But my tail sags when Hattie heads out the front door without me. “Bee-have,” she warns, waving her finger before she disappears.
What’s that about?
From the window above the couch, I watch her vanish into Whisker Face and Round Lady’s house across the street. I wait and wait. At last, she reappears. Carrying a Very Large Cage.
Hooray! Hooray! I rush to the door. Hattie was gone for so long and I missed her so much. I can’t wait to play! My tail’s swishing so hard, I nearly lose my balance.
But when she steps inside—eeeee-yooooww! I leap back, my nostrils shuddering at the all-too-familiar stench. It can only be one thing—an Evil Bunny!
Right here in our home! What can this mean? My fur stands up in protest.
Hattie carries the Very Large Cage into the Lounging Place as Fetch Man strides in. He does not smell the least bit surprised that an Evil Bunny has entered our home. He clears piles of books and magazines off the low table as Food Lady comes over. She’s wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her eyes are wide and curious, though she doesn’t smell surprised, either. I sidle up beside them, my hackles raised.
Hattie sets the cage down, and we gather around to inspect her catch. She thrusts out her chest, proud and strong. For obvious reasons! But how did she nab this Evil Bunny? And does the rest of the gang know?
“Thum-per,” Hattie announces, her face beaming. We all lean in for a peek.
The wire cage is half as long as the table. The bottom is stuffed with paper and hay. On the outside is a plastic bottle, and on the inside is a bowl. But that’s not all.
Huddled in the corner farthest from us is a brown ball of fur. And based on the ladies’ description, he’s clearly an Evil Bunny and even worse than I imagined! With whiskers, long floppy ears, and big teeth. Not to mention a nose that’s constantly twitching. His beady eyes are glaring, his wretched voice is growling, and his whole body reeks!
I take a few steps back, even though he’s trapped and unable to attack. For now.
Hattie talks and talks, apparently explaining how she captured the Evil Bunny. Her voice is awfully excited.
Fetch Man and Food Lady exchange glances. He’s nodding, but her eyebrows are questioning.
“Look,” Hattie says. She pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolds it, and waves it at them. She holds it in front of her face and stares at it, her eyes darting from side to side. “Food . . . drink . . . clean-ing . . .” she says.
When Hattie finishes speaking, Food Lady crosses her arms, her head tilting in my direction. Fetch Man does the same thing. “Chores?” he asks, his voice skeptical. “And Fenway?”
Hattie hovers over me. Her expression is serious. “Fenway, sit,” she commands.
I drop onto my bum, gazing up at her the way she likes.
“Good boy.” She squats down to pat my head, and I lick her happy cheek.
Hattie rises, her hand held out toward me. “Stay,” she demands. She takes a step back.
I gape at her like she’s a piece of ripply bacon. When my beloved Hattie gives me that look, nothing can come between us.
“Good boy, Fenway!” She rushes over and wraps me in a hug.
Playing games with Hattie is my favorite thing to do. But isn’t this a strange time for games? The Evil Bunny is sitting right there on the low table, growling with wickedness. We need to remain on guard!
Hattie turns to Fetch Man and Food Lady. “See?” she says.
They exchange glances again. Their eyebrows are questioning.
“Watch!” Hattie scoops me up. She holds my nose frighteningly close to the cage. “Fenn-waay,” she says in her sweetest voice. “Thum-per, Thum-per.”
I flinch. What is she saying? And what is she trying to do? Torture me with bunny stench?
The Evil Bunny emits a deeper, more rumbly growl. He hasn’t moved, but he’s clearly up to no good.
“Best buddies,” she coos, even though it’s not nighttime and she’s not brushing me. But that’s not the only thing that’s wrong. Hattie reaches a finger into the cage and strokes the Evil Bunny’s floppy ears. She couldn’t be petting him. Could she?
The nasty fur ball’s growling sounds different. Is he clicking or clacking? Or purring?
Whoa. Hattie must feel sorry for him now that he’s been captured. Obviously, she has no idea what he’s capable of. As usual, it’s up to me to keep her safe. “Watch it, buster!” I bark at the prisoner. “Or you’ll be sorry!”
Hattie pulls me back. “FEN-way!”
The Evil Bunny glowers at me, his nose twitching with wickedness. And—thump! His hind leg smacks the bottom of the cage.
Yikes! Could he attack from in there? I quiver with courage, my ears and tail drooping. “C-c-cut it out, y-y-you monster!” I snarl. “Or I’ll pounce! Or . . . something.”
“Shhhhh,” Hattie murmurs, patting my neck.
It’s nice to know she approves of my efforts.
Fetch Man and Food Lady give Hattie a look I know all too well. It’s the same look they give whenever she feeds me from the table.
Hattie ignores their eyes. She sets me down and ushers me away from the cage. She turns to the tall humans and gestures at the Evil Bunny, like maybe they forgot he was there. She rattles the cage door, even though it’s latched shut and not opening. She seems rather happy about it. That makes two of us.
Food Lady sighs. “Wah-chim,” she says, then heads into the Eating Place.
The Evil Bunny keeps on growling. He’s probably preparing to make his move.
I give him a sneer. But I take a few steps back. He may be in a cage, but he’s obviously got sinister intentions. A dog can never be too careful.
Fetch Man puts an arm around Hattie. His chattering voice sounds calm and soothing. And slightly bossy. He almost seems like he’s trying to protect her—as if there weren’t already a professional on the job.
While Hattie’s distracted by Fetch Man, I keep my gaze fully on the Evil Bunny. He’d better not try anything while I’m around. Luckily, he’s still cowering in the corner.
Soon sizzling noises waft in from the Eating Place. Delectable aromas of spicy chicken, yummy cheese, and creamy sour cream waft in, too. Yippee! Tacos! I love tacos! My tummy grumbles. My tail thumps. My tongue drips with anticipation.
As we charge into the Eating Place, Hattie glances back anxiously at the Evil Bunny. Is she worried he might escape?
I glance back, too. He doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. But even if he did manage to break out, my expert skills would track him down in a flash. And then there’d be trouble! I shiver at the thought.
We gather around the table as Food Lady serves crispy tortillas, savory chicken, and melt-y cheese. I perch next to Hattie’s seat, my mouth watering, and wait for tasty bits to fall.
As the humans get busy munching and chatting, suspicious sounds drift in from the Lounging Place. My ears perk in alarm, but Hattie goes on chomping her taco, apparently unconcerned. I creep into the hallway, peering at the wire cage.
Aha! The Evil Bunny’s using the humans’ taco diversion as an opportunity to prowl through the hay. He’s clearly up to something. I knew he couldn’t be trusted.
“Fenway, come!” Hattie calls.
I tear back into the Eating Place to the exciting sound of food rattling into my dish. YUM! I dive into the tasty deliciousness, my ears up just in case. With the Evil Bunny so close to my short human, I must be vigilant.
After supper, while Food Lady and Fetch Man clank pans and plates, Hattie opens the tall humming box with cold food inside. Frosty air bursts out.
I’m at her side in a flash. Whoopee! Is ice cream coming? I love ice cream!
But instead of yummy ice cream or vanilla pudding, she grabs an armful of icky carrots, celery, and lettuce. She sets them on the counter.
I cock
my head, watching, as she studies that folded page from her pocket. She snaps and tears the icky vegetables and places them on a paper plate.
I follow her into the Lounging Place and straight over to the cage. Hattie makes “kitchy-koo” noises. She wiggles a carrot through the bars. That’s my girl! Torturing the prisoner with a yucky vegetable!
Hattie tosses the carrot onto the hay. Lettuce leaves and celery stalks, too. The Evil Bunny takes the bait and begins nibbling. “Thum-per, Thum-per,” Hattie sings.
Thum-per? Thumper? Why does she keep saying that? What could it mean?
Hattie pokes a finger into the cage and strokes his nasty fur some more. The way she’s treating him is almost . . . loving.
But it couldn’t be, unless he’s fooled her somehow. I jump up and claw the cage. “I’m on to you, prisoner!” I bark, baring my teeth. “I know you’re up to no good.”
“FEN-way!” Hattie swoops me into her arms. I’m about to tell her that I was only trying to help when through the window I spy a distraction. Across the street, Whisker Face and Round Lady are rushing out their front door. Whisker Face is holding a bulky bag in one hand and guiding Round Lady to the driveway with the other. Her arm is draped over her round belly, her face focused on the car. They seem harried. And hurried.
Hattie gasps with excitement. “Look! Look!” she calls.
Fetch Man and Food Lady get to the window in time to see the car backing onto the street and zooming away. The humans practically bounce with glee. Why are they happy our neighbors are fleeing? The Evil Bunny isn’t in their house anymore. Or are they running from the rest of the gang?
I quake at the thought.
As the sky grows dark, I run to every window I can reach. The gang is out there. I have to be ready.
When it’s bedtime, Hattie goes to carry the cage upstairs. But Fetch Man and Food Lady boss her into the Eating Place instead.
Hattie begs and begs, but they shake their heads. They point at the table, which is curiously draped with old towels.
Her shoulders slumped, Hattie sets the cage on the table. “Thum-per, Thum-per,” she sings sweetly, her face smooshing into the bars. If this is supposed to be tormenting him, she’s doing a pretty bad job of it.
After a long, sad look at Fetch Man and Food Lady, Hattie trudges to the stairs. I leap on her legs. She smells as disappointed as I feel.
“How can we guard the prisoner if we’re up there and he’s down here?” I bark.
She must not have an answer, because she keeps going up the stairs. After a stop in the Bathtub Room, we climb into bed. Hattie kisses my front paws. She brushes my fur and sings, “Best buddies, best buddies.” She smells strongly of mint.
I sigh into each luxurious stroke. My eyes start to close but pop open again with a terrifying thought. Now that we’ve captured one Evil Bunny, what will happen when the gang finds out?
The next morning, Hattie jumps into her clothes. She’s halfway through the door, then whips back to her dresser.
After slipping on the sparkly bracelet, she practically flies down the stairs and into the Eating Place. And I’m pretty sure it’s not because she’s hungry.
I go to help check on the prisoner, but she shoos me out the back door and slides it shut. Does she think she can handle that monster on her own?
I’m about to whine for her attention, but then something makes my hackles flare up. The Dog Park reeks of trouble. Is the Evil Bunny Gang invading already?
A nasty swish catches my eye. Whew! I’m strangely relieved that it’s only a squirrel. I’m after him like a shot.
“I’ve warned you all before,” I bark, racing through the grass. “No squirrels allowed!”
He sits up tall, his unblinking eyes scowling at me. He’s got a lot of nerve.
I’m ready to snap when he flicks his tail in defiance. He scurries to the top of the fence and throws himself over the side.
“Coward!” I bark, leaping up and clawing the slats. When I’m sure he’s really gone, I go after the real target—the Evil Bunny Gang.
I sniff around the bushes. I have to remain on guard. As long as we hold the prisoner, they’re likely to retaliate. At any time!
Snap!
Whoa. Was that a twig breaking behind the giant tree? I freeze mid-sniff, listening. And trembling.
I remind myself that I’m a professional. If there’s even the slightest sign of evil or danger, it’s my job to find it. Those villains don’t stand a chance against me. I sniff my way around the giant tree and along the back fence. The traces of bunny are scant and faint. Clearly, they’re still gone. For the time being.
Click! The Friend Gate swings open. Angel’s face is tilted up at the falling white ball. Thwap! She snags it in her fat glove. She runs up to the porch and leans her face against the screen door. “Hattie?” she calls.
Goldie and Patches hurry over, tails swinging.
“Ladies!” I cry. They huddle around me for the daily greetings.
I drop down on my front legs. A gleam in her eye, Patches leaps up, and we tumble in the grass.
“So, Fenway,” Goldie says. “Found any ‘Evil Bunnies’ lately?”
I flip over, my fur standing on end. “Why do you ask?”
Goldie gazes at me sideways. “Um, because you’ve been obsessed with them.”
“And it’s a good thing, too,” I say. “The Dog Park is bunny-free. For now.”
Patches licks my muzzle. “I still think you’re overreacting, but your heart’s in the right place,” she says kindly.
“Overreacting? Listen to this!” I lower my voice in case the gang might overhear. “There’s one inside our house. In a cage!”
“You’re not serious,” Goldie says with a grimace.
Patches’s eyes widen. “A cage, you say?”
“My Hattie captured him all by herself,” I tell them. “And he’s a totally obnoxious prisoner, too. He made a terrible racket. Probably trying to alert the rest of them. Or escape.”
Goldie and Patches share a disbelieving glance. Patches turns back to me, her face pained. “Fenway, are you sure . . . ?”
“Look, ladies, I don’t want to brag,” I say. “But I have a certain amount of expertise when it comes to pests. My squirrel-chasing skills are legendary.”
“That’s for sure,” Goldie cuts in.
“The bunnies clearly operate the same as squirrels. In evil gangs. Once word gets out that we have one of them . . . if the news hasn’t gotten out already”—I shoot a quick peek at the back fence before going on—“the rest of the gang will surely try to chase us away and rescue him. They’ve already scared off the neighbors!”
“You sound awfully certain about that,” Patches says.
“I saw it with my own eyes!” My tail rises with the realization. “I’ll bet the one Hattie captured is their leader!”
Patches tilts her head in disbelief.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I say. “Hattie calls him a strange word—Thumper. That must mean Leader of the Evil Bunny Gang.”
“Or it could be his name,” Goldie says with a sneer.
I glare at them. “You ladies obviously don’t know bunnies. I have to be ready.” I thrust out my chest. “I have to make sure the gang doesn’t strike.”
“Um, Fenway, about the prisoner . . .” Goldie gruffs. “Do you think he might actually be a new member of the family?”
“No way!” I cock my head. “He’s an Evil Bunny! How could he be part of our family?”
Goldie and Patches share another glance. Then Patches turns to me. “It happens,” she says in her loveliest, kindest voice. “Humans bring home new animals. The others learn to accept it.”
I shudder. “We’re talking about an Evil Bunny!” I cry. “Hattie would never do that.”
Patches gazes at me, her expres
sion wise and gentle. “What would you do if she did?”
“That’s impossible!” I say, trying to make myself taller. “Hattie cares for me. I’m all she needs.”
Goldie gazes at Patches. “That’s what I used to say.” She wanders off and sprawls out in the grass with a sigh.
“What’s gotten into her?” I ask Patches.
“That’s a story for another time,” she says. She plucks a stick, clearly expecting me to chase her around the Dog Park.
How can I play at a time like this? That Evil Bunny Gang might be plotting their invasion. They could be tunneling into the Dog Park at any moment. I have way too much work to do.
I trot along the back fence where I last smelled the Evil Bunny Gang. I paw the dirt, digging for clues. If those bunnies are planning an attack, I’ll be ready.
Goldie and Patches are not professionals. They don’t understand evil creatures the way I do. Thumper is obviously a prisoner. Why else would he be trapped in a cage?
I sprint over to the wire fence that surrounds the vegetable patch. It smells a lot like the lettuce Hattie fed the prisoner last night. The Evil Bunnies caused the trouble with the plants in this very spot. That was probably just the beginning.
I begin to dig alongside the vegetable patch, sniffing like crazy. If those criminals have returned, I’ll be the first to know.
F-f-f-f-t! The sliding door opens. Hattie appears on the porch. She pulls on her cap and grabs her fat leathery glove. Except for Angel’s jacket and Hattie’s bare arms, the two short humans are dressed exactly alike.
Or actually there’s one other exception.
Hattie’s stuffing her hand in the glove when Angel points at her sparkly wrist. “What’s that?” she says, her nose scrunched up.
Flinching, Hattie slips off the bracelet and shoves it in her pocket. “Nothing,” she mutters, then races off to the other side of the Dog Park.
Angel tosses the white ball. Thwap! It lands in Hattie’s glove.
Hattie clutches the ball like a prize. She winds up and throws it back to Angel. “Woot!” she cries when Angel snags it. “Fenway, park!” She twirls and dances around.
Fenway and Hattie and the Evil Bunny Gang Page 4
