby. He stared intently at the keys, as if he had seen what had become of his own tusks. A hepcat jammed on the bass.
A mouse in a tuxedo strolled up onto the stage and made an announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Mole Hole, where the fine dine, the upper class pass the gas, and the elite meet to eat.”
“Our guest singer this afternoon is a young lady from the Catskills. Please give a warm welcome to Miss Kitty Litter!”
As the singer slunk onto the stage, Dirk believed he had never seen such a cat. Miss Litter was dressed I a tight pink silk dress with a fluffy pink boa wrapped around her shoulders. She had long blind hair like the Venus de Meow. Her fishnet stockings clung to lets which seemed t go on forever. For a fleeting moment, the dog wished that he was a free feline instead of a married mutt.
She broke into a song called “The Cat I Love.” And did more than enough to try to get Dirk’s attention. She fluttered her little kitty eyelashes at him, winked her eye at him, and threw her boa onto his head. Dirk looked around nervously to see if anyone he knew was watching him in this compromising position. Fortunately, all of patrons looked at him as though he was anonymous. Miss Litter was getting all of the attention.
She finished her number and the audience broke into a thunderous applause.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you ! You’re such a purrrr-fect audience! I love you all!” She exclaimed as she blew kisses to them and exited behind the curtain.
He had ordered another drink and was wondering whether or not he should high tail it out of the place when he heard a slight whispering sound.
“Psssst!” It whispered.
Dirk didn’t immediately see anyone nearby trying to get his attention so he ignored it.
“Pssssst!” There it went again.
He looked around carefully. Was someone attempting to get his attention or was he just imagining the sound?
At that moment, the dog felt something shake beneath the table. He raised the cloth and soon had his answer.
A very timid-looking creature in a long black overcoat was crouched below. Dirk couldn’t identify what kind of animal he was seeing because the character wore a dark ski mask and remained in the shadow.
“Who are you and what are you doing?” The dog snapped indignantly. For a second, he thought that he was about to be pick pocketed by a kangaroo rat.
“Oh, please excuse me, my dear sir.” The pitiful creep at least appeared somewhat apologetic for his unorthodox intrusion. “I was looking for the reporter called Dirk the dog. Would you be him?”
The mutt’s demeanor softened when he learned that this was his probable contact.
“Yes, I am him.” The dog replied. “But this is a rather awkward way to talk to you. Wouldn’t you rather come up out of there and have a drink?”
“Oh, I suppose that would be alright.” The mysterious figure shyly pulled up a chair and looked around nervously. “I just didn’t want to attract too much attention. My life could be in great danger if my identity was exposed.” The anonymous character twitched his nose impulsively. Dirk suspected that he was dealing with some sort of rodent.
“You have nothing to worry about.” The canine said to reassure him. “If an informant wishes to remain unknown, I will do my best to keep his secrets. You have my work of honor, Mr…uh.”
“Oh, thank you.” Exclaimed the hairy little beast. “I know I can trust you. I’ve read your exposes in the Animal City News and I’m sure that your are the one who can make the most of the story I am about to give you.”
“So, just what is your story?” Dirk was starting to get impatient. He began to wonder if this situation was even worth his time.
The rodent pulled out a large folder of papers from the inside of his coat and handed them to the dog. “These copies will explain everything. I’m telling you, this scandal will tear the city apart. Nothing will ever be the same again if you can break this story. It’s going to break down the old order and bring in a whole new one.”
“now, just what sort of scandal is this?” The dog inquired. He didn’t want to be set up with some kind of story he was going to regret.
The rodent was becoming increasingly edgy.
“Like I said, all of the information is there. I can’t answer too many of your questions now because I don’t have all of facts. But I will get in touch with you as soon as possible.”
“Now, just a minute here…” exclaimed the dog. However, the disguised animal wasn’t listening. Before the mutt could finish his sentence, the informant quickly ducked under the table and disappeared into the darkness.
“Why, of all the dratted luck!” muttered Dirk. That character had been so shifty that he thought for sure that he had been dealing with a weasel.
A two-headed goat had walked upon the stage and started doing a comedy routine.
The right head said, “I couldn’t sleep at all last night because you were mumbling in your sleep!”
The left head said, “Well, if you think that’s bad, let me tell you something, you snore!”
Rightly shot back. “I don’t why I even hang out with you. I certainly have better things to do than to associate with…weirdos!”
Lefty countered, “Oh yeah? Well let me tell you something, bat breath…”
The pair soon started butting heads and throwing punches at each other much to the delight of the audience, who threw empty beer cans at them.
CHAPTER TWO
Dirk left the bar and headed back to the office. When his waitress saw that he had left without leaving her a tip, she exclaimed, “Doggone!”
The mutt returned to the office and examined the files in the privacy of a store room. Like the rodent claimed, this stuff was dynamite! Dirk knew that he could get into a lot of trouble if he printed such allegations. All he had was an anonymous source with nothing really to back it up. He decided that the best thing to do for the time being was to do some investigative work on the side to see if he could gather some more facts.
On his way back to his desk, he passed Clyde the Camel filling up at the drinking fountain. That was a sure sign of a hot day.
“I am so uncharacteristically thirsty today.” Said the desert best as his humps bulged.
Dirk made a few phone calls to see if he could verify any of the information he had received. However, some of the public figures he wanted to talk to weren’t in and some of them weren’t talking. He would just have to find some other way to get the information he was looking for.
As the hands of his clock neared three o’clock, the dog suddenly remembered that he had a doctor’s appointment. His shrink’s office was only a few blocks away, so he didn’t worry too much about being late.
His psych. Was a wise old owl named Dr. Hu. The sessions came at reduced rates as part of the dog’s heath plan through his company. Dirk initially was pleased with the saving until he found out the doc was a little eccentric. His shrink was a disciple of the controversial professor Sigmund Fraud. Hu was constantly telling the mutt that his id was in conflict with his ego and that all of his problems in life stemmed from insecurities he had felt as a young pup. Dirk didn’t have a whole lot of confidence in the owl’s diagnoses. However, he had paid in advance for ten appointments and even if they were disappointments, he might as well use them up.
After talking to the bird for twenty minutes about his problems, the dog waited for some kind of answer.
The owl ruffled his feathers, coughed, adjusted his spectacles, cleared his throat, and tired to sound authoritative.
“So whooo can help you most?” he began. “Whooo knows yooou the best? Whooo else? Your friends, your family, your co-workers, that’s whooo! You have a whooo’s whooo of resources in your life. Whooo else but those closest to yooou know whooo yooou are…”
the doc rambled on for several minutes, using the “who” word as often as possible. Dirk’s eyes wandered around the room aimlessly. His anxiety was not helped by glancing at the titles of books on a nearby shelf.
Some of them were rather suspicious manuals like “How to analyze animals for fun and profit,” “The idiot’s guide to psychology,” “How to make money off the mentally ill,” and the real shocker, “How to sell your patients on the benefits of electroshock therapy.”
Dirk quickly glanced away form the bookshelf to avoid reading any more thitles and to avoid becoming more ill at ease. However, his eyes noticed one of the owl’s degrees on a nearby wall. There was one sheet from D,M,U he wondered, Did that stand for Diploma Mill University?
The mutt decided that he should get out of there before he became an unfortunate victim of some bizarre psychological experiment. As the shrink rambled on, the dog quickly glanced at his watch and loudly announced, “Well, I see our time is just about up.” He got up out of the couch and shook the psych.’s wing.
“Oh, you’re leaving?” Dr. Hu seemed a little surprised. “I thought that maybe I could interest you in a treatment that you would find absolutely electrifying…”
“I’m sure you could, doc.” Dirk replied as he bolted for the door. “However, I believe that my problem have a much simpler solution. Why don’t I just take two aspirin and call you in ten years?” with that parting remark, the dog left.
He thought that next week he’d try a new shrink, a duck named Dr. Qwack.
As he hurried on back to the CAN, Dirk watched various characters going through the routines of their lives. A group of monkeys in their monkey suits were doing their monkey business in a nearby restaurant. Young giraffes were using their long necks to peer over a fence to watch a ball game. The Bears were hosting the Broncos. Allie Gator, a dentist, smiled and showed off his hundreds of teeth as he worked on another patient. A couple of turkeys with turbans watched the reptile through a picture window.
Near the park, a fast-talking hyena was trying to hustle pedestrians with his so called “amazing stick.”
“Step right this way!” The character barked. “Come one, come all, there’s plenty of room for everyone to see the amazing stick. It’s a backscratcher! It’s a fire starter! (just add matches!) It’s a piece of our forestry heritage! Buy a set of them and you’ve got your own home starter kit! It’s even a way discipline your kids if you are so inclined. Come one, come all, buy them today before supplies run low!”
The barker was drawing a surprisingly large crowd. Dirk considered getting one, but felt that he was a little too sophisticated to be fetching sticks.
He was almost back at his office when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a strange thing. A large white limo with dark windows appeared to be following him for the last block. The dog couldn’t see exactly what the occupants were doing because the windows were too dark. However, the car seemed to be traveling at a very slow speed several feet behind him. Dirk was about to go over and see if the driver was lost or something when the limo did a wild U-turn and sped away.
“That was nothing , I guess.” Thought the dog. Then he noticed the fire hydrant nearby and was reminded that it was time to take a leak.
At the urinals, he saw Mulgrew the Mule. He knew that this guy could be real wise ass sometimes, but the dog felt that he should be polite to him anyway.
“So, Mulgrew, how are you today?”
the mule looked back as though no one in his whole life had ever cared enough to ever ask him that question. He scratched his chin thoughtfully and replied, “Well, Let’s see…I’ve got bunions on my hooves again, they flea infestation on my back has returned, my left eye had to drained of pus recently, and lately I’ve developed and awful rash on my groin.” The mule paused for a few seconds while leaving his fly open. “Did you want to see it?” he asked.
“Uh, no thanks.” Said the dog, regretting that he had even said anything at all.
“It’s no problem, anytime you want to take a look at it, I’d be happy to show it off.” The jackass zipped up his fly and exited the bathroom.
“Honestly!” thought Dirk. “We’re all animals, but some of us a bit more primitive than others!”
Dirk looked forward to going home. It has been an unusual day with plenty of surprises. He just wanted to forget about the world and relax.
Rick the Rat gave him a ride to the Lube Weasel, where the dog was able to pick up his car and drive home. It cost him a hundred and eighty bones to get it repaired.
“Oh well,” he wondered. “Every dog has his day and maybe mine will be tomorrow.”
When he returned, his wife gave him one of her slobbering smooches.
Fido, his oldest pup, was back from obedience school. He gave the young lad a big hug. Now he knew why they said, “Happiness is a warm puppy.”
He spent the evening relaxing with his family. They watched the usual shows on TB. “It’s a Dog’s Life” was followed by “Dogs in Sapace.” Then they saw a horror movie called “Terrier in the sky.” They decided that it wasn’t very good, but they stuck with it so they could see how it ended.
The next show was “Mutt ‘n Jeff.” Then they flipped the channels several times before they all fell asleep in each other’s hairy bodies.
The next day, everything seemed to be going on as usual. Dirk wrote an editorial on a camping to save the roach. He wasn’t really into roach rights, but saw the article as a way to help others understand the plight of those troubled crawling creatures.
Then he got the call.
Some guy named Seemore Katt invited him to lunch. This fellow claimed that he could shed some more light on a “hot story” which would really make some headlines.
Dirk agreed to meet him at the Kit Cat lounge. He found the cat in a corner booth, frisking his whiskers.
Seemore Katt was not quite a prissy type, but he was picky about being neat. He held one of the wine glasses up to the light and complained to the waiter about spots. He was very thin and dressed in a white pin striped suit. He frequently licked various parts of his body during the conversation.
After talking about the weather, sports, and local politicians, Seemore started boring the dog.
Dirk decided to cut to the chase.
“So, what’s this big story you have for me?”
The cat ignored him and tried to get the attention of a waiter.
“Yoo-hoo! Could I get a wine spritzer, here? Yes… and I’d like that with a twist of lemon. Thank you, dear boy. Now where were we?”
“The story.”
“Oh, yes, the story. Well, to tell you the truth, this is kind of a non-story story.
Let me give it to you straight.”
“Please do.” The dog was starting to get antsy.
This time, the cat got serious.
“I represent a rather important local business person who would prefer to remain anonymous at this time. Anyway, it has come to his attention that you intend to do some sort of expose on his business practices. Let me assure you that you would be wasting your time if you poke your little doggy nose in places where it doesn’t belong. My client has done nothing wrong and has nothing to hide. So the story I’m giving you is simply that you don’t need to tell any stories about him.”
The cat’s whiskers twitched as he tired to look tough. Dirk almost burst out in laughter at this feeble attempt to intimidate him.
“So what you’re saying is that I don’t really need to do anything,” the dog replies. “Olay, I understand. Nothing I write will embarrass your client, whoever he may be.”
Seemore seemed suddenly pleased.
“Then we have an understanding, then/’
“We do.”
The cat raised his glass. “Then let’s drink to it. To a beautiful friendship.”
The dog kept his claws crossed during the toast.
When Dirk returned to the office, he got a memo marked with word “urgent” on his desk. He knew what that meant. There was an important assignment waiting for him.
He went to see the editor-in-chief, Radger the Badger.
The chief was serious.
“Dirk, I want you to investigate the disappearance of Harry the Horse. As you might have heard, the Horse was an informer for the police. There might have been some fowl play involved if he got mixed up with the East Side chicken gang.”
“You got it, chief. I’m right on it.” The dog was out the door.
He learned from a few phone calls what he needed to know. A little birdie told him that the cops were dragging the river for the horse.
Dirk didn’t think that Harry was in the river. After al, everyone knows that you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him sink.
The dog decided to follow up some leads which had overlooked by the lawmen. The first thing he wanted to do was to go to Little Chickentown and see if he could dig up any news there.
When he stopped at a light, a rooster dressed like a pimp tried to get his attention. The cock was dressed in flashy clothes and had a couple of sexy hens with him.
“Mickey, Mickey, want a chickie?” the chanticleer asked him.
Dirk frowned. “No thanks, friend. I’m a married mutt. But there is something I am looking for. I want to know what happened to Harry the Horse.”
The cock didn’t know but he took one of Dirk’s cards and said that he might be in touch.
Nobody seemed to know anything in Little Chickentown. Yet, Dirk knew that he had a nose for news. His big nose told him that he was on the scent of a huge story.
At McFeather park, he found that rascally hyena trying to peddle his amazing stick again.
“Come one, come all! See the amazing stick. For all you birds, it’s the perfect nest starter kit. Get it for your young ones. They can beat their dolls with it. It’s a doorstopper! It’s window proper. For all you big beasts, it’s a toothpick. Don’t rush, don’t push. There’s plenty of room for everyone to see this wonderful stick.”
There was plenty of room to see because everyone was walking out of their way to avoid being razzed by this character.
Dirk felt sorry for the poor fellow and approached him.
The hyena appeared delighted that at last some one showed some interest.
“Ah, a perfect client for me to demonstrate this incredible invention.” He threw the stick. “Here rover, fetch!”
Some instincts are just too hard to break without even thinking about how silly he looked, Dirk ran after the stick and retrieved it.
The hyena smiled slyly. “Well, doggie, it looks like you slobbered all over some of the merchandise. I guess I’m going to have to charge you for that.”
The dog chuckled. “Gee, I thought that you were throwing it away. With gimmick like that, you ought to be working in Dog’s City.” Dirk smiled as he paid the vendor.
The scavenger laughed. “Sorry, friend, but we all must make a profit some way or another.”
“Speaking of money, I’d be willing to buy information leading to the whereabouts of Harry the Horse.”
The hyena seemed to temporally lose his sense of humor.
“So, you lost a horse, now. Well, you better be careful. The word on the street is that your friend got whacked. He got sent to the glue factory. He’s in that big stable in the sky. You will find neither hide nor horsehair of him.”
“Any idea who might have done it?” asked the dog.
“We don’t need your kind around here asking a lot of nosy questions.”
Dirk looked around himself and soon discovered that he and the vender were surrounded by several members of the Chickentown gang. They were some tough-looking birds, but the dog was smart enough to keep his cool.
The dog tired to reason with the brutes.
“Listen, friend, I’m just having a private conversation here. I’m sure you guys have better things to do than interrupt us.”
“Oh, yeah, well, I’m not your friend.” A small chicken yelled at him. He appeared to be the leader of the group. Dirk guessed that his name was on his tee shirt. It read “Short Cock.”
“Why don’t you make like Michael Jackass and beat it!” The dog sneered at the chickens.
That insult was just too much for the fighting cocks to take. They started snapping their beaks at him. One of them started pecking at his shoes. Another flew up to his head and tried to peck at his eyes. Still another one rushed headfirst into his stomach, nearly knocking the wind out him.
Still, Dirk was able to defend himself. The chickens had a lot of fight in them, but the dog was no pushover. He whacked the one flying over his head so silly that the bird flopped on the ground unconscious. He kicked the one at his feet like a football. The chicken flew through the air and crashed into a nearby garbage can.
The hyena joined him in struggle. The vender turned out to be pretty handy with his sticks. He clobbered two of the cocks upside their heads. A chicken tired to hit him from behind, but the hyena gave him a one-tow punch and the feathered fiend staggered away.
The fighting cocks soon found that they were outmatched and staggered away. Short Cock gave the two an obscene gesture before the group scurried away.
Dirk dusted himself off.
“Thanks for the help.” He told the hyena.
“Anything for a friend.”
“By the way, my name’s Dirk.”
“I’m Hyman the Hyena. Glad to know you.”
They shook paws. Hyman said that he had to go to an appointment soon. However, he took one of the dog’s cards and promised to call if he heard anything.
Dirk decided to hightail it out of Little Chickentown before the fighting cocks returned with reinforcements.
On his way back to his car, he passed an elderly male deer begging on the sidewalk.
“Hey, buddy, do you have change for a buck?” the deer asked him.
The dog dropped his change in the geezer’s cup.
“Thank you, kind sir. You’ve got a deer friend for life.” The buck replied graciously.
Dirk made it back to the office without any more mishaps.
When he arrived, Eager Beaver took one look at him and remarked, “What happened to you? Were you in a wrestling match with a lawnmower?”
The dog looked at his clothes. He won the fight with the chickens, but they had scratched several holes in his shirt and pants.
“Well, I got into a cockfight.” He answered. “But fortunately, I beat those cocks so badly that they won’t be getting up for a while.”
“Good for you. As I have always said, it’s better to be an asskicker that asslicker.” The beaver remarked.
Dirk would never forget those words of wisdom.
He spent the next hour making a series of phone calls. He made a duck call, a bird call, a hog call, a cat call, an ape call, and a howler monkey call. All that he could find out was that nobody knew anything about the missing horse. So the best that he could do was to write as long an article as possible about how little everyone knew.
After work, Dirk had an idea about how to get more information. He headed out to the Animal City Public Library. The dog sought out his friend, Serena the Snake.
Serena was assistant director of information services. She was always glad to help anyone find anything. She even willing to provide certain clients a little unauthorized access to library records for a small under-the-counter gratuities.
The snake was studying his computer as the dog stopped .
“Hi, Serena, long time no see. How have they been treating you these days?”
“Sssssame as ussssssual.” The assistant director replied suspiciously. “And yoursssssself?”
“Oh, I couldn’t be better. Everything looking up.”
“Ssssso glad to hear that.” The snake smiled. “For a sssssecond, I susssssspected that you might asssssk me to get sssssome classsssified informassssshon.”
“Oh, Serena, would I do that?” The dog was not really too smart in playing dumb. “I just want to know if you’d like to participate in performing a small public service.”
The snake typed out something on her keyboard and cursed. “Ssssshucks, my ssssshares in Sssssafe Ssssstock have ssssslid. My invesssstments have been unsssucesssssful.”
Dirk tried to get his attention again. “Look, I’m conducting an investigation on the disappearance of Harry the Horse. Maybe if you could give me a list of library materials he checked out, I could get some clues.”
Sammy glared at him. “Eassssy enough. A complete lisssst will cosssst you ssssseven creditsssss.” The serpent smiled.
The dog agreed. “Okay, you got it.”
Within a few minutes, the snake handed him a printout. Then the creature slithered away into a bookcase.
Dirk took a look at the long inventory of items Harry the Horse had checked out. The missing animal certainly had an interest in money making activities. Some of the titles on the printout were: How to get rich quick, Getting rich made easy, The lazy Ass’s Way to Getting Wealthy, Make Big Money Fast, You can make a million, use your luck to make a buck, How to get rich by watching TV, How to make big money while you sleep, How to become wealthy by searching through piles of garbage, and How to make a million in high risk investments.
He found out that the Horse had also borrowed a number of equine interest publications. Most of them were overdue. They included How to be a Smart Ass, The Common Book of Horse Sense, Straight from the Horse’s Mouth-Famous Equine Sayings, How to Sow your Wild Oats.
On the way out, he almost stepped on some bookworms.
By the time the dog got back to the office most of the employees had gone home. Rick the Rat was still there and he was talking to Mulgrew the Mule.
“And so, I said to the guy, that’s nothing I know a bill collector who’s so tough, he gets them off of live ducks!”
Mulgrew let out a loud, braying laugh which sounded like he was being tortured.
The rat turned to him. “Say, Dirk, we’re going out for a couple of drinks. Care to come along?”
“Sure, as long as you’re not going anywhere near Chicken town.”
“No, we’re going to the Lion’s Den. Come on, it will be a blast!”
The dog agreed and the three left together. They decided to take Rick’s car as it was the roomiest.
Rick popped in a tape. The song was “I wish I was in a Ratsburgh.”
After a few minutes, they were at the Animal Fair. The birds and the beasts were there. A big bovine by the light of a sign was paying his entrance fare.
“Here we are. And here we go.” The rat said.
As they approached the entrance, Mulgrew kept looking over his shoulder.
“I thought I spotted a leopard.” He said.
The rat chuckled. “Don’t be silly, they already come that way.”
A long line of characters streamed out of the Lion’s Den. The front entrance was shaped like a huge Lion’s head and animals of every size and description were waiting to get in.
A pack of lone wolves were barking at each other loudly. Dirk thought he overheard one of them say, “The pecking order is decided by the biggest packers.” They all howled at that remark.
The three heard some heavy pounding on the dancing floor. They looked through the window saw that several elephants, rhinos, and hippos were trying to tap dance.
Rick mused, “I hope they’ve got a strong floor.”
The group get inside the club and got a table near the band. Some antelopes were blowing their horns. They had an octopus who practically a band by himself. He had two tentacles playing a keyboard, two tentacles whacking a drum madly, and two tentacles playing a bass guitar. He was using his other two tentacles to wash himself down with drinks.
Mulgrew looked at the menu. “What have they got? I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!” He brayed loudly.
A large herd of equines at a nearby table gave him a dirty look.
Rick shook his finger at Mulgrew. “If you’ll pardon the expression, don’t make a jackass out of yourself!”
The mule had an embarrassed look on his jowls. He looked at the menu again. “I don’t suppose they have tiger meat. It’s grrrrrrrreat!”
A tiger in a tuxedo snarled at him as he walked by.
After some hesitation, the three decided to go vegetarian and ordered salads.
Dirk used Rick’s cell phone to call his wife so he wouldn’t be in the doghouse for arriving home late.
The band stopped and a stand up comedian hopped out on stage. It was Franklin the Frog.
He tried to clear his voice. “Excuse me, but I’ve got a human in my throat.”
That brought him some scattered laughs.
“When I ordered dinner, they served me a ham-burger with fries. So, I said, waiter, excuse me, I ordered a hamburger with FLIES!”
“Some people may not know it, but in addition to jokes, I’ve also written a number of songs. I wrote, Who let the cows out? Moo, moo, moo. Also, Who let the pigs out? Oink, oink, grunt, grunt. And then, Who let the sheep out? Bah, bah, bah. And then, When let the cats out? Meow, meow, meow. But dammit, I just didn’t think of dogs!”
The frog got some laughs and applause from that one. Dirk could see the punch line coming from a mile away.
During this monologue, the trio talked among themselves.
The dog asked the mule, “So what did you do today?”
Mulgrew stalled like it was a trick question.
“Well, I did the usual, you know, this and that. I went here and there. I went to the bathroom a few times. Oh, I went to the drinking fountain several times. And, of course, I went out to lunch. All in all, it was a typical day.”
Rick glared at the mule. “What do you do anyway? Take a five minute break every five minutes?”
Mulgrew seemed to be offended. “I’m the manager editor, you know that. I manage to edit some.”
The frog got a few more laughs for his last joke and then announced the next act.
“Fellow animals, we are indeed lucky to have our next attraction. She’s some kind of …. Well, an entertainer who defies all description. She’s that good…and even better. Without any further delay, let me introduce to you that hostess with the mostest, that pretty kitty from New Cat City, that classy dame with a burning flame, the toast form coast to coast, the best of the rest, that sunny honey who makes us money, a humdinger of a singer…!”
The audience was starting to get restless.
“Get on with it!” A wolverine form the front row snarled at the frog.
“Miss Kitty Litter!” Franklin exclaimed as he motioned toward the curtain.
She stepped out on the stage like she owned the place. At that moment, she did. Kitty was dressed in a black silk evening gown. She was covered with little silver sequins which made her sparkle like a star. When she shock her long blonde hair around her shoulders, she looked like a goddess from heaven.
Kitty started singing, “How I love that cat.” as she strolled out into the audience. Dirk and the others had heard the song before, but no one was really paying attention to the lyrics. That cat herself was the main attraction. She pulled her boa over a coyote’s head and he howled with delight. Some lone wolves in the back row whistled loudly, trying to get her attention. She serenaded a chameleon and the little fellow turned a deep red shade and giggled.
As Dirk had hoped, Kitty came to his table. Mulgrew was breathing heavily as she approved him. The mule brayed excitedly as the cat pulled her boa over him. And then she did something totally unexpected. She pulled a large scarf over the dog’s head and her own so the two were temporarily hidden from the audience.
Kitty whispered to him so that no one else could hear.
“You’re the one looking for Harry the Horse, aren’t you?”
Dirk was totally surprised. “Why, uh, yes. Do you know anything?”
Her tone seemed stern. “I only know that if you keep looking, you’re going to end up on a Thai restaurant menu.”
She uncovered them and slinked on back to the stage.
Rick chuckled as he poked the dog. “I guess that’s what you call a clothes encounter of the fur kind!” The rat and the mule laughed and drank up.
Dirk was still bothered by that feline’s threat. he knew that she definitely knew something now. But was she leading him on or trying to cut him off? Did she just give him a friendly warning or thinly disguised prophesy of doom? Whatever her motives, he was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this mystery.
Kitty finished belting out her song and the crowd roared with approval. Some gorillas at the nearby table were pounding and grunting loudly in their seats. They acted like they had had one too many banana daquiris. A trio of seals were clapping their flippers and barking excitedly. I guess you could call them the seals of approval.
The cat gave everyone a big bow and slipped through the curtain. Dirk felt that he should follow her, but now might not be the best moment. Getting too close to her might be dangerous. Besides, she had told him all that he needed to know for now.
He and his buddies continued to drink up.
At the end of the evening, the three animals went back to the car. The dog and the rat had to support the mule, who was too tipsy to stand. Mulgrew had celebrated too much as the designated drinker.” Dirk had had a few, but their effect seemed to wear off quickly. No wonder they called that place “the watering hole.”
Rick was the only sober one, so he did the driving.
“That’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.” He remarked.
“The Lion’s Den?” asked the dog.
“No, over there.” He pointed to the Cats kill Mountain.
“Well, yeah. I can understand.” Dirk mumbled.
The canine looked out the window for several minutes without speaking.
“Is it my imagination, or are we being followed?” The dog asked.
The rat looked into his rearview mirror.
“They are following us closely. I think I’ll just slow down and let them pass.”
Rick decelerated, but the car behind them did not pass. It was a big white limo. No plates. Dirk couldn’t see the passengers through the opaque windows.
“There’s one way to find out!” The rat snarled. He drove around the block. The sedan still kept with them.
“You’re right! They sure aren’t very subtle about it! We’ll just see how long they can stay there!”
Rick drove through a red light.
“What! Are you mad?” Mulgrew exclaimed nervously.
“I’m just seeing how far they’re will to go. Don’t worry, I know theses streets like the crawl space of my apartment.”
He drove through another red light, but the limo kept coming.
Dirk was becoming increasingly edgy. He didn’t really care about how far the followers would goat this point. He was more worried about how far the rat would go.
“You don’t have to lose them.” He advised. “Maybe they are just some young punks going out for a joyride.”
“Oh, yeah?” yelled Rick. “Let’s see how they enjoy this!”
He went through another red light. The mule gritted his teeth. Suddenly, they heard a loud crash behind them.
The rat kept his eyes on the road as the other two looked back. A car coming through the cross traffic had hit the limo in the side. The followers stopped for a moment, then they turned and took off in a different direction. The pursuit had ended.
The rodent seemed to be a cool and calm as usual.
“There, I told you, we had nothing to worry about. I always look both ways when I cross a street. And I knew whether or not I could beat someone going the other way. The guys behind us didn’t know. They were watching us, not the traffic.”
Dirk found a way to put his anger into words.
“I really don’t think you should have gone that far. It that ever happens in the future, I think that you should just drive to the police station next time.”
Everyone was silent for a few minutes. They could hardly believe the events of the past few moments. They didn’t want to remember what had happened, but they just couldn’t forget it. They were jus glad that it was over.
Rick tried to break the tension.
“Look, what’s done is done. The important thing is that we got away. If you want to go to the cops about it, be my guest.”
The dog didn’t really want trouble, so he just drove home after the rat dropped him off at his car. But Dirk knew that you didn’t really have to look for trouble to find it. Sometimes trouble would find you easily enough.
CHAPTER THREE
Dirk thought about everything that had happened to him I the past few days as he drove to work. He began to feel that there was no way he was ever going to find Harry the Horse. The missing equine was probably at some glue factory by now.
He was mulling over the new obituaries at the office when one notice caught his eye. JIMMY THE WEASEL FOUND DEAD, it read. Late yesterday afternoon, the body of one James T. Weasel was found in a trash bin on the upper west side. The picture taken of the live weasel could have been a dead ringer (so to speak) for the informant the dog had met just a few days earlier.
The canine tried to find out if there was more information about this character. He was able to find out more. Jimmy the Weasel was an informant for the police. He had also been a part time employee for Fat Cat.
Dirk knew that he was on to something big. Fat Cat was one of the most notorious mobsters in Animal City. If the Cat had ordered a hit on the weasel, he probably had some alibi for where he was at the time of the crime. The police had always had trouble pinning things on him.
The dog was thinking about his various options when he decided to seek out others for advice. He was able to get a drink of water when he found Mulgrew at the drinking fountain. The mule was making a loud slobbering sound as he tired to suck up as much water as possible.
“So, Mulgrew, how are you?”
“Well, my back hurts and I’ve got this crick in my neck. And by the way, did I ever show you this rash…”
Dirk realized quickly that he should have asked him something else and cut him off.
“Wait, there’s something else I want to talk to you about.”
The dog tried his best to explain the situation to the mule.
Mulgrew rolled his eyes thoughtfully.
“Well, whenever I have an important problem, I go see the Wise Ass.”
The canine mused over that idea. “I think I’ve heard of that fellow. Isn’t he some kind of fortune teller.”
The mule smiled. “He knows much more than most people might think he knows. The Wise Ass has strange powers no one can explain. I would recommend his advice highly. There are a lot of smart asses out there, but there is only one Wise Ass.”
The dog wasn’t too sure about this. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe I should just think about this just a little longer.”
The mule really seemed to want to convince him.
“Here, I have this coupon somewhere.” Mulgrew fished around in a box full of clippings. “I know it’s here. Ah, here it is!” He showed to Dirk.
“50% off a session with the Wise Ass. It’s yours if you want to use it.”
The canine accepted the coupon a bit reluctantly.
I suppose the ass guarantees to solve my problems, he thought. His guarantee is that if I am not totally satisfied, the ass will give me double my problems back.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll think about it.” This was usually his way of saying “no.”
However, on this occasion, Dirk decided to make an exception. He felt that he needed to get information from an outside source. So he called up the number on the coupon. Amazingly enough, he was able to get an appointment before noon.
The Wise Ass’s place was not too far away in the Horse Latitudes. The dog found parking near a flea market, where a flea circus was playing. He had had some trouble with fleas before so he decided not to go in.
There were the usual variety of characters going up and down the sidewalk. A Shetland pony with an awful cough walked by. Guess he was a little hoarse. Three rabbits were bouncing up and down while playing hopscotch.
At last, he found the place. The sign read, “The Wise Ass-seer, knower, soothsayer, alchemist, and fortune teller. It was an ordinary storefront. Dirk didn’t really know what to expect. He didn’t have too much experience in dealing with asses. Perhaps he should have been thankful for that. He knew only one guy who dealt with a lot of asses and that was his proctologist.
Dirk enter a small reception room. A small brown hairy creature was seated at a desk. This fellow was dressed in a long purple robe and a pointed cap with golden stars and other symbols on it. He was messing with various chemicals on the desk. He had just poured some liquid into a beaker when it started fizzing and foaming.
“I’m Dirk the Dog. I’m here to see the Wise Ass.”
The furry guy looked at him and shook his paw. “Well, howya doing? My name is Hairy P. Otter, apprentice wizard. The Wise Ass will see you shortly.”
The canine took a seat in the waiting area. He looked over the various magazines, newspapers, and newsletters on a nearby coffee table. There was Magician’s Monthly, Sorcerer’s Secrets, Wizard’s Weekly, Dallier’s Daily, and many others. He started reading a novel called, “A Complete Waste of Time.”
After about thirty minutes of his time had been wasted, Hairy P. Otter summoned him to the desk.
“Go right on in, Mr. Dog. The Wise Ass awaits you.”
Dirk entered the fortune teller’s lair. It was so dark he could barely see anything. His eyes gradually became accustomed to the dim light. The room appeared to be lined with thick, black curtains to block out all of the sunlight.
The Wise Ass sat at a small, round table in the center of the room. He appeared to be a very old fellow. His hair was almost completely white. He was dressed in long black robes and wore a pointed wizard’s hat.
The only light in the room came from a dim bulb which sat on the table. This appeared to be his crystal ball.
The Ass spoke. “Ah, welcome, Mr. Dog. Have a seat. Tell me what brings you here.”
The dog pulled up a chair and joined the wizard at the table.
“Well, you see, sir, I have this problem with my work…”
The Ass interrupted him. “A problem, you say? Never fear. You have come to the right place. I can turn problems into solutions. But first of all, let me see your paw so I can do an accurate reading.”
Dirk put his paw on the Ass’s hoof.
“Ah, I see many things!” The Ass exclaimed excitedly. “You have such sharp claws. I can see that you are not afraid of danger. I can see that you are very intelligent. I can see that sometimes you feel unappreciated by other. And I can see that you have great ambitions.”
And I can see that this guy will tell me anything I want to hear, the dog thought. Just tell me something I don’t know.
“Wait!” The Ass cried. “I hear voices from the spirit world. They speak to me. I listen.”
Great, thought Dirk. If I’ve got the right channeller, I’ll stick with him. If not, I can always change channellers.
“I hear the voice of the horse!” The wizard bellowed loud. “His spirit is very strong. The horse says…” The ass started braying in a horse language than the canine didn’t understand. Then he stopped.
“Could you tell me what the horse said?” asked the dog.
“The horse said that he is at peace now. Nothing more can be done for him. But the horse gave me a warning. He said, beware of the door! The one that seeks truth and knowledge may also find despair!”
“But how could you know? Can’t you tell me any more?” Dirk pleaded.
At that moment the alarm went off.
“I’m sorry, but our time is up.” The wise Ass said coldly as he reset the timer. “Fifteen minutes goes by quickly, doesn’t it. I hope I’ve been some help to you in solving your problems.” He shook the dog’s paw vigorously as he let him to the exit. “Please come again, call anytime for an appointment.”
Dirk wandered out the door as the wizard yelled, “NEXT!”
The canine paid the bill and went out the front of the door. As he was leaving, he overheard Hairy P. Otter talking on the phone.
“He’ll make a Wise Ass out of you yet.” The furry rodent chuckled.
As Dirk went back to his car, he wondered just who was the biggest ass anyway.
When Dirk got back to the office, he was dumbfounded. What a wasted trip that had been! He felt that in trying to be a smart ass, he had ended up becoming a dumb ass!
“Dirk, Dirk, there you are!”
The dog looked around to find Radger the Badger.
The editor looked desperate.
“I really need someone to take this assignment.” He handed Dirk some pieces of paper. They were concert tickets.
“You see, Chuckie Chicken came down with the chicken pox yesterday. He was supposed to go do a story on this music festival. Now I haven’t got anyone to cover it. Can you go to it? I need someone there right away!”
Dirk smiled. “Sure, boss, I’ll get right on it.” He liked music. This might be a good time to get away from all of the frustrations he had been having with his usual work. He would just take the day off and party with the city’s best groups!
The dog had almost gotten out the door when the badge interrupted him.
“By the way, I want you to take Eager Beaver with you.”
The canine knew that there was going to be a catch.
He didn’t have anything against Eager, except that the rodent was kind of a slob. Last time the guy was in his car, he snacked on a pine branch and left a lot of sawdust on the seat. Leave it to the beaver!
Eager promised to be good this time. So the two took off to the Animusic Fest.
The little fellow seemed awfully chipper that day. He couldn’t stop talking.
“Oh, I can hardly wait!” The beaver spoke excitedly and rapidly. “It’s a beautiful day. I know that it’s going to be a great concert. All of this nervous energy within me makes me hungry. Do you mind if I take a lick on hickory stick?”
the dog frowned at him and growled disapprovingly.
“That’s alright! I guess I can save them for later. My, oh my! Breathe that fresh air! How nice it is to get out of the office for a change. Sometimes I think I missed my true calling in life. I work for the newspaper, but some days I feel I should be doing something different. Like, you see, everyone in my family was a lumberjack. That’s what was expected. We were all good at cutting down trees, so that’s what we did. I wanted to be a reporter, so now I’m the black beaver of the family. I don’t fit in only because I chose to work at something different than what my relatives were doing.”
The beaver continued to rattle on about his life story. Dirk wasn’t really interested in listening, buy he did anyway. Sometimes a bad conversation is better than no conversation at all.
When they got out to the outskirts of Animal City, the dog knew that they were getting close to the concert. Traffic was bunching up. He just went with the flow and found parking at the Animal City stadium.
“Stick close to me and you’ll learn plenty.” Dirk said as the two put on their press badges and went into the performer’s loungers.
The dog’s first interview was with the Mooseketeers. This was a rowdy groups of spoiled brats. They kept throwing food, screaming, and butting heads with each other. Although they could sing some, their voices were digitally enhanced by special recording equipment which made them sound better than they actually were.
Dirk could see that he was headed for disaster with them. The Mooseketeers spent so much time distracting each other that they didn’t even pay attention to the dog. He could only get three answers for his questions. All they could say was, “yes.” “no,” and “I dunno.”
His interview with the Pixie Chicks went a little better. This was a young chicken group that played and chirped country music. They were very friendly and talkative. One of them, Trixie Chickie, even took a liking to Eager Beaver.
The two reporters listened to some of the Chicks’s songs. Dirk liked, “Out Of The Frying Pan And Into The Fire” and “Don’t Cry For Me, Col. Santers.”
Dirk’s next interview was with Jack Wolfman. Despite his name, the guitarist assured the dog that he was not a weirdwolf. He was just wolfy and wild. He loved to howl his songs. The canine noticed that while many performers yelled songs, whined songs, screamed songs, squealed songs, grunted songs, moaned songs, and barked songs, not many of them actually sang songs anymore.
When he felt like he had enough information to write a decent article, Dirk decided to watch the show. He and Eager found their complementary seats in the front row.
They were watching The Beagles sing their song, “Hound Dog.” The beaver seemed to think that he was a music critic already as he commented frequently.
“Sometimes, I don’t think the recording companies use the right criteria when they sign their artists. They might sign some animal who looks really good, or has a great body, or can dance really well, or is really young enough to appear to have great potential. I also see that they sign acts because the singers have relatives who are already in the business or simply because of nepotism. They might sign somebody just because they have a lot of money to hype themselves. But, you see, none of these criteria have anything really to do with actual talent. They don’t seem to sign acts on their musical ability, songwriting sills, or production capabilities. And people wonder why so much bad music is made! A lot of these record companies are just interested in making a pretty package that they can sell easily. But they don’t really care that they are producing a lot of crap that no one’s going to listen to in six months!”
Welcome to the real world. Dirk thought as the beaver chattered on.
The dog looked over the program for the days performers. After the Beagles, there was Bob Katt, Eartha Katt, Kilder Fox, Kitty Litter…
Kitty Litter! Was she here now?
“Eager, you stay here and take some notes. I’m going to see if I can get another interview.” The canine barked as he left his seat.
“While you’re up, could you fetch me some sticks to chew on?” The beaver yelled.
The mutt wanted to bite the little fellow for that last remark, but he wisely kept his teeth to himself. Right now, he had more important things to do.
Dirk looked around for the Kitty’s dressing room. Was she even here? And even if he could find her, would she even help him at all?
He found her door and knocked.
“Who is it?” a sexy female voice purred.
“I have a letter for Miss Kitty Litter!” The dog howled.
“Come right on in!”
He opened the door and found her sitting at her vanity table. She was dressed in a bright red evening gown which sparkled under the glare of her make-up lights.
“Just put it over…why it’s you!” She exclaimed angrily.
“Oh, here’s your letter!” Dirk said as he handed her a piece of paper with the letter “A” written on it. “Excuse me for interrupting you at this time. My name is Dirk the Dog and I’m investigating the disappearance of Harry the Horse. I don’t suppose that you could provide me with any information?”
She snarled at him. “You have some nerve barging in here like this. I have to be on stage in forty minutes! Look, I don’t know what happened to Harry the Horse. I heard from a hyena that you were looking for him, so I decided to give you a fair warning.”
She shook her little claw at him.
“If you know what’s good for you, then you’ll know what’s bad for you. And if you horse around barking up the wrong tree, you’ll find that this is a dog eat dog world and you’ll be dog meat! Now you better get out of here before I call security!”
Dirk was so impressed with the cat’s vocabulary that he almost forgot the reason he was there.
He tired to stall. “O.K. You’re right, I’ll be going now.” He started moving slowly back toward the door.
“I didn’t mean to thank you for giving me this warning. Who knows how much trouble I might have been in without your friendly advice. Just in case you might change your mind, let me leave one of my cards here…”
“Go now!” She screamed.
Dirk was almost out of the door when he bumped into a large, mean-looking moose who was entering. The moose grabbed the dog and started shaking him. Another animal started talking.
“So, I see you have company. Is this fellow bothering you? I’ll have Moosellini here rough him up.”
The dog looked around and saw Fat Cat. He instantly recognized the feline as one of the most notorious mobsters in town.
He growled at the moose.
“Watch out, buddy. I bite!”
Fat Cat was dressed in pin stripes and moved like a slow bowling ball. He smoked a big cigar and blew the smoke into the dog’s face.
“So, what do we have here? A little lost pup, eh?”
“Don’t hurt him. He was just leaving.” Miss Litter pleaded.
“Like certainly! I was just on my way out of here!” The dog agreed.
“I’m sure you were.” The big feline purred suspiciously. “You can let him go, Moosehead.”
The beast complied and Dirk straightened out the wrinkles in his jacket. Then he found himself shaking hands with the gangster.
“I’m Alexander Katt the Fifth.”
Does that make you the fifth best Alexander Katt? The dog wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
“I’m Dirk the Dog. I’m just a friend of Miss Litter here to wish her the best of luck for her performance.”
“Well, I apologize if Moose Dung here got a little out of hand. You see, we don’t want anything bad happening to our little star.”
The two thugs let him go and Dirk headed back toward the press seats. He was turning down the hallway when he took a look back. Fat Cat was talking to Mossellini and the two were looking right at him.
The dog felt that he had done nothing wrong. He had nothing to worry about. The truth and the law were on his side. If anything, he felt those characters were hiding something. But did they really know anything? Or maybe they were just naturally suspicious. He knew that those gangster types suspected everyone whether or not anyone was really suspicious.
He thought again about whether or not these fellows knew anything worth knowing. If they knew something worth knowing, how could he find out about it? If they didn’t know anything he wanted to know, he knew that he would be wasting his time.
The dog was just about to get to the stadium when a large spotlight crashed to the floor. It missed hitting him by just a few inches. As far as he could see, it looked like an accident. But then again, he knew that some accidents are accidental while other “accidents” were initiated on purpose. He had always wanted to be in the spotlight, but not that way.
Dirk took his seat next to the beaver. Eager started commenting about some of the musical acts again.
“It seems to me that some of these pop stars are like balloons. They start out small and unknown. Then their promoters blow a lot of hot air into them to make them appear much bigger and more talented than they actually are. Eventually, the public loses interest in them and their bubbles bursts.”
The dog and the beaver watched a few more performers. Dirk tried to enjoy the music, but he couldn’t. he felt that it just wasn’t as good as the kind of music he grew up with. Or maybe he was just an old dog who couldn’t learn new tricks. He had a hard enough time learning the old ones.
“The entertainment business is okay, I guess.” The beaver continued. “But I don’t really give a damn about it. I wouldn’t care to hang around a bunch of weirdos!”
He chuckled as he started chewing up the wooden seat next to him.
Dirk finished up his assignments and drove home for the night. As he pulled into his driveway, he saw two young goats butting heads a block away.
“I’m RAMBO!” One of them exclaimed loudly.
“You’re not RAMBO, you’re DUMBO!” The other one yelled as they crashed together.
“Oh yeah?” Yor’re RAMBUM!”
“You’re RUMBUM!”
The two continued to smash their horns together as the dog shook his head. Kids these days!
His wife greeted him with a sloppy kiss as he entered the living room.
“Oh, Dirk, how was your day?”
“Every dog has his day, but this wasn’t one of my better ones.”
He flopped down on the couch and turned on the television.
Her tone grew more serious.
“I must have a talk with you about Fido. He’s flunking out of obedience school. Just take a look at his report card!”
dirk took a look at the paper.
“Let’s see…A “C” in fetching…An “F” in barking…yes, he definitely needs more work there. I’ll tell you what. I’ll take him to a barking lot to practice. That way he won’t get a barking ticket.”
That suggestion seemed to please her.
“I’m glad you’re going to do something. I care that you care.”
She gave him one of her warm doggy hugs as he used the remote to switch channels.
“And I care that you care that I care.” He said he snuggled her back.
“And I care that you care that I care that you care! And that’s that!”
he wisely decided to let her have the last word that issue.
“I haven’t fixed dinner yet, so you can have your choice on what you want to eat. Would you like stewed bones, baked bones, fried bones, crushed bones, or bones a la orange?”
“They all sound so delicious to me.” Dirk replied as he licked his lips. “Just fix whatever is easiest.”
The dog continued to flip through the channels.
There was hippo wrestling on channel 35. two big lugs were hugging, squeezing, rubbing, pounding, punching, pulling, kicking, and stretching each other. He thought that it looked too much like really aggressive male bonding.
On channel 38, an elephant was pitching a new wrinkle cream. “Guarranteed to work or double your wrinkles back!”
Channel 31…Turtle races. He’d watch that if he needed help falling asleep.
Channel 43…Financial News. A serious looking bear announced, “For all of you viewers out there who own stock, you’re going to want to sit down before you hear this next report…”
Channel 44… These sheep dressed in medieval clothes were singing songs called, “Ivory,” “Dove,” “Ponds,” and “Pam Olive.” It must have been a soap opera!
Channel 62… The Public Access Station. The Wise Ass was on TV! In fact, he had his own show! Dirk looked at the listings. Sure enough, the wizard was right there. The dog decided to stick with this one. Maybe he would get more from watching than he got from his reading.
The Wise Ass appeared to be in some sort of planetarium. There were thousands of starts in his background. Comets and meteors streaked through the night sky.
He stood before a huge crystal ball. This one was much larger than the orb Dirk had seen during his visit. It had a light glow to it. The dog could see a faint image appearing in it. It was a door.
The mystic talked as though he were in some kind of trance. He seemed to be thoroughly mesmerized by his own brilliance.
“Discover the wonders behind the door!” he exclaimed. “Find truth and knowledge. Learn the innermost secrets of the universe. Experience peace, hope, bliss, and tranquility. All of this can be yours if you act now.”
As it turned out, the Wise Ass was selling a book. Dirk recognized it as one of the books that Harry the Horse had checked out from the library. It was at this time he knew that he had his answer.
The next day, the dog was back at work as usual. A lot of things had happened in the last week, but he never let little disappointments bother him. He knew that he was on to something big. He could have the story of the year if he played his cards right. He could get a fat book deal, make millions, and become famous if he could just get a few breaks along the way.
Or perhaps nothing would happen. Maybe the leads would dry up. He had dealt with so many liars, fakers, phoneys, cons, and bunco artists before. Maybe they were just taking him on a long ride off a short pier. But for now, time was on his side. He could afford to wait a little longer.
His first appointment was a disappointment. He had an interview with a panda named Peter Pumpkin. What an awful name! he hesitated even talking with the fellow because he didn’t really believe that anyone could possibly have a name that silly! It would be like a cruel joke. It would be like naming someone Fuzzy Wuzzy, Peter Piper, Tom Thumb, Jack Horner, or Jack Sprat. You’d never be able to get anyone to take you seriously. He felt sorry for the chap so he invited him in.
The panda showed up late and drunk. Maybe he had a hangover from came in with two black eyes. He said that he had been in the Happy Fern Bar when it happened. Two flies had landed on his eyes. A friendly kangaroo had punched him twice in the face while trying to get them. Unfortunately, the jumper missed and the black and white boy got himself all black and blue. That story was about as believable as putting a fox in charge of a henhouse.
His first appointment was a disappointment. He had an interview with a panda named Peter Pumpkin. What an awful name! He hesitated even talking with the fellow because he didn’t really believe that anyone could possibly have a name that silly! It would be like a cruel joke. It would be like naming someone Fuzzy Wuzzy, Peter Piper, Tom Thumb, Jack Horner, or Jack Sprat. You’d never be able to get anyone to take you seriously. He felt sorry for the chap so he invited him in.
The panda showed up late and drunk. Maybe he had a hangover from eating too much bamboo. Anyway, the fellow came in with two black eyes. He said that he had been in the Happy Fern Bar when it happened. Two flies had landed on his eyes. A friendly kangaroo had punched him twice in the face while trying to get them. Unfortunately, the jumper missed and the black and white boy got himself all black and blue. That story was about as believable as putting a fox in charge of a henhouse.
Anyway, the dog listened to the bear talk for about an hour. Peter Pumpkin described several of his inventions. He claimed to have developed a car that would run on cow manure. Sure it would, if you drove it through a pasture. It sounded like a lot of B.S to Dirk, but he kept writing.
The panda also talked about a rocket powered skateboard he was developing. It sounded like an accident waiting to happen. Dirk could just imagine hundreds of kids riding on them throughout Animal City. They would run down people on the sidewalk. They would try to race each other on the street. What would the world come to?
CHAPTER FOUR
After the interview, Dirk ate lunch at the park. It was a warm, sunny day. It felt good to get out and breathe some fresh air. Too often the air in his office tasted stale.
He was sitting on a park bench, eating a sandwich, when he heard a strange, rustling noise. At first, he ignored it. After all, animals went in and out of the bushes all of the time. The dog was better off minding his own business.
Then it was too late. Suddenly two small chickens jumped out of the brush and attacked him. One of them tried to push him over while the other one hit him in the chest repeatedly.
The dog was surprised and stunned for a moment. Then he grabbed the hitter and slammed the bird into the ground. Dirk then slugged the pusher so hard the chicken did three backwards somersaults through the air before he finally collapsed.
“And just what’s the meaning of this?” He growled angrily.
The pusher was so dazed, he was practically unconscious. So Dirk grabbed the hitter. The bird was still a little weak from his fall. He struggled to get away, but the dog had firmly in his paws.
“Oh what a terrible mistake!” The chicken cried in distress. He held up his wings to protect his beak. “Please don’t hurt me, sir. I swear that this attack was not my idea.”
The dog continued to keep the bird in his clutches.
“So, then, who put you up to this?” He scowled as he showed off his sharp teeth.
When he calmed down, the chicken explained that the attack was part of an initiation rite. He and his buddy had wanted to get into the Chickentown gang and this was what they had to do. Dirk didn’t have to guess twice about who had told them to do it. Of course, it was his nemesis, short Cock.
The dog thought of running the two over to the juvenile delinquent center. However, he had another idea.
“Take me to see him.”
“Oh, no! Anything but that.” The chicken quivered in fear.
“Take me or you go to jail.”
“I don’t care.”
“Take me or I’ll thrash you!”
“Do your worst. I won’t betray our leader.” The bird seemed defiant as ever.
Dirk had a sly look in his eye.
“So, maybe you wouldn’t mind being made into a soup, or a casserole, or maybe you’d like to be baked, broiled, or fired instead.”
The dog grinned as he licked his chops.
“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t dare do anything like that.”
“Would I? Do you really want to find out? I like the idea of having a chicken for dinner. And I don’t mean as guest!”
“O.K.! Alright! Already! I’ll take to him. But you have to promise me one thing. I’ll show you where he is, but when you see him, just don’t ell him I told you. Alright?”
Dirk agreed.
The dog took the two chickens to his car and they headed to Chickentown.
The dog took the two chickens to his car and they headed to Chickentown. He had searched the birds for weapons, but they didn’t have anything hidden in their feathers. The two were so intimidated in their fathers. The two were so intimidated by his presence that the mutt felt sure that they wouldn’t try anything.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave your life of crime behind. It’s a dead end. Breaking the law may seem like fun at first. However, if you get caught again, you and your friend are going to spend some time in the coop.”
Dirk didn’t know if the chickens were even listening to him. Did they even have ears?
They showed him a warehouse on the edge of town.
“I swear to you as far as I know, Short Cock is in that building.” The hitter replied. “But one thing I can tell you is that he doesn’t take kindly to unwanted visitors.”
“I’ll take my chances. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” The dog said. “As for you two, you’re free to go. And if I were you, I’d stay as far away from here as possible.”
The two chickens took off. They flapped their wings wildly as they disappeared into the distance.
Dirk approached the entrance of the building with caution. He knew that chickens had a reputation for cowardice, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
He noticed a security camera watching him as he approached the front door. They probably see me already. I might as well approach this situation head on. I absolutely refuse to be intimidated by these little clucks! Besides, I’m not going to the lion’s den, it’s just a henhouse.
“State your name and business, please.” A chick’s voice announced on the intercom.
“I’m Dirk the Dog and I’m here to see Short Cock.”
“Just a minute, please.” The voice chirped.
The dog felt that every minute he waited at this spot could lead him closer to his doom. It was still not too late to back off. He could take off now and not lose anything. However, he knew that only the tough bird had the answers to his questions.
“Come on in.” The chick chirped. “Enter the door and go to the room at the end of the hallway.”
The canine complied.
He entered a long, dimly lit corridor. As he slowly moved down the passageway, he could see a light at the end. Some figures were moving there, but he couldn’t see them clearly. He was just about to reach the hall when suddenly the floor collapsed beneath his feet! He found himself falling and turning into a deep, dark hole. He howled in terror. Then he blacked out.
When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying in a small cell. He was sitting on a mattress.
“Well, what do we have here? A little lost pup?”
Short Cock was sitting on a stool on the other side of the bar. He was shitting on a piece of wood with a large knife. Two bigger chickens were standing behind him.
“So, is this any way to treat your visitors?” The dog said as he came to his senses.
“No, this is the way I treat intruders or trespassers. And that is what you are.”
“Don’t be foolish. I was invited in.”
“I feel like dong something cruel and unusual.” The chicken sneered as he continued whittling. He had a faraway look in his eye. Dirk had seen that look before…in a mental hospital. He didn’t like it at all.
“Maybe it’s time for you get neutered.” S.C chuckled. “Hang in there, dog breath. I’ll be right back.”
The three chickens whispered a few words among themselves. Then they left the room.
The dog looked frantically around the cell. There were bars on the windows. There seemed to be no way he could escape. He still has his pocketknife and he could possibly use that as a weapon. Then he had an idea. It might work, but it would take some time.
Dirk had finished by the time Short Cock returned. The chicken and his friends had brought a few knives with them.
“You might as well relax. You’re gong to be here a while. Who knows, you might even enjoy it.” S.C. laughed as he approached the cage.
They were right where the dog wanted them. Suddenly, he pushed a whole wall of bars on top of three chickens. The two bigger clucks squawked as a large part of the cage fell on top of them. They were knocked unconscious immediately.
Short Cock was dazed by the weight of the heavy bars. He was now trapped on the floor.
“How’d you do that?” He muttered.
Dirk kept the weight of the cage wall firmly pressed against his prisoners.
“If you’re going to try to hold someone captive, you’re going to have to make a better cage. I took yours apart with a screwdriver.”
The dog smiled as he continued to hold the three down.
“Now I want some answers.” He growled. “First of all, what happened to Harry the Horse?”
“I dunno.” S.C. whined.
“If you don’t know, then why have you and your buddies been harassing me?” Dirk snapped as he showed his big, mean teeth.
“Look, we were hired to intimidate you. We just wanted to scare you into giving up your investigation. I really don’t even know what happened to the horse.”
“Well, who hired you? Who” The dog pushed the bars against the scrawny chicken’s neck.
“It was Fat Cat.”
After getting a few more answers, Dirk hightailed it out of there.
He had thought about ripping out all of S.C.’s tail feathers as revenge, but he decided against dong that. After all, it was too early for a cocktail!
He got back to the office and decided to act like nothing had happened. He didn’t really want to bother anyone with a situation that was already under control. He was his own dog. He could sit up, roll over, fetch, and play dead all by himself.
He wasn’t really mad at S.C., but he did kind of fell sorry for the dumb bird. The chicken was probably doomed to end up in one stew after another. However, he felt that he probably should have tried to get more information out of the feathered fiend. There were still a lot of questions he needed answers for.
Eager beaver handed him a news release.
“Have you seen this? Fat Cat’s gong to get busted!”
Dirk eagerly read the story. The fearsome feline was on his way down. Already the police had raided several of his illegal operations all over town. The cat had planned to kill several innocent animals and grind up their bodies to make cat food. Fat Cat had escaped, but several of his associates had been arrested. His cousin, Seemore Katt, had made full confession and was cooperating with the authorities.
Well, that certainly is something! He was glad to find out that he wouldn’t have to face the crime boss by himself. The way things were going, the feline would likely be caged soon. Oh well, maybe he could wrangle a jailhouse interview with the cat. Fat chance at that.
He thought that maybe if he could find F.C. before the police did, he could get an exclusive interview. But where could the fugitive gangster be?
The dog looked over a map of Animal City. There were so many places a cat could run and hide. The police might be searching for weeks before they found him. How could he get to F.C. first? And was that even a good idea anyway?
Dirk remembered the papers given to him by the weasel. Most of that information had turned out to be unreliable. He hadn’t been able to verify much of it. But now that the cat’s scheme had been exposed, this might be the best time for the story to break.
He started writing. He gave all of the juicy details available. He exposed the inner workings of Fat Cat’s plan to feast off of the population. He believed that this would truly be his finest story.
When he finished the article, he knew that something was still missing. He hadn’t put all of the pieces of the puzzle together yet. There was still someone out there who answer those questions. He felt that he still had to find Fat Cat.
He knew that there would be some danger involved. But he was not afraid. Perhaps it was just instinctive for him to want to chase the cat. He was not really interested in the reward money. He just wanted the big story.
The canine made a few calls, but he found no new information. Nobody could tell him anything new. He felt that he was going to find the cat by himself.
That evening, Dirk decided to meet an old friend for drinks. Rabbit Dull was a local jack of all trades. Earlier in his career, he had wanted to be an entertainer. As a stand-up comedian, he had been known as the Funny Bunny. However, every time he stood up, audiences just wanted him to sit down.
For a while, he had gone by the nickname, “Bugs.” However, the rabbit no longer liked being called that now. He felt that others might mistakenly believe that he had fleas.
They met for drinks at the Moose Lodge. Rabbit ordered a double shot of vodka with a carrot juice chaser. The dog had a gin and toilet water.
“So what have you been doing, lately?” Dirk asked.
Rabbit twitched his whiskers defensively.
“I’ve been painting. And don’t call me late Lee.”
The dog chuckled. “I painted my sister, once. Unfortunately, my parents made me wash her off.”
The rabbit gurgled in his drink.
“Very funny. I’ve been painting buildings.”
“Oh, really? I prefer landscapes myself.” The canine countered.”
“Look, you S.O.B. I’m the one who tells the jokes!” the rodent snapped.
They both laughed.
After several more minutes of small talk, the dog got around to discussing his case.
“So you want to interview the Fat Cat. Do you have any clues to where he might be?”
Dirk shook his head. “I haven’t found neither hide nor hairball of the fellow. Although I believe that he may be caught by the police soon.”
The dog told about his amusing visit to the Wise Ass.
“He didn’t tell me too much. Though he did mention something about a door …”
“Wait, hold it right there!” The rabbit interrupted. “He told you about the Door?”
“Come to think of it, he did mention it like that.” The mutt mused. “So what’s so special about a door?”
“Not just a door.” The rodent said. “But The Door. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about The Door.”
Dirk pretended not to be dumb. “I’ve heard about The Door before, but I tought it was just a legend. I’d like to know more.”
“I can’t say that I am the best authority on the subject.” The rabbit admitted as he chewed his salad. “However, I will try to explain it the best way that I can. The door is like a gateway to revealing the truth. If you find The Door, all of your questions will be answered.”
“So, just where is this door? The dog inquired.
“I cannot tell you that. I have never seen it. I suppose that the best way to find it is to find someone who had already seen it and find out how they saw it.”
“Well, do you know anyone who has seen it?”
“Sorry, I’ve never know anyone. I’ve heard of some creatures who have seen it. That was so long ago that I doubt that they could still be alive today. One thing I do know is that The Door can be created if you know how to do that. You can bring it to you if you have the right spells. I would think that you would need a professional.”
“You’ve given me a great idea!” exclaimed the dog. “I will try to locate The Door.”
The next day, Dirk discussed his plan with Rick the Rat.
“I’m sure that if I find the right place, I can locate The Door. I just need your help.”
The rat rested his head thoughtfully. “Well, tomorrow is Satuday. I guess I could get away to help you look for this door. Where did you say it might be located?
“The rock formation in the Cats Kill mountains.” The dog answered.
Rick suddenly froze like someone had hit him with a brick.
“I don’t know if I want to go there. That place is kind of creepy.”
“Only if you go there alone at night. And only if you believe that something can actually hurt you. That’s why hardly anyone goes there anyway. I’ve got a good plan. If it doesn’t work, we can just spend the weekend hiking through the woods. There’s a lot of great scenery out there. There are views that could take your little rat breath away.” Dirk was about ready to plead with the fellow.
“Well, I just don’t know.” Rick replied sheepishly. “Maybe I’ll just have to think about it a little longer.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll pay for the whole trip. It’s on me. You’ve been such a good friend to me these past few years that I really think that I should do something for you.”
“Hmmm.” The rat was still considering the offer.
“Look, it’s the perfect chance to get away for the weekend. Besides, I’m sure there will be a lot of great food there. Campers leave all kinds of stuff behind. Potato chips and chocolate bars and pretzels and gooey gumdrops and…”
The dog watched as the rat’s mouth started to water.
“Peanut butter cups and bean dip and French fries and onion rings and tacos and lots of different kinds of cheese like cheddar and Swiss and mozzarella and Colby and…”
“Stop!” Rick interrupted. “Okay, I’ll go.”
“Great! I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven.”
Dirk got up early that next morning. He had made an extensive list of the supplies he needed. He had packed everything in the car the previous evening.
“I’ll miss you.” His wife said as she gave him one of her sloppy wet kisses.
“I’ll miss you, too. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be back in a few days and everything will be fine.”
He looked to see if he had forgotten anything. Yes, the pup tent was there.
The dog was glad to see that the rat had packed light. The rodent only needed a small backpack and sleeping bag.
The two were on their way.
“So, how about a bite?” Dirk asked.
Rick looked a bit apprehensive. “Careful, buddy. I bite back!”
They laughed.
The pair stopped at a service station restaurant named “THE EAT AND GET GAS PLACE.” Naturally, they did both.
The dog was surprised as to how much the little fellow could eat.
In no time at all they were on their way again.
The day was bright and sunny. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. The weather was so good that the dog wondered whether or not he should have called ahead for reservations.
Along the way, the two talked.
“Rick, do you suppose there are any other worlds out there?”
“Oh, do you mean aliens? Extra-terrestrials?”
“Yes, something like that.” The dog replied.
“Well, I’d have to say that I don’t really know. I haven’t really thought about it much. It really hasn’t make much of a difference to me. I suppose that it’s possible, but I don’t think that it’s likely.”
“Why not?” The dog asked.
“I think that the odds against it would be enormous. Creating life doesn’t just happen. I think that it would take some kind of miracle for new life to get started anywhere. As far as our scientists know there is no life anywhere in the universe except on our world.”
Rick paused as he munched on a rat crispie treat.
“Why? Do you believe in them?”
“I try to keep an open mind on the subject.” The dog answered. “If I ever saw them, I’d believe. But right now I’m just keeping my eyes. Open.”
Soon afterwards, they entered the Cats Kill Mountain Park. They managed to secure a campsite near the hiking trails. Then they set off to see the rock formation. It could only be reached on foot.
Along the way, Dirk told Rick about the history of the rock formation.
“The columns of stone are so old that no one knows who built them exactly. They have been there since before our recorded history began. There are many theories about who built them, when they were built, and why they were built. Some think that the earliest settlers constructed them as sort of a temple to worship their gods. Others believe that the columns were actually built by the gods themselves. And there are still others who think that the columns were built by aliens.”
“And you?” The rat asked. “What do you think?”
“All I think is that this area is a special place. Special things happen in special places. I also believe that this rock formation is the key to discovering the existence of The Door.”
“Oh, you believe in that, do you?” Rick replied cynically.
“Let me just say that anything is possible. Some things are more likely to happen than others. I believe that The Door exists and if I really try, maybe I can find it and open it. Think what a story that would be!”
“I’ve heard stories about The Door myself.” The rat commented as he struggled to keep up the pace. “And sometimes those who find it are sorry they did.”
“I’ll take my chances.” The dog said.
“If we can’t find it, we’ve lost nothing but time.”
Dirk and Rick continued to hike trough the woods. Since the rodent was much smaller than the canine, he had to take twice as many steps just to go the same distance. Soon, the rat was out of breath.
“Wait!” He gasped. “I must rest.” The furry little one collapsed on the trail.
The dog sat on a large rock by a tree. He noticed that the forest seemed unusually quiet for some reason. Perhaps they were so far away from civilization that nothing lived there.
“It’s quiet.” He mused.
“Too quiet.” His friend added.
“Some animals look for peace their whole lives and never find it.” The dog remarked. “Enjoy it while you can. You may never have this kind of peace again.”
After resting a few moments, the two continued their journey. Dirk knew that they were close now.
At last, he could see the rock formation n the distance. It looked so tiny as they were still so far away from it. There was a light breeze on their backs. The leaves of the trees rustled in the wind. Dry twigs snapped beneath their paws.
“Have you been here before?” The rat asked.
“No, I’ve only heard about it. Some animals say that it is a wonderful place. Others are completely scared of it. They believe that it is haunted. As for myself, I wouldn’t believe in ghosts unless I actually saw one. Even then, I would still have my doubts about whether or not they were actually real or maybe my eyes were just playing tricks on me. Whatever the case, I’ve wanted to come out here for a long time anyway. So here I am!”
“And so, here we are!” The rodent exclaimed.
They had arrived at the stone formations. The tall columns looked cracked, but sturdy. They had a timeless quality to them. They looked as though they had been around for thousands of years and could easily be around for thousands more.
Dirk observed the tall cliffs which loomed from behind the rock formations. Anyone could be watching us from up there and we would never know it.
The two approached a small hole behind the pillars. It appeared to be a cave leading into the cliff. Could that lead to The Door?
The dog approached the cave with caution. There were so many loose rocks and boulders in the landslide. He stepped over the stones carefully. The rat slowly followed.
They were just about to reach the entrance. It was just a few more feet.
Dirk gingerly walked over some dry leaves and sticks. Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath his paws. He fell himself falling into the earth. The rat also fell into the hole. The world went black for a moment.
“What happened?” The dazed rodent asked.
“We fell into a trap.” The canine muttered. “Fortunately, it was not a fatal mistake. At least, not yet.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The dog brushed himself off as he looked around the hole. The pit was dark, but gradually his eyes became accustomed to the dim light. The bottom was bare and dry, except for a few sticks and leaves which had fallen in with them. The walls of the hole were smooth, slick, and rocky. He felt that he could eventually climb out, but it would take him some time.
He eyed the cracks and ledges on the side of the cave.
“Have you ever gone rock climbing before?” The rat inquired.
“Not unless I had any choice.” The dog answered. “And this situation appears to be that way.”
The hole appeared to be about twenty feet deep. The two were lucky to have landed on some soft dirt at the bottom. They might broken some bones if they had landed on stones.
Dirk began scaling the wall. His paws slipped on a few loose stones, but he managed to keep himself form falling.
“IF I can get out of here, I’ll find some way to pull you out, too.” He said.
“And what if you can’t ?” Rick asked.
“I’m sure that someone will come by this place and discover us. Either dead or alive.” The dog replied.
The rat shook a little with fear. Then he started looking around to see if there was any other way out. There were a number of cracks and holes in the bottom of the wall. However, none of them were large to crawl through.
The dog had managed to get himself up to the halfway point by this time. For the moment, he couldn’t how he could keep going. Every time he would reach for something higher, he would start to lose his balance. Then he would have to brace himself in order to maintain his position. He wanted to avoid falling back down to the bottom.
Suddenly, he thought that he heard someone. Yes, there were animals talking up there.
“Hey, hello! Can you hear me? I’m down here!’ The dog howled.
The voices were getting louder. Dirk thought that they wounded familiar, but he didn’t recognize them. He had no idea who was up there until he saw a face peer over the ledge.
It was Fat Cat.
The feline seemed slightly amused at the situation. He was smoking a cigar and acting very nonchalant.
“So, what do we have here? A few lost mice/’
The dog looked up and smiled at him. Then he swallowed his pride and requested assistance.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Cat, isn’t it? Do you remember me? Dirk the Dog from the Animal City News?”
the cat continued looking over the edge.. he chuckled and flicked some cigar ashes into the hole.
“Oh, so it is you?” the feline exclaimed. “Well, you certainly have gotten yourself into a hole, haven’t you/ What should we do about that? My, my what should we do?”
“Yeah! Could you help us out here?” The rat shouted.
The cat stopped smiling and suddenly looked very stern.
Then he called over his shoulder. “Hey, Moosellini, bring me some of that boiling oil here!”
The cat’s paws scraped the top of the hole carelessly. Several pebbles fell down and bounced off of Dirk’s head.
The feline chuckled again and said, “Hey, I’m just kidding.”
Then his face looked stern again as he shouted, “Mussoline, don’t bother with the oil. Bring me the boiling lead!’
Rick didn’t seem to appreciate the cat’s sense of humor.
“I’d trust him to help us like I’d trust a sieve to hold water.” He whispered to Dirk.
Fat Cat smiled again and flicked some more ashes from his cigar on them again.
“Just kidding again.” He remarked slyly. “We’ll get you out of there. Just be patient. I’ll be right back. Don’t you two run away now.”
The cat moved away from where the dog could see him. Dirk felt his feet slipping from off the ledge. He tried to get a grip on a crack, but it was no use. There was nothing for him to get a hold on.
“Look out below!” he cried as he tumbled back down to the bottom of the hole.
Fortunately, he fell only about five feet. However, he took a lot of loose dirt and stones with him as he hit the floor.
The rat rushed to his side.
“You all right, buddy?”
Dirk got up quickly and brushed himself off.
“Yeah, only my pride is wounded.”
The two heard Fat Cat talking with some other animals above. The cat was the last fellow he wanted to be rescued by, but apparently he had no choice.
“Who’s down there?” He heard a female voice meow. He looked up. It was Kitty Litter.
“Oh, it’s you!” she exclaimed as she peered over the edge. “Oh, dear! However did you get down there? Are you all right?”
“I’ve been better.” The rat replied.
“Getting here was easy.” The dog answered. “We just went straight ahead and then we went straight down.” He made a few gestures with his paws in order to fully describe the trip.
“Nothing broken, I hope?” Fat Cat asked. He didn’t act like he really cared.
“No, we’re all right. We’d just like to get out of here as soon as possible.” Dirk called up. “Do you have any way to pull us up?”
“Well, that is a problem. I haven’t found a way yet.” The flabby feline mumbled. He shuffled along the edge of hole. “But we’re sure to think of something.”
Kitty Litter seemed annoyed with her boyfriend’s indifference.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go back to camp and get some rope!”
Fat Cat looked really mean for a few seconds. He acted like he wa about ready to push his girlfriend in the hole instead. However, he turned his back and started muttering something as he crept away.
“he’s not a bad cat, once you get to know him. The problem is that so few animals bother to do that.” She called to them. “Can I get you guys anything before he gets back?”
“Well, if you throw me a guitar, I’ll serenade you.” Rick chuckled as he winked at her.
“Oh, you’re very sweet!’ K.L. giggled. “Listen we’d invite you for lunch, but I don’t think you’d like being on the menu.”
She licked her chops provocatively.
Her response was enough to make the furry rodent quiver with fear.
“What I meant was do you want me to do anything to make you more comfortable while you’re down there?” Miss Litter asked.
“I don’t suppose you’d have anything to eat.” Dirk asked.
“As a matter of fact, I have these sandwiches. You’re welcome to have them.”
She threw down a couple of bags to the animals below. They thanked her profusely.
“Ah, this is like manna for a dying rat!” The rodent sighed as he tore open the bag and gobbled down the breaded snack.
The dog was quite hungry, also. However, he ate his sandwich at a slower pace. It tasted like some kind of unidentifiable meat. He hoped that it wasn’t anyone he had known. He tried not to think about it too much as he ate.
“I’m going away for a little while, but I’ll be back soon.” She purred as her voice started fading away.
“Whatever you do, don’t forget about me!” the rat squealed with delight.
“Well, we’re as good as saved. At least someone knows about us now.”
“Yes, they know about us. However, I still would like to try to get out of this hole on my own.” The dog commented.
Dirk began to scale the wall of the hole again. He continued because he didn’t just want to give up. He believed that he could overcome any obstacle if he really tried.
He managed to pull himself up to the halfway point one more time. His grip seemed firmer now. Using all of his strength, he dept clawing his way to the top. He grabbed for cracks in the wall. He refused to let go.
“Go for it! You’re almost there! He heard Rick say below.
After what seemed like an eternity, his paw found the edge of the hole. He wanted to stop and take a breath. But he knew he had to keep going. He peered over the edge of the hole. No one was coming. With a final push, he managed to clime out. He had made it.
“That’s great!” The rat exclaimed. “Now what about me?”
Dirk looked around for anything which could be used to pull the rat out. There were a lot of leaves, rocks, and small twigs but they were of no use. He was considering whether or not to go back to his own camp. Suddenly, a voice behind him startled him.
“So, you got away.” Fat Cat purred. He was with Moosellini and a tough-looking Bobcat. They had rifles with them. However, they were not pointing their guns at the dog. They kept their weapons strapped to their backs.
“Well, I almost feel sorry that I wasn’t able to save you.” The feline talked as if he wasn’t the least bit sorry. He had some rope in his paws that he was twisting around. He acted like he was about to strangle someone.