6 p.m.
Okay, okay, okay… I’m not dead! I may have overreacted a little, but that was a close one, I’m telling ya!
I finally managed to distract myself from all the yumma-lumptious smells by sneaking into Jawjaw’s room and stealing one of the creepy little plastic humans she keeps on the shelf above her bed.
Hey! Don’t judge me, all right? These are desperate times, and only one of the forbidden chew toys was enough to take my mind off things. Who could blame me at a time like this, anyway?
I’m never supposed to go in Jawjaw’s Sleep Room. She gets super grumpalicious if I ever sneak inside. Yep! It’s strictly out of bounds… so, of course, the things inside her room taste far more interesting than anything else around the kennel.
I’ve stashed it in Ruff’s laundry pile for now, though. He’s been calling me from the Picture Box Room and I don’t want to be found out. I’ll go see what he wants…
7:33 p.m.
Check, check… This is roving reporter Junior Catch-A-Doggy-Bone, coming to you live from the comfy squishy thing.
Ha ha! Just joking with you! I’ve always wanted to say that after seeing it on the picture box.
But… guess what? Ruff and I snuggled in to watch a TV show all about Fangsgiving and I’m learning heaps about it. I mean… my understanding of the Peoplish language is a little crummy, but I think I’ve got the basics of the Fangsgiving story. Wanna hear?
Okay… settle down, get all comfy and listen to this…
THE STORY OF FANGSGIVING
Long, long ago, when the world was practically a puppy and Meaty-Giblet-Jumble-Chum hadn’t even been invented yet, a pack of Pilgrim Pooches and their pet humans swam all the way to Hills Village from the other side of the planet. WHOOO-WEEEE, that’s a long way!
They bravely traveled into the unknown, looking for a life filled with mountains of treats, super-tickly tummy-rubs, and a comfortable place to poop, but when they arrived, they discovered a pack of majestic native Hills Village-ians instead.
At first, the Hills Village-ians and their hunting hounds were very wary of the Pilgrim Pooches and their pet humans, but before long they all got together for a doggy-licious dinner party—they ate a lot, danced a lot, and ever since then, on the fourth Thursday of November, families get together to celebrate and give fangs to those who need ’em. That explains the name of the howliday!
THE END
There! I definitely missed a few facts along the way, but I’m pretty sure I got most of the story right. It all makes so much more sense now… sort of…
10:30 p.m.
I can’t sleep, my furless friend. Everyone headed off to their Sleep Rooms early, ready for a big day of celebrating tomorrow, but I just can’t get the thought of all that marvelous meat out of my brain.
I’ve tried everything I can, but nothing works! Putting my head under Ruff’s pillow. Lying on my back with my paws in the air. Counting sheep in my head. That last one is something Old Mama Mange told me to try when we were having a bad night back in pooch prison. But before I’d even realized it, the sheep had transformed themselves into cans of delicious turkey and were taunting me with their tastiness.
11:08 p.m.
There’s nothing for it, my person-pal. If I stand any chance of getting to sleep tonight, I’m going to have to go and take just the tiniest of peeks at what Mom-Lady has prepared in the Food Room.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re reading this and saying, “No! Junior, you’re going to get into so much trouble! You’ll never be able to resist all that tummy-tingling food!” and you’d be right… normally.
But… I have a cunning plan. Just to make sure I’m not tempted to snack on anything and get myself into hot water, I’m bringing along Jawjaw’s creepy little plastic human I stashed in the laundry pile earlier. That way, if I have any sudden urges to gobble up what Mom-Lady’s cooked, I can chew on the plastic toy instead. IT’S FOOLPROOF!
11:45 p.m.
Psssst! Are you there? Oh good… it’s so dark in the hallway.
Okay, I’m just going to sneak into the Food Room, take a quick look around, and I’ll be out of there and back on the bed in a jiffy. No harm done, right?
Here I go…
Midnight
HOLD EVERYTHING!!! I know it’s late, my furless friend, but I’ve just gotta tell you about what I saw. You wouldn’t believe your person-peepers.
I nudged the Food Room door open and was instantly hit by a dizzying mix of fantastic aromas and delicious whiffs. One of the little lights above the counter had been left on, so I got a good view of everything, and… well… I’m not afraid to admit it brought a tear to this mutt’s eye.
The table had been decorated with fancy cloths and decked out with flowers and candles and more of those little exploding orange vegetables. Mom-Lady had been baking all day and there were biscuits and rolls piled up under a glass dome.
The kitchen counter was lined with bowls and dishes of tasty-smelling foods and sauces, waiting to be cooked and feasted upon for tomorrow’s Fangsgiving dinner, and…
I looked up…
I looked down…
I sniffed in every corner of the room…
Where was the enormous can of turkey? It had to be here someplace.
I snuffled about the room for a few minutes, trying to figure out where it could be. The turkey can wasn’t on the table, and it wasn’t lined up on the counter ready to be cooked.
Just then a thought flashed across my barky-brain and I gasped. There was only one place Mom-Lady kept the meaty food before she cooked it in the hot fire box for dinner…
I put Jawjaw’s creepy plastic human on the floor, then grabbed one of the stinky wash cloths from its hook. Swinging my head from side to side, I managed to loop it through the coldy frosty tall thing’s handle. Then I pulled with all my mutt-might.
At first the door didn’t want to budge. I struggled and tugged but nothing moved.
I couldn’t give up now! There was no way I was going to leave the Food Room without seeing the turkey for myself. With thoughts of the giant can of meat skipping across my mind, I gave it one last enormous yank and the coldy frosty tall thing burst open in a cloud of chilly fog.
For a second, the bright light from inside the tall box blinded me and I squinted my eyes against it. My fur prickled with a mixture of excitement and the icy air that swirled around my paws.
This was it: I was going to see the…
AAAAAAAAAGH!!
Suddenly my houndy heart leaped up into my throat as I saw what was sitting in the fridge.
There must be some mistake. Had Mom-Lady gone absolutely crazy?!
Instead of a neat tin can filled with squidgy blobby globs of turkey, she’d brought home some kind of giant headless BALDY BIRD!!
I scampered across the floor and darted under the table, expecting the ugly creature to attack at any moment.
Safely tucked behind the tablecloth, I tried to stop myself from panting with surprise and listened as hard as I could for signs that the great big baldy beast was preparing to pounce.
I waited…
I waited…
I waited…
Nothing.
Sniffing the air, I peeked out from under the cloth and stared at the weird animal sitting in the open coldy frosty tall thing. I gave it a few test growls and even tried darting toward it and then running away very fast to see what it did.
The baldy bird didn’t move.
I sniffed the air again and caught the scent of salty, fatty deliciousness. It was even better than the pong of Meaty-Giblet-Jumble-Chum!
Maybe this beast in the cold box wasn’t a dog-eating terror from the land of nightmares.
I crept back toward it, preparing to dart away at a second’s notice, but still the creature didn’t move.
It just sat there like Lola after she’s gobbled down a full bowl of Doggo-Drops.
Now I was close, I could see it was sitting in a big tray fil
led with sliced vegetables and green leafy stuff. Mom-Lady had covered it in zingy-smelling oil and sprinkled salt and pepper all over it. WOWZERS! This was one pampered partridge… a glamorous goose… A LUXURIOUS LUNCH!! Ha ha!
There was an opening in the baldy bird (I think it was its mouth), and Mom-Lady had put lots of sliced lemons and tufts of green stuff in there. I guess the strange thing must have been hungry.
Just then I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the salty and peppery baldy bird. It certainly wasn’t going to be able to join in the fun of Fangsgiving after it went to cook in the hot fire box tomorrow morning, so I decided to give it a gift, just from me. It is the Howliday Season, after all…
I grabbed Jawjaw’s creepy little human and placed it in with the sliced lemons and tufty leaves. That way the baldy bird could have one last night of waggy-tail-icious snacking on one of the tastiest forbidden chew toys in the whole kennel. It was the least I could do…
12:24 a.m.
My work here is done, my person-pal. I’ve seen the festive baldy bird… I’ve spread a little howliday cheer… and I can feel a long, happy nap coming on.
See you tomorrow!
Thursday
6 a.m.
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP! Good morning, my furless friend. It’s finally here!! Fangsgiving has arrived and I can’t wait to celebrate with my new set of gnawy-gnashing fangs. I might try chewing through the tree in the backyard this afternoon! That’ll surprise the raccoons!! Ha ha!
I’m just going to race about the kennel and wake everyone up the way they enjoy the most… with a good paw-poke right in the center of their forehead. Won’t be a sec…
10 a.m.
No one has handed out the new teeth yet but Grandmoo’s come over with cookies of the human and canine variety, and we’re watching a huge parade on the picture box.
I swear I’ve never seen anything like it, but I couldn’t be a happier hound… well… not until the feast. Ha! I can’t wait to try great big baldy bird for the first time!!
2 p.m.
It’s time!! We’ve all been summoned into the Food Room and we’re preparing to sit down and feast together as the Catch-A-Doggy-Bone pack. Mom-Lady is even going to let me sit at the table with my own dog bowl filled with delicious dog-elicacies.
2:12 p.m.
Oh, you should see it, my person-pal! The table is all set… I’m not sure what all the foods are, but I listened real hard to Grandmoo, and as far as I can tell there’s…
You name it, Mom-Lady has cooked it!
The only thing we’re waiting for now is the grand finale!! The great big roasted baldy bird! It’s going to be SPECTACULAR!!
2:16 p.m.
UH-OH! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!
Mom-Lady has just pulled the bird from the hot fire box and already I can smell that something isn’t right. My nose is super, super, super stronger than my pet humans’ and I don’t think they’ve noticed it yet, but I definitely smell a plastic-ish, funky stink coming from the roast. Something tells me I maybe shouldn’t have put Jawjaw’s creepy little human inside the baldy bird before it was cooked.
I’ll just keep quiet and hope no one notices…
4 p.m.
So much for no one noticing, my furless friend!!
One minute it was “HAPPY FANGSGIVING!” and the next it was…
I RUINED FANGSGIVING!!!!!!!
5:26 p.m.
Oh, it’s awful, my person-pal. I’ve never felt so rotten in my mutt-life.
Mom-Lady was furious when she found the melted creepy plastic human inside the turkey. I thought she was going to breathe flames and explode like one of the little orange vegetables!
To make matters worse, Mom-Lady blamed Jawjaw and sent her straight to her Sleep Room without any Fangsgiving snacks at all. I tried to explain that it was all my fault, I really did, but my pet humans are crummy at understanding Doglish and they just stared at me like I’d gone loop-the-loop Crazy with a capital C!!
I never intended to spoil the Fangsgiving feast and, even though I’m not one of Jawjaw’s biggest fans, I didn’t want to get her into trouble.
7:14 p.m.
Okay, my furless friend. I’m keeping a seriously low profile behind the comfy squishy thing in the Picture Box Room.
Mom-Lady ended up having to call in pizza, which put her in an even moodier mood after all the care she’d taken with the big baldy bird.
But… it’s not all bad… I guess… Ruff managed to convince his mom to order a triple chunky cheese and hot dog pizza with extra-crunchy crusts. OUR FAVORITE!!
Grandmoo complained all evening…
… and Mom-Lady refused to eat a single slice out of sheer grumpaliciousness, but Ruff and I actually had a pretty GREAT Fangsgiving feast all to ourselves.
I suppose you could almost say that by breaking the rules and sneaking into the Food Room when I wasn’t supposed to… and putting the creepy little human (which I wasn’t supposed to have) into the big baldy bird… and accidentally making the whole meal taste like burnt plastic… I actually improved the howliday, right?
OF COURSE I’M RIGHT!
Without my expert help, there would NEVER have been triple chunky cheese and hot dog pizza with extra-crunchy crusts at the Fangsgiving table… and everything’s better with pizza. Ha ha!
Yep—after careful consideration, I’m pretty sure I actually saved the day.
I’m going to sleep well tonight, my person-pal. I just wish I could figure out when they’re going to hand out the brand-new sets of fangs…
Saturday
10:20 a.m.
Hmmmm… I may have been a little wrong about saving Fangsgiving, my person-pal.
I mean… I definitely think I definitely saved it definitely… but Mom-Lady is still super mad about the feast being ruined and I’m pretty certain Jawjaw is on to me. In fact, I know she is!
She keeps scowling every time she sees me… and… well… I wouldn’t really mind—after all, Jawjaw used to scowl at me long before I spoiled the big baldy bird—but now she keeps muttering two words under her breath and they’re the worst thing a mutt like me could ever want to hear. Especially from someone in his own pack.
It’s true. Every time Jawjaw spots me in the Picture Box Room or she walks past Ruff’s Sleep Room door and sees me curled up on the bed, she scrunches up her face and hisses…
Oh! They’re the ugliest, scariest, most hateful words. My spine judders and I get a sickly swooshy feeling in my belly whenever someone says them out loud. It’s left me feeling even guiltier than the time I buried Jawjaw’s science project in the backyard and she got an F in class. That was a tail-between-my-legs kind of day, it really was, but this feels far worse…
Don’t get me wrong—it’s not the words Jawjaw said that are so horrible. It’s what they mean and what they can lead to that scares us mutts. “Bad dog!” means no snacks. It means no tummy-rubs, or playing fetch in the dog park, or snuggles at bedtime, and… and… it can even mean a one-way ticket straight back to POOCH PRISON.
Ugh! I can hardly bring myself to say it!
I can’t bear to think about Jawjaw seeing me as a B… a BA… a BAD… Oh, you know what I’m trying to say.
But triple chunky cheese and hot dog pizza with extra-crunchy crusts or no triple chunky cheese and hot dog pizza with extra-crunchy crusts, I can’t let anything else go wrong this Howliday Season.
I’ve been hiding in the Rainy Poop Room a lot over the past few days and I’ve come up with a foolproof plan to make sure the Catch-A-Doggy-Bone pack have the best Critter-Mess Day EVER. I’ve decided that…
11 a.m.
Phew! I feel much better, my furless friend. If I make sure to keep that in mind from here on out, I know I can save the festivities and make this a Howliday Season to remember. That way, no one will ever think I’m a BAD DOG again.
1:21 p.m.
Ooooh! Ooooh! Ooooh! That’s enough worrying for now, my person-pal. You won’t believe what I’ve jus
t seen.
Mom-Lady needed to go to the grocery store across town and she said I could go too for a walk. YIP-YIP-YIPPEE!!
Now, I always love taking Mom-Lady for a walk. It’s not as much fun as going with Ruff, obviously, but it definitely has its perks.
If I wait patiently outside and don’t bark at the other shoppers as they rattle about with those strange shopping cages on wheels, she buys some slices of chicken from the deli counter and gives me a piece.
And that’s not even the best part!
Mom-Lady really likes exercise and always takes the long route home, which means… DOGGY DRUMROLL, PLEASE!… we come back home via the Dandy Dog store!! It’s one of my favorite places to visit in all of Hills Village, and I know that if I’m super good and I don’t tug on the leash too much when we’re walking, we can go in and have a good snuffle around.
I wish you could experience it, my person-pal. Behind that big green door is a pooch paradise, the likes of which you’ve never seen before. It’s a dreamland for dogs! HOUND HEAVEN!!
I get so excited when we go inside, I can’t help but jump and yip about like a pup in a playground. It’s a little undignified, but there’s nothing I can do. You’d feel the same if you saw it, my furless friend, I just know you would. The Dandy Dog store is an entire shop filled with treats and snacks and toys and blankets and beds and balls and everything a dog could ever wish for.
Happy Howlidays Page 2
