The Sausage Dog of Doom! (3 page)

Rocket boomed.

The volume of the blast snapped the sausage dog out of his yapping frenzy, but he was only silent for a few seconds before he turned towards the other dogs and started wagging his tail
enthusiastically.

‘That last family will be taking me home for sure!’ yapped Oscar. ‘Did you see how quickly they rushed out of here to tell the warden they want me?’

‘We saw them running,’ Poppy said, frowning.

‘They were definitely in a hurry,’ Butch added uncertainly.

‘I don’t think they’ll be coming back again, Oscar,’ Rocket added kindly. ‘We told you when you arrived that the people who come to the Pooch Pound usually go for
the quieter dogs.’

gasped Oscar, yapping three times at the thought of it. ‘And I’m quite small and low down, so they probably wouldn’t see me if I didn’t get their
attention.’

‘You three always make a racket when the families arrive,’ said Oscar, eyeing them suspiciously. ‘Maybe you don’t want them to notice me so they’ll pick one of you
instead.’

‘We wouldn’t do that,’ said Rocket.

‘We can’t let anyone take us home,’ said Poppy. ‘Not yet, anyway.’

‘That’s why we go bonkers when the visitors come,’ said Butch.

‘Why should I believe you?’ said Oscar, remembering his last home with sadness. ‘All dogs want a family who will love them and look after them even if they yap when
they’re left alone all day. I don’t see what makes you three so different.’

said Rocket.

yapped Oscar.

yapped Oscar, and because he wasn’t getting any answers he continued to yap, yap, yap in the background while the three dogs decided on the best course of action.

‘It’s the only way he’ll trust us,’ explained Rocket, tilting his head at the sound of the warden’s squeaky new boots as he locked up the Pooch Pound for the night.
‘And if he makes a racket when we leave, someone might investigate and find us three missing.’

Poppy and Butch nodded in agreement and began clearing away chew toys and bowls, before bunching up their blankets and taking a seat in the centre of their kennels.

‘YAP?’ yapped the dachshund, wondering what was going on.

‘Move into the middle of your kennel,Oscar,’ said Rocket, turning away to swipe his collar, which made its spikes light up around his neck. ‘This is Rocket calling the
Dogstar
,’ he said. ‘Come in,
Dogstar
.’

‘Hello, Captain,’ said the female voice of WOOF, the spaceship’s onboard computer. ‘The
Dogstar
is orbiting Earth above your location and all systems are prepped
for boarding. How many dogs need teleporting this evening?’

‘Three and a half,’ Rocket said with a smile, watching the mini dachshund dashing around on short little legs, clearing away toys and bowls as Poppy and Butch had done.

‘A half?’ said WOOF. ‘That does not compute, Captain.’

‘Make that four,’ said Rocket, remembering that WOOF was a computer and didn’t really understand his jokes. ‘Over and out,’ he added, and moved into position.

The three Spacemutts watched as Oscar bunched up his blanket and trotted to the middle of his kennel, yapping so many questions that he didn’t even notice when the overhead dome-lights
flickered on and off.

‘In space, no one can hear you yap!’ smiled Rocket as four shafts of light shot down from the ceiling.