The Secret Life of Pets 2 Junior Novelization (The Secret Life of Pets 2)

by David Lewman

  Pops was addressing a bunch of puppies and one kitten. “I’m a puppy cute and sweet,” he chanted. “Beg real nice and get a treat! Hep! Hep! Hep!”

  Snowball greeted the old dog. “Hey, Pops.”

  Pops raised his head, looking puzzled. “Who…who’s that?” He and the puppies turned and saw Snowball.

  “Bunny! Bunny!” the puppies all said, excited. They ran straight toward him.

  “Oh, uh…AHHHH!” Snowball yelled as the puppies swarmed all over him. “I am a hero! I need you to respect that!”

  “All right, all right,” Pops wheezed. “TEN HUT!” The puppies scrambled off Snowball and lined up like soldiers. “Puppy School is in session,” the old hound announced.

  “Puppy School?” Snowball asked. He’d never heard of a school for puppies.

  “Now the daily pledge!” Pops told the puppies. “I promise…”

  “I promise…,” echoed the puppies in unison.

  “…to listen to Pops…,” Pops said.

  “…to listen to Pops…,” the puppies repeated.

  “…and learn how to be adorable, wide-eyed, and loving…”

  “…and learn how to be adorable, wide-eyed, and loving…”

  “…to get what I want, when I want it!”

  “…to get what I want, when I want it!”

  “Okay!” Pops said. “Now Pops’s Quiz!” He nodded toward his assistant, a hamster named Myron. “Myron has hidden socks all over the room. Now, what do we do with human socks?”

  A tiny puppy named Princess stepped forward, eager to be called on. “Oh, me! Me!”

  Pops smiled at her. “Go ahead, Princess.”

  “We hide ’em, Mr. Pops,” she said confidently.

  “Correctaroonie!” Pops said, nodding approvingly. “And why do we hide them?”

  Princess sounded as if she was repeating something Pops had told the puppies many times. “Not knowing where one sock is messes with the humans’ minds.”

  “Heck, yes it does!” Pops said, wheezing with laughter. “Always keep ’em guessing! Now go find those socks.” The puppies scattered, searching the room for the socks Myron had hidden.

  But instead of searching for socks, a puppy named Tiny was licking Snowball. “Whoa! Okay, all right,” Snowball said to Tiny. He called to Pops. “Hey, Pops! What’s—” The bunny looked down at Tiny. “Okay, that’s enough! Hey!” Then he looked up and spoke to Pops again. “What’s going on?”

  “My owner got a new puppy,” Pops explained, pointing to Tiny, who looked like a miniature Pops.

  “My name’s Tiny!” the puppy announced.

  “I was teaching Tiny how to not be anyone’s sucker,” Pops said. “Word got out, and suddenly every puppy in the tristate area was scratching at my door.” A chubby puppy named Pickles ran up to him. “Professor Pops?” he asked.

  “Yes, Pickles?” Pops said.

  “I gotta make a poop!”

  “Oh, you know where to do that,” Pops said, chuckling. “Find a shoe!”

  Daisy watched Pops teaching all the puppies and smiled. “This is so sweet.”

  “Yeah, they’re good pup—” Pops started to say. But just then he looked up and saw Hu gnawing on the couch. “Holy cheese and crackers!” he shouted. “WHAT IS THAT?”

  “Myron! Horn!” Pops ordered. The helpful hamster blew a loud air horn. BLAAAT! Hu leapt straight up in the air and dug his claws into the ceiling. He hung there, upside down.

  “No, no, no!” Snowball cried. “Look, it’s okay! This beautiful creature is Hu! And the good news is, he’s staying with you.”

  CRASH! Hu fell from the ceiling, bringing big chunks of plaster with him. “Get that tiger out of here before he does any more damage!” Pops insisted.

  “But we don’t have anywhere else to take him!” Snowball pleaded.

  Pops put on his most stubborn face. “Well, he ain’t staying here!”

  Suddenly, all the puppies pounced on Hu. The tiger loved it! “Kitty! Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!” the puppies squeaked.

  Pops couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “What are you doing? Don’t get attached! That thing is out of here!”

  “Awwww,” said the puppies, super disappointed.

  Pickles walked by. “Oh, Pickles,” Pops said, “did you poop in a shoe?”

  “I pooped in a boot!” Pickles said proudly. “Your owner won’t find it for weeks!” Pops tightened his mouth and sniffed.

  “Are you crying?” Daisy asked him.

  “What? No! YOU’RE crying!” Pops said, trying to hide his emotion. “But I’m just so proud of Pickles.”

  The puppies surrounded Hu with big sad eyes and started whining. “Mr. Pops,” Princess begged, “please can the tiger stay with us? Please?”

  “PLEASE?” begged all the puppies, making their eyes even bigger. Hu made his eyes big, too, looking at Pops pleadingly.

  “Oh, flapdoodle,” Pops said, giving in. “Okay, fine—one night.”

  “YAY!” all the puppies cheered. “WOO-HOO!”

  Pops shook his head. “I taught you guys too well.”

  * * *

  That morning, Sergei stomped past his wolves and stared at Hu’s empty cage. He was furious. “I give wolves one job—guard white tiger! And you wolves, you blow it! Maybe I should make juggling monkey head of security! What say you, Little Sergei?”

  A monkey, Little Sergei, sat on his shoulder. The monkey smiled and clapped his hands, liking the idea of being head of security.

  “Yes, you are so smart!” Sergei said to his monkey.

  Two circus workers carried in the wolf trapped in the carnival ride. Sergei sneered at the wolf, disgusted. “And then there’s this one!” he said. “You’re the worst wolf ever. I swear I—”

  One of the wolves was sniffing something on the ground. Sergei picked it up. It was the flower from Daisy’s headband. “What’s this?” Sergei said, smelling the flower. “This is from thief of tiger?”

  He offered the flower to the wolves. “Yes, smell!”

  The wolves went wild, sniffing and snarling. Sergei removed their collars from the chains holding them. “You bring that tiger back!” he commanded. The wolves circled around Sergei, who pointed at the wolf stuck in the ride. “And if you don’t, that one will be a new coat for Little Sergei!”

  He stomped away, and the wolves tore off down the street, howling. HOWR-ROOOO!

  * * *

  At the same time that morning, Duke was eating from a bowl near the front porch of the farmhouse. Nearby, Max was watching Liam. “Mmm, this is good,” Duke said, chewing. “You should really try this. Mmm!”

  Clutching a book in his hand, Liam looked at Max and said, “Max, book, book, book!”

  “Oh, sorry, Liam,” Duke apologized. “We can’t read.”

  Max trotted over to look at the book. “Well, wait a second,” he told Duke. “There’s no reason we can’t figure this out together, right?”

  Liam opened the book to the first page. “There’s a little girl in a red hood skipping through the forest with some food,” Max said. “Look at that! She’s got food!”

  “Om nom nom!” Liam said, pretending to eat an imaginary snack. He turned the page. A lovely drawing showed the little girl approaching a bed. Someone was in the bed, but the person’s face was in shadow.

  “And look at that!” Max said cheerfully. “She brought the food over to…oh, say, who is that?”

  “Looks like her grandma!” Duke suggested.

  “I bet you’re right!” Max agreed. “Aww, that is sweet. She—”

  Liam turned the page. The person in the bed was clearly a big bad wolf.

  “Ohhhhh,” Duke said.

  “Ahhhhh!” Max yelled.

  “Ummm?” Liam said, confused.

 
“Uh, right,” Max said, trying to come up with an explanation of the picture that wasn’t scary. “So, Grandma had a pet wolf. They had a great visit, the little girl went home, and no one got eaten. The end.” He gave a nervous little laugh.

  Rooster walked up. He’d heard what Max said. “No, no, no,” he said. “That’s not how the story goes.”

  Max shot Rooster a look. “We got this, thanks.”

  Rooster ignored him. “That wolf is going to eat the little girl.”

  “Nope!” Max said. “Thank you, Rooster.”

  “He already ate Grandma,” Rooster continued, “and then he assumed the old lady’s identity.”

  “Noooooo!” Liam howled.

  “Don’t freak out my kid!” Max scolded Rooster. But Liam didn’t really seem freaked out. He was smacking his hand against the picture of the wolf in the book. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! “Take that, Mr. Wolfy!” he said sternly.

  “Kid seems fine to me,” Rooster said, heading off. “You’re the one who’s scared of everything.”

  Max frowned. “I am not! I’m…I’m…tell him, Duke!”

  “Yeah, Max isn’t scared of everything,” Duke called to Rooster. “I can think of, um…” He paused, thinking hard. “Um, yeah, well, there’s a few things…” He tried, but off the top of his shaggy head, Duke just couldn’t think of anything Max wasn’t afraid of.

  “Okay, thanks,” Max sighed.

  “You bet!” Duke said brightly.

  * * *

  That same morning, Gidget stood on the fire escape outside the old cat lady’s apartment with Norman the guinea pig. She wore her cat disguise. “Okay, Norman, this is it. You’re good to go?”

  “Roger that,” Norman said, giving a little salute in the affirmative. He ran up the side of the building while Gidget headed to the window. She took a deep breath and crept through, into the apartment. When the other cats noticed her, they moved forward, unsure of exactly what the new creature was. Suddenly, the old lady stepped between them and Gidget. She patted Gidget on the head and said, “That’s a good kitty.”

  “Meow,” Gidget replied coolly in her best cat voice. Then she turned and hissed at the other cats, daring them to come near her.

  That was good enough for the cats. They quickly lost interest in Gidget. She was apparently just another cat.

  As Gidget walked by a cat scratching the old lady’s chair with its claws, she heard a familiar sound above her head. SQUEAK! SQUEAK! She looked up and spotted Busy Bee on top of a carpeted cat tower. “Busy Bee!” she whispered to herself.

  Gidget started to climb. But when she reached the top of the tower, she saw a gigantic sleeping cat holding Busy Bee. “Oh boy,” she sighed. “Okay, c’mon, Gidget.”

  She tried to slip Busy Bee out of the big cat’s grasp without waking him up, but the cat sunk his claws into Busy Bee. Gidget tried to pull Busy Bee loose. SQUEAK! The huge cat woke up with a roar! “MUROOWWWRR!”

  Gidget grabbed Busy Bee and ran around the top of the tower. “Norman, now!” she shouted.

  “You got it, sister!” Norman said from the vent where he was watching everything. He used a laser pointer to aim a red dot of light next to Gidget. The big cat’s eyes widened. He chased the red dot, trying to catch it. Norman shined the red dot on the floor. The gigantic cat dove off the tower, landing on the floor with a loud THUD! Other cats surrounded the mega-cat. They all looked up at the tower, which was wobbling from the big feline’s jump. WOBBLE, WOBBLE, WOBBLE!

  At the top of the rocking tower, Gidget tried to hold on, but that meant dropping Max’s beloved stuffed toy. “Busy Bee!” Gidget cried as it rolled and fell off the tower, landing on the floor below. The cats on the floor looked up at Gidget and started to climb the tower to get at her!

  “Okay,” Gidget said. “Time for plan B!”

  “Engaging plan B!” Norman responded.

  The guinea pig pointed the laser’s red dot on the tower next to Gidget, where all the cats down below could see it. Gidget reached out her paw, pretending to cover the dot. Norman switched off the laser so it looked like the dot was under Gidget’s paw. Gidget closed her paw and lifted it up for everyone to see. Then she opened her paw and Norman hit it with the laser. It looked as though Gidget were holding the red dot in her paw. The cats all gasped!

  Finally, Gidget opened her mouth and ate the red dot! Norman switched off the laser so the dot disappeared.

  A chubby cat’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. “She caught the red dot!”

  “HUZZAH!” cheered all the cats.

  Gidget leapt off the tower and picked up Busy Bee.

  “She is the Chosen One!” a cat announced.

  “All hail the Queen!” the huge cat shouted.

  “Hail to the Queen!” the cats all cried, bowing down to Gidget.

  * * *

  In a field on the farm, a small herd of steers started a stampede. But before they could get anywhere, Rooster sprinted ahead of them and stared them down. The cattle turned around and headed back to their pen. “Git ’er!” Rooster snapped, nipping at their hooves to keep them in line. “Faster!” The steers quickened their pace.

  Max and Duke watched. “Max, did you see that?” Duke asked, excited.

  “Yeah,” Max said, unimpressed. He was tired and annoyed from his sleepless night.

  “So cool,” Duke said admiringly.

  Max frowned. “Aww, it’s not that big a deal.”

  Rooster ushered the last few cattle into the pen. “Move! Yah! Move it!” He pushed the metal gate closed with his nose. CLANG!

  “Oh man,” Duke said, super impressed by Rooster.

  As Rooster left, a huge pig pushed open a gate and trotted out of his pen into the yard. “Hey, look!” Max said. “That big guy got out!”

  “We’d better get Rooster back,” Duke said.

  Max thought about it, then said, “No. No need for that. I can handle it.” He walked up to the pig, who stood still, looking bored. “Hey, mister!” he called to the pig. “Back! Back inside! C’mon!”

  The hog looked at Max and turned away. Max looked over at Duke, who nodded. “Yup,” Max said. He turned back. The pig was ignoring him. He tried pushing the pig from the side.

  “You’re doing great!” Duke called. “Go underneath him!”

  “Let’s go!” Max told the pig.

  “I think he moved a little,” Duke said.

  Max walked around and got in front of the pig, facing him. “Don’t you ignore me!” he warned. The pig kept chewing a bunch of radishes. Max yanked the radishes out of the pig’s mouth, but the pig just picked up another bunch and started eating them. “Ahh, come on!” Max said. Max jumped onto the pig’s back.

  “Uh, Max, Rooster nips at the sheep to get ’em to move,” Duke suggested.

  Max was jumping up and down on the pig’s back. “Really?” he said. “That sounds drastic, but okay—pig, you asked for this.” He bit the pig’s tail.

  SQUEAL! The pig bucked Max off his back, sending him flying into a fence. WHACK! Max’s impact knocked a few boards out of the fence, and sheep filed out of the new gap. Max staggered to his feet.

  “Hey, Max,” Duke said, concerned. “You okay?”

  “Yeeaaah,” Max said slowly, feeling dizzy. “How’s the pig?”

  Duke looked at the pig, who was still standing outside the barn, eating. “He’s doing good.”

  Looking concerned, Rooster ran up. “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t worry,” Max assured him. “I’m fine.”

  “You let all the sheep out!” Rooster said accusingly.

  “I did?” Max said, confused.

  Rooster ran over to the escaping sheep and barked, “Hey! Get back in there! C’mon!” The sheep obediently turned around and headed back into the pen. “Wait a minute,” Rooster said as he stu
died the flock. “Where’s Cotton?”

  “Oh, he went into the woods,” one of the sheep answered.

  Rooster sighed. Then he turned to Max. “You,” he said sharply. “Come with me.”

  “Where are we going?” Max asked.

  “We’re gonna go get Cotton back,” Rooster said firmly.

  Max swallowed nervously. But he didn’t want Rooster to know he was nervous, so he just said, “Oh, great.” He turned to his brother and said, “Come on, Duke.”

  “Duke, sit,” Rooster commanded.

  Duke sat, saying, “Yup.”

  The farm dog told Max firmly, “This is just you and me.”

  “Oh boy,” Max said, not doing a very good job of pretending to be excited.

  “Come on,” Rooster said, heading toward the woods.

  Max followed him, saying, “Oh, super.” He looked back at Duke.

  “Goodbye!” Duke said.

  Max walked toward the dark, scary woods with Rooster.

  Rooster was bounding through the woods, making it look easy. “Cotton!” he called. “Where are you?”

  Max was finding it much tougher to run through the forest. He had to dodge limbs and sticks and weeds and rocks. It was nothing like strolling down a New York City sidewalk. Brambles caught in his fur, and branches smacked him in the face. WHACK!

  Rooster looked back at Max, who was struggling to keep up. “Come on!” he yelled. “Hurry up!”

  They crossed a stream. Rooster leapt from rock to rock, arriving at the opposite bank completely dry. Max followed as best as he could. Ahead, Rooster was easily jumping over bushes full of thorns.

  Max stopped when he reached the bushes and stared at all the thorns, pretty sure he couldn’t jump over them. “Come on!” Rooster urged. “Just jump!”

  Max lowered himself and then sprang into the air…and right into the bushes. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” he cried as he pulled himself out of the tangle of sticker-bushes.