S.P.O.T.S. (Super Powerful Organization of Terriers and Songbird)

by Franklin Young

  Georgie thought that she could use a couple of super barks to knock the wall over. Molly and Buck didn’t think this was a very smart idea. After all, Baby could be crushed by the collapsing wall. But as is often the case with Westies, Georgie didn’t listen to reason. Instead, she took a deep breath and let loose a tremendous bark. Georgie’s noise echoed around the park and bounced back with extra force. The sound waves didn’t knock down the wall, but they did shatter the windows near Baby.

  As the Terriers dodged the falling glass, Baby squirmed and cried even louder.

  “I’m losing the feeling in my paws,” he whimpered.

  Molly shook her head and spoke firmly to the Terriers.

  “This is exactly why we need to work on our super powers. If we can’t control them, they are completely useless.”

  Buck nodded slowly. “You’re right. Practice will start soon as we get that dust mop off of the wall.”

  Duffy growled up at Baby. “I say we leave him up there. Let the vultures get him!”

  “No can do Duff. We gotta help our fellow dog,” said Buck as he stepped towards the wall.

  He puckered his lips and whistled out a stream of mist. The mist floated into the bricks behind Baby and cut through them like a laser beam. Baby’s eyes popped in terror as the bricks melted.

  He didn’t get a chance to squeal as he plummeted to the ground and crashed heavily in front of the Terriers.

  “OWWWW!!!” he howled.

  “You know,” said Sasquatch, “you guys really should have caught him.”

  All five Terriers shrugged in unison as Baby struggled to his feet and staggered away. The distressed Poodle shook off the bits of brick that still clung to his fur. He then looked at the Terriers who were giggling and smirking at him. They may have saved his life, but there was no way that Baby would ever thank them. Instead, he tried to look tough and dignified as he slowly limped away from the school.

  Sasquatch was right; catching Baby would have been the right thing to do. But if he and the Terriers knew what Baby was soon going to do, they would never have helped him off of the wall.

  A SUPER HERO BONDING RITUAL

  After the great poodle rescue, it was time for the Terriers to practice their powers and figure out what they could and couldn’t do.

  Georgie asked Molly if she could use her bark to knock the doors off of Mrs. G.’s cupboards. That way, she could get at the huge box of treats that Mrs. G. brought home the other day.

  Molly shook her head.

  “But I’d share!” Georgie protested. “And they smell SOOO good.”

  Molly was firm. If the Terriers used their powers for selfish things like stealing treats, then they’d surely end up getting in trouble. Even worse, the humans would find out about their powers. Unlike dogs, humans act in weird and unpredictable ways. There’d be no telling what they’d do if they found out that their family pets had super powers. It was a risk that the Terriers didn’t feel like taking.

  “Remember,” pointed out Molly, “one of the reasons our humans love us is that they think we’re helpless without them.”

  The Terriers understood this, but Sasquatch was shocked.

  “You mean to say that dogs play dumb around humans?”

  “No, no, NO!” yipped Jackie. “Not all of us. At least not all the time”

  “Some dogs don’t play dumb, they are dumb.” Buck said as he pointed at Baby who could still be seen in the distance staring at his tail.

  “Also,” said Molly, “we should only use our powers for the good of our neighborhood.”

  The Terriers looked serious as they nodded. They loved their neighborhood. It was full of great smells. Their families lived here, as did their best friends. They would do anything to keep it safe.

  After a short discussion, the Terriers agreed to the following rules:

  1.They had to perfect their super powers.

  2.Their powers had to be kept hidden from the humans!

  3.Their powers could only be used for the good of the neighborhood!!

  4.Their powers could only be used when absolutely necessary!!!

  The Terriers were now more than just friends: they were joined together in a secret club. A club that they felt needed a catchy name. After considering “Doers of Good” or “D.O.G.” and the “Helpful Organization of UNited Dogs” or “H.O.U.ND.” and “Super Terriers United to Foil Fiends” or “S.T.U.F.F.” they decided to go with “Super Powerful Organization of Terriers” which they shortened to “S.P.O.T.”

  It may not have been perfect, but it was a lot better than Jackie’s suggestion of the “Neighborhood Union of TerrierS” or “N.U.TS”

  They now had their powers, their rules, a name for their group, and they even had a team of evil feline archenemies. All that was left for them to do before they became an official legion of super heroes was to create a secret bonding ritual. With that in mind, Molly held out a fore paw.

  “We are the Super Terriers!” she began. “Molly! The power of super strength!”

  Buck put his paw on top of Molly’s and barked out “Buck! The power of super breath!”

  Jackie had to stand on his hind legs to get his paw on top of Buck’s.

  “Jackie! The power of super, super, SUPER chewing!”

  Georgie struggled up on her hind legs and put a paw on top of the others’. Unfortunately, she lost her balance and her face smacked against Jackie’s paw.

  “Owww! You need to get your nails trimmed.” Georgie snapped.

  (Just a thought here. When a dog gets its nails trimmed, is it called a “peticure?”)

  “My nails are fine, fine, FINE!” yipped Jackie.

  “Shush!” ordered Molly. “Teammates don’t fight!”

  With that, Molly lay down and put her paw on the ground. Buck followed her lead and put his paw on top. Jackie and then Georgie did the same.

  “Georgie! The power of super barking.”

  Duffy’s stumpy paw joined the others.

  “Duffy! The power of super eye sight.”

  The others shook their heads.

  “You can’t call it ‘super eye sight’” said Georgie.

  “Really?!” barked Duffy angrily, “WHY NOT?!”

  While no Terrier likes being told what to do, Duffy really hated it. He tried his best to look defiant and intimidating, but even his best friends had trouble taking him seriously at times like this. It might have been the fact that he became upset so easily... or it might have been his poofy hair.

  “Why can’t I use the slogan that I like?” growled Duffy defiantly.

  “Because it sounds lame,” said Buck in a firm, steady voice that made Duffy start to consider backing down.

  “Try ‘super vision’,” suggested Molly.

  The other Terriers nodded. Duffy also thought it sounded good, but he had to save face. After a few moments of huffing and growling Duffy agreed that “super vision” was the best way to describe his power. He then suggested that the gang join paws to reaffirm their unity.

  Thus, the Super Powerful Organization of Terriers was formed. From that day forth, the neighborhood would be protected by a group of feisty dogs dedicated to justice, safety and the pursuit of all things cat and rodent-like.

  A SUPER HERO BONDING RITUAL – TAKE 2

  “Wait a second!” squawked Sasquatch. “What about me? I’m a part of this group!”

  The Terriers stared at the Cardinal.

  Duffy had calmed down enough to say something that everyone knew: “But you’re not a Terrier. You’re a bird.”

  “And we have super powers,” added Georgie. “No offense, but we don’t need you.”

  Sasquatch flapped his wings angrily as he hovered a few inches off the ground.

  “So Miss Super Powerful Dog, tell me something; can any of you fly?”

  The Terriers looked at each other as they had the same thought.

  So they tried to fly. And they tried. And they tried again. And each time, they failed
miserably. Duffy and Molly could barely get their feet off the ground. The closest any of them came was Jackie who could jump twice his height into the air. Impressive for a dog, but you couldn’t call it “flying.” In fact, you couldn’t even call it “taking off.”

  Terriers are strong-willed dogs, so after catching their breath, and despite the overwhelming evidence that they could not, in fact, fly... they tried once again. And once again, they failed miserably. They finally had to admit that despite all of their awesome new powers, flying was something that they just couldn’t do.

  “Big deal,” growled Georgie. “Flying isn’t so great anyway.”

  “Oh really?” taunted Sasquatch as he flew circles around the Terriers. “It comes in pretty handy for me.”

  “Bird’s got a point,” said Buck as he looked over to Molly.

  The old Bull Terrier agreed and told the others that Sasquatch could be a great help to the team. He could help keep an eye on the neighborhood, and would be able to see things that the dogs couldn’t.

  With that, Molly and then Buck put out their paws. Jackie smiled at Sasquatch as he put his paw on top of Buck’s. Georgie and Duffy sighed unhappily, but they joined in the team paw session.

  Sasquatch flew over and landed on top of the paws.

  “Congratulations,” said Molly. “You are now an honorary Terrier.”

  The little Cardinal’s chest puffed out proudly. “Thanks for letting me join ‘S.P.O.T.S.’”

  “What the heck is ‘S.P.O.T.S.?’” demanded Duffy.

  “You know, the ‘Super Powerful Organization of Terriers and Songbird’.”

  Georgie and Duffy pulled away their paws and Sasquatch fell to the ground.

  “No way!” barked Duffy. “We want a name that will scare our enemies. And no one is afraid of a small bird.”

  Georgie laughed and pretended to be a cat.

  “Oh! I am just so scared!” she hissed. “The gang from S.P.O.T.S. is going to chirp so loudly at us!”

  Up until this moment, Sasquatch had been willing to turn the other beak when the Terriers - and specifically Georgie and Duffy - were rude to him. But this, this was too much for a proud bird to take.

  “That’s it!” he squawked. “I’m out of here!”

  As is often the case when animals or people get mad, Sasquatch didn’t really mean what he said. He was just waiting for an apology. This came almost immediately from Molly who was older and much, much wiser than her hotheaded friends Georgie and Duffy.

  “Calm down Sasquatch.” Molly said. “They’re just teasing.”

  Molly looked at Georgie and Duffy who didn’t look like they were “just teasing.” Molly stood up straight and tried to look intimidating.

  “WEREN’T you guys?”

  Georgie and Duffy took a step back from Molly and pretended to be sorry.

  “That’s right.” Grumbled Georgie.

  “Just teasing...” mumbled Duffy.

  Molly looked from the Westie to the Dandy Dinmont and then over to the Cardinal. None of them seemed too happy, but Molly was satisfied that Sasquatch wasn’t going to leave.

  “Good,” she said. “Because we have work to do. Remember, the cats also have super powers. I don’t know what they’re doing right now, but I don’t think they’re fighting with each other.”

  HAIRBALLS

  Molly was right; the cats weren’t fighting or arguing. Instead, they were working together to perfect their powers.

  After eating the fishy cod jerky, the cats found themselves in possession of a number of powers. But unlike the dogs, all five of the cats had the same super powers.

  This happened because cats are more or less all the same. Sure, they may look different from each other, but they tend to do the same few things. Sleep, drink milk, claw the corner of a couch, use the litter box, lick themselves, eat and go back to sleep.

  Compare that to dogs, each and every one of whom has a unique personality. They may share traits with other dogs, and habits with other members of their breed, but each dog is different. Some are friendlier than others, some are more active than others, and some are smarter than others. But they are all different.

  That’s why each of the Terriers had a single, unique skill, while the cats all had the same powers.

  This did not however, work to the dogs’ advantage. Because Peter, Petunia, Puss Puss, Precious and that goon Patches each had four super powers. Their claws were super long and sharp enough to allow the cats to climb almost any surface. And as Baby the whiny Poodle had found out, the cats’ fur was now able to produce huge amounts of static electricity.

  The cats could also stretch out their tongues until they were about three feet long. The rough barbs on their tongues became huge and were so rough that the cats could use them like industrial-grade sandpaper to grind down hard surfaces like walls, doors or, as Patches threatened, “dog’s heads.”

  Their last power was the ability to vomit up and shoot hair balls with great force. Feel free to say “yecch!”, “blecch!”, “fooey!” or any other word that means that something is really disgusting. Because that just may be the most repulsive super power ever.

  To find the gang of cats, we have to travel to the other side of the neighborhood, all the way to the big old abandoned home with its weed-filled back yard. This deserted mansion had recently become the headquarters of F.U.S.S. which was the name that Peter had created for the cats. It stood for “Felines United in Selfish Service.” Even though none of the other cats liked the name, Peter told them that it wasn’t up for discussion; he had chosen the name, and it wouldn’t be changing.

  “Ever!”

  Inside the house, the floors were covered with plaster that the cats had shredded off the walls. The doors of the kitchen cupboards had been yanked off by the cats’ tongues, and the wallpaper throughout the house had been rubbed by static electricity-charged fur until it curled up in strips. As a result, the walls looked like a head full of frizzy hair. If, that is, that particular head was completely flat and the hair looked like colored vinyl wallpaper with dried glue hanging off of it. Which is to say that this comparison isn’t all that good. So, just imagine then that curled up strips of wallpaper were all over the walls. It’s much simpler and really, it’s much more accurate.

  The tour of “F.U.S.S. Central” will now move on to the basement where a pitiful, pathetic poodle was in real trouble.

  “Help!” whined Baby whose pleading was met with a “THWACK!”

  “No! Please!”

  “THWACK!”

  “Stop it!”

  “THWACK!”

  Baby shook in fear and trembled with disgust as he desperately tried to evade the hairballs that the cats were shooting at him. Or was he trembling with fear and shaking in disgust? Not much difference really, but his reactions to his surroundings made perfect sense as all around him were oozing, dripping hairy projectiles from inside a cat’s belly.

  “Y-y-you said I could go home!” Baby wailed.

  “Did I?” asked Peter. “I gueth I lied. Puth Puth! Fire!”

  Puss Puss looked at Baby and gauged the exact distance between himself and the dog. He was busy calculating which angle to release the hairball from as well as the force that he needed to use when he heard...

  “THWACK!” as a hairball - actually, it didn’t really look like a ball; it was more like a huge gooey kidney bean - whizzed past Baby’s face and stuck on the wall.

  “Who did that?!” demanded Puss Puss who had been mere seconds away from unloading his regurgitated missile.

  “Me!” hissed Petunia. “You was taking too long.”

  As Baby tried to quietly sneak away, Puss Puss turned on Petunia.

  “I was simply trying to get the perfect aim you thug! If you’d have put some thought into your shot, you might have actually hit that thing!”

  Petunia was the type of cat that would never slink away from a fight. So there was no way he’d let an egghead intimidate him.

/>   “So maybe you can learn me how to do it, Professor,” he snarled.

  Puss Puss was working on a smart response when he noticed that Baby was sneaking towards the stairs. The Poodle was just starting to imagine that he might be able to escape further pain and humiliation when SPLAT!!! He was hit. The force of Puss Puss’ expectoration knocked Baby over and sent him skidding away from the stairs.

  Petunia nodded at Puss Puss. Maybe aiming was a good idea after all.

  “You promised!” squealed Baby as he weakly got to his feet. “You were going to let me go home if I told you about the Terriers and their powers. Remember?! And where’s that bone you said I could have?”

  “Here’s a lesson for you dog,” purred Patches. “Never trust a cat.”

  Tears formed in Baby’s eyes. It was bad enough that he’d betrayed members of his own species. To him, it was even worse that instead of getting a juicy, fatty steak bone, his reward was to become target practice for the cats. Baby’s sniveling and sniffling sounded truly wretched. If cats weren’t such heartless beasts, they just might have felt sorry for him. But they are, so they didn’t.

  Luckily for Baby, the cat gang was tired. Peter had been making them practice for hours.

  “Maybe we should let him go,” meowed Precious. “My poor tummy is starting to hurt.”

  Peter was about to arch his back and spit, when he noticed that all the cats looked like they’d had enough hairball shooting practice for the day.

  “Perhapth you’re right.” Peter nodded.

  “WAIT!” Yowled Patches in sadistic glee. “Make him run the gauntlet!”

  “No!” squealed Baby.

  “Yeth!” hissed Peter happily.

  The other cats smiled, nodded and began to regurgitate. Baby had just a couple of seconds to try to climb the stairs. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a racing dog like a Whippet. He was just a small poodle and had only made it up three stairs before the hairballs began to fly fast and hard.

  There’s no need for the sickening details of what happened next. Let’s just say that by the time Baby escaped, he was bruised, soggy, battered and completely disgusted.

  Moments later, Peter led the cats out of the house. He was purring out a mixture of happiness and excitement.

  “At thith rate, we’ll be in control of the neighborhood in no time.”