Trixie Fights For Furry Rights

by Ros Asquith

  So we hung about for what seemed like hours. Finally the queue dwindled. Vera’slimo was still outside, with her bored-looking driver sitting in it, reading the paper. Then the big and even more bored-looking bodyguard wandered over from the alley and leaned into the car to talk to him. Dinah was off and down the alley as if she’d been pulled by an elastic band, while me and Chloe panted behind her.

  “There she is!” hissed Dinah excitedly. We all ducked behind a wheelie bin to look. Vera was THERE in the alley! And ON HER OWN.

  Dinah’s eyes went as round as saucers. So did ours. Even Chloe’s, which are pretty saucer-like in the first place.

  Vera was leaning against a fire escape, a cigarette in the corner of her mouth. She was pulling something out of a brown paper bag – with the unmistakable logo of a very well-known burger chain on it.

  We scurried along to the next wheelie bin. Vera didn’t hear us. We crouched down, not knowing what to do next. Then Dinah stood up. We tried to grab her, but we couldn’t.

  “That’s a beefburger,” she said, loud and clear to Vera. “And you’re smoking a cigarette. What about your healthy vegetarian lifestyle? You’re a cheat.”

  Chloe and I clutched each other in horror, then stood up very slowly and shuffled behind Dinah, who was trembling – but with fury, not fright.

  Vera looked at us and rolled her eyes upwards. “Hell’s bells,” she said. “No rest for the wicked.”

  “How can you do this?” Dinah went on. “All those children out there…dressed as vegetables. Because they love you.”

  Vera blew smoke in the air and sighed. “OK, you got me, darling. But the time comes when you have to face facts. It’s like finding out the truth about the Tooth Fairy…”

  “What’s the truth about the Tooth Fairy?” Chloe said quietly.

  “Listen, I’m an actress, kids. I’m just trying to make a living. One day you’ll have to do that too.”

  We just stood staring at her. Even Dinah was speechless.

  “Oh God, what am I saying?” Vera suddenly groaned. “Look, don’t give me away. Please? I’ve got a dependent mum and a two-year-old daughter and the dad’s a rat—”

  “A rat?” Chloe squeaked in horror.

  “Not a real rat, love, but he’s run out on me and I have to take care of myself. If you tell anybody about this, it’ll blow everything. Look, I’ll make it worth your while…”

  Vera scrambled inside her foliage and brought out a wad of cash. “Take it,” she said. “Just keep this quiet, please…”

  Our eyes turned from saucers to dinner plates. Dinah drew herself up to her full height. “Keep it,” she said. “We won’t tell, will we?”

  Chloe and I slowly shook our heads, still staring with amazement at the money. For a second, a picture of Gran’s smashed cups and saucers, and my sad dad returning the Wigless Witch’s money came into my mind – but it didn’t stay long.

  “You can’t let all those little parsnips and cauliflowers down,” Dinah said. “We’ll just pretend we never saw this. But you can do us one favour.”

  “Name it,” Vera said.

  “Read the letter I gave your assistant – please. My email’s written on it. Then let us know if you will help us with the things I’ve asked.”

  “You got it, darling. No probs. I’ll do it as soon as we get back to the office. And thanks for this. Want the rest of the burger? It’s a bit cold now.”

  Dinah wrinkled her nose. “No thanks.”

  “OK, well – see you around. Bye for now. I’ll be in touch.” And then she was gone.

  “Do you think she’ll read my letter?” said Dinah on the way home.

  “I doubt it,” said Chloe, in her best gloom-of-doom voice. “What a fake.”

  AT least Dinah got her book signed. But I had a feeling we weren’t going to hear any more from Vera.

  I was wrong. Next morning, Dinah came to school with a face like a sack of spanners.

  She’d had an email from Vera.

  But even she had to admit it was rubbish.

  Dear Dinah,

  Thank you so much for your gorgeous letter and fabulous drawing! I was born on February 10th and my star sign is Aquarius. Like many Aquarians I am very romantic and have naturally jet black hair and dreamy green eyes. So, no, I don’t wear a wig or use tinted contact lenses! I always had a great love for the stage and went to a special school for extremely talented children, which specialised in dance and drama. Wasn’t I lucky not to have to do boring maths?!

  My first job was a toothpaste advert (although now I should be doing adverts for fang paste!!) and I never looked back! The highlight of my acting career was being offered the marvellous title role of Vera, in Vera the Vegetarian Vampire! As my true fans, like yourself, will know, Vera is my real name, so obviously the part was destined to be mine!

  Soon I will be fulfilling another dream, that of STARTING MY VERY OWN RANGE OF VEGGIE BURGERS. The slogan is “Even carnivores can’t resist a Vera Veggie Burger”. Do watch out for it, I’m sure you’ll be tempted.

  I’m afraid I can’t answer all your questions in detail. If I replied to all my mail I’d never have time to star in the title role of Vera the Vegetarian Vampire! But I’m sure you will find what you’re looking for on my website www.veraveggievamp.com.

  Keep watching the series. There is a fabulous carrot rebellion being plotted for next week!

  Lots of love,

  Vera

  We read it in dismay under the tree in the playground.

  “That is awful,” said Chloe. “She’s said all sorts of stuff you don’t care about, like what her stupid star sign is, and she hasn’t answered any of your questions. I don’t think she even read your letter.”

  “And I never sent her a drawing! But it’s worse than that,” said Dinah. “I already know all this from the last online newsletter, which I get because I signed up for the website. And the carrot rebellion happened last month! Obviously the assistant just sends out the same email to everyone and changes it a bit to advertise the series.”

  “Did you go on the website?” I asked.

  “Don’t be daft. I’m a fan. I read it every day. There’s nothing about any of the stuff I asked on there.“

  “Yeah, but what did you expect really? We already found out she isn’t who she seems, what with smoking and meat guzzling.”

  “Yeah, she doesn’t put that on her website. And now she’s probably going to make millions out of Vera’s Veggie Burgers,” said Chloe in disgust.

  “Well, she’s no help,” said Dinah, tossing the email in the bin. “We’ll just have to find another way to fulfil our Noble Mission for Furry Rights and save your puppies too.”

  That evening in my room I lay on the bed cuddling my beloved Bonzo. I couldn’t tell Mum and Dad about what had been going on, but though they could see I was upset, they hadn’t made much effort to be sympathetic.

  “Bonzo,” I said to him, “why is it that whenever you’re unhappy about something, grown-ups always just think you are tired or hungry? And if you try to talk about things, they just tell you to go to sleep? Or eat up your dinner?”

  Bonzo looked at me wisely as though he agreed with every word, which I think he did. I expect Harpo does just the same kind of nagging with him. “Wag your tail politely” and “You haven’t sniffed a lamppost all day” etc.

  My Big Idea of educating the puppies had not, so far, been a Very Extremely big success. But at least it’s made me sure of what I will do in the future. I’m going to be a teacher! Mainly of animals, but some kids too – there’s not much difference. Then I could make school FUN and there’d be no more Warty-Beaks.

  To try to take my mind off my troubles, I started work on my magazine, but Bonzo didn’t even look at the pictures when I showed him. This is odd because pets are suppose to be interested when they see other animals on TV. Is it possible my drawings are not very lifelike?

  Eventually I wrote this heartfelt and Very Extremely touching letter t
o the Agony Ant.

  Dear Agony Ant,

  We are five puppies from a close family. We live with our mum Harpo, and our dad Lorenzo lives next door. We look after three humans – a man, a lady, a Very Extremely nice kind thoughtful girl and a small round red loud thing that might be something from another planet. The lady who we look after wants us to leave and says she will get money for us. We will be split up and have to go to different HOMES!

  Is this legal? Is it FAIR?

  We know we are breaking animal rules by showing we can write, but a spaniel down the road told us about your magazine, so we think it is allowed. Also, everyone is out so we got to have a go on the computer.

  Yours truly,

  Marigold, Eric, Fattypuff,

  Gertrude and Bonzo.

  I showed it to Bonzo and he nodded his head wisely.

  “Shall I write a letter back to you from Anty?”

  Bonzo yawned, in what I’m sure was agreement.

  Dear Marigold, Eric, Fattypuff, Gertrude and Bonzo,

  What a truly tragic tail! And a very sad tale too, if I may say so. It is so Very Extremely peculiar, do you not think, that humans think they can do what they like with animals? Research proves that parting puppies from their mothers means that the pups cannot grow into healthy adult dogs. They lose all sense of responsibility and often bite small children or exhibit other forms of criminal behaviour.

  Resist this move if you possibly can. Tell this lady that she can no longer live in your house if she continues with talking rubbish.

  Ask her, how would SHE like to be sold?

  Please let me know how you get on.

  Sincerely,

  Anty the Agony Ant

  I dreamt all night about a tiger who asked me to visit his castle. How nice, I thought. He is treating me like a fellow tiger. But when we got to his castle there were rugs made out of people, and people’s heads stuck on the wall. I screamed.

  “Don’t you like them?” asked the tiger. “I shot them myself. This one’s from Bottomley.” And as we got closer, I could see it was MY head! Then he pounced!

  I woke up yelling with my mouth full of tiger fur and a loud ringing in my ears.

  The fur turned out to be Bonzo’s ear. He has taken over Harpo’s old habit of sleeping on my head.

  Even by break-time, I was still trying to get dog hair out of my mouth, while Dinah and Chloe stood laughing heartlessly at me.

  “It’s all very well fighting for Furry Rights,” Dinah said, “but you don’t have to get in the mood by eating the stuff.”

  “Ha ha,” I said. Or rather, “Plfwaar, plfwaaar.”

  We gradually realised the tall, sad-looking girl with the enormous braces was hovering about, looking as if she wanted to talk. Suddenly a little something went PING! in my brain. Of course! She was the girl who’d I’d seen waiting in the queue to see Vera, on our way out.

  “Shall I come back later?” she said, as I spluttered at her.

  “No, it’s OK,” Dinah said. “She’s just choking on her own dog hairs. We might have to take her to the vet for a dose of paraffin or something. It’s nothing to worry about. What’s your name?”

  “Jolene. I saw you at the Veggie Vampire thing yesterday.”

  “Good, wasn’t it?” Dinah said, not very convincingly.

  “Well…I don’t know. I don’t think Vera takes it seriously enough,” Jolene said.

  “Hmm,” said Chloe. “You might be right there.”

  “You know that letter you left for her?” Jolene said. “The woman you gave it to didn’t even bother to take care of it. It dropped out of her bag on to the floor after you went, so I picked it up.”

  Dinah looked puzzled. “But she must have got it. She sent me a reply. Well, sort of.”

  “She did,” Jolene said. “I made sure the woman took care of it. She was embarrassed in front of all Vera’s fans, so she did.”

  “Thanks very much,” said Dinah.

  “But I’m afraid…”

  “What?”

  “I read it first,” Jolene said nervously. “I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it.”

  Dinah shrugged, but if she was a bit miffed she couldn’t complain. Jolene had tried to help. “S’all right,” she said.

  “And I thought there was something you ought to know about that woman you mentioned in it. Venus Goodchild.”

  “What???” we all said at once.

  We were all interested now. I forgot about the dog hairs.

  “My mum runs the bookshop at Mandleton,” Jolene explained. “Lady Venus Goodchild works at that science place there. She gets driven to it in a posh car every day. I was helping Mum there once when she bought some stuff in the shop. She said she was working on an amazing scientific experiment nobody really understands yet and she was looking for dog parts, or something like that. I was shocked she was so open about it.”

  “That proves it!” Dinah squealed. “She steals animals and experiments on them in that horrible place!”

  “I’ve never heard any screams or howls or anything,” Jolene said.

  “Well, there wouldn’t be, would there?” I said. “It’d be all soundproofed, so nobody got suspicious and the Animal Rights people wouldn’t go and camp outside.”

  “We have to stop her before it’s too late, and the puppies all end up being chain-smokers with eight legs that glow in the dark,” Chloe said. “No wonder she wanted to meet Dinah to talk about a deal. She must be looking for animals all the time.”

  Jolene looked curious. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “We’ve laid a trap for the Dragonous Lady G,” I told her. “She thinks she’s going to meet a crooked animal-trader to buy cheap fur. We’re going to record it and then get it printed in the papers.

  “That’s wonderful!” Jolene said, clapping her hands. “Can I help?”

  “The more the merrier,” Dinah said. “We’re all scared about it, to be honest.”

  “Then count me in,” said Jolene. “Don’t be scared! I’ll bring Melchior. And George. They’ll protect us!”

  “Who’s Melchior? And George?”

  “My dad,” said Jolene, pulling a photo from her pocket. “And his dog. He’s my best favourite person in the world. He doesn’t live with us, but one day I’m going to live with him, because when I’m twelve I’ll be able to choose.”

  When she showed us the photo I thought, yeah, we can do this.

  You could tell Melchior was huge, because Jolene is tall and she only came up to about his waist in the photo. He looked Very Extremely strong, too. The dog was a little cute wiry thing. I didn’t think he’d be much help. But Melchior was the business.

  “Is he a weight lifter?” whistled Chloe.

  “No. He’s a hairdresser,” said Jolene.

  Dinah looked uncertain.

  “But he used to be a bouncer. He’s very fit. And George can stand on his hind legs and shake paws. We rescued him from a circus,” she added proudly.

  “What’s a bouncer?” I asked.

  “Someone who guards nightclubs and throws out troublemakers,” said Chloe scornfully.

  “He looks like just the man we need.”

  So we decided to go ahead with it, even though Dinah was dead nervous. After all, she had the main role.

  The Great Furry Rights Fight was well and truly on.

  I wasn’t sure I could face the Week From Hell to come. The Great Genius Animal Contest was tomorrow. And we didn’t even know if anyone was going to turn up. Then on Monday it was parents’ evening with our great Furry Rights Appeal, and the Big Scary Confrontation with the Red Dragon. Which might not even work, which meant we’d all end up kidnapped AND I’d lose all the puppies. Talk about stress or what?

  “Maybe I’ll just have to run away from home with Harpo and the pups,” I said to Tomato that evening. I made myself feel quite sad thinking of Mum and Dad looking for me, but I felt sadder when I thought how easy it would be to find me.

  Runaway
children may be able to escape on their own, but how could I stuff a huge fat pooch and five puppies up my jumper? Hiding would be impossible. But Tomato took the idea seriously.

  “We could go live with Granny Clump and eat choccies all day,” he said.

  “She wouldn’t give you choccies every day if you lived there Tom-Tom.” Still, I wondered. Maybe we could go to Granny’s – she’s always saying she doesn’t see enough of us.

  That night, the night before the Animal IQ contest, I dreamt about the tiger again. This time it was asking me to tea. “Not if you’re going to put me in a sandwich,” I said. And it laughed a huge roar and I fell out of bed.

  I wonder if I need to see a psychiatrist.

  I arranged to meet Dinah first thing next day to raid her sister Dora’s room for competition prizes for the Great Genius Animal Contest. We couldn’t have left it any later if we’d tried. The competition was in the park that afternoon. Would Dreary Dora sink everything?

  “It’s OK,” said Dinah. “She’ll be out all day doing her Duke of Edinburgh award.”

  That is typical of Dora. If she’s not studying something, she’s doing something hearty up a mountain. If she’s not climbing mountains, she’s nagging Dinah about something. It makes me grateful for Tomato.

  But nicking the prizes from Dora’s room was not as easy as I’d hoped. First, Dora’s room was absolutely disgustrous – there wasn’t even a speck of dust anywhere, or chewing gum, or sweety wrappers, never mind an old sock mountain. Everything was folded and arranged in neat rows or stuck away in drawers.

  “Doesn’t she have any piles of stuff? It’s all so tidy that she’ll notice if anything goes missing,” I said.

  But we’d left it too late for an alternative. We took two CDs (“She never listens to anything except classical stuff. She hasn’t even opened these,” said Dinah merrily), an unopened Barbie Princess set, four old books (“She won’t want these any more; they’re for babies”), a brand new set of forty art pastels (“She never does any drawing”) and a pair of really flashy red high-heeled shoes that looked like something the Dragon Lady would have.