Danger Dog, who is mostly known as Rodney when he’s not wearing a cape, rolled over in his dog bed and snored so loudly he woke himself up. He opened his eyes and looked up into the eyes of a cat, which seriously freaked him out, and he yelped out loud.
“Shhhhhhh, Rodney!” hissed the cat, who just happened to be Rodney’s best friend. “The Human will hear you and I want to talk to you privately, so be quiet or she’ll come in here.”
“Don’t DO that!” said Rodney, his heart still beating like Bill Gates giving a TED Talk. The cat, normally called Jonesy when he wasn’t under covers, looked around furtively, as if he expected someone hidden to suddenly jump out. “There’s a job for you, Rodney, I mean, Danger Dog,” said Jonesy, suddenly sounding as if he were from the Bronx. Only then could the word “dog” have two syllables, sounding like “doe-ogg.” This was done for effect, because Rodney and Jonesy lived in Washington State, in Manchester, within the boundaries of Port Orchard, in an undisclosed human habitat, the imaginary basement of which had been transformed into a Super Hero Home Base called “The Den.” The one human involved didn’t seem to mind this, and didn’t really seem to know what was going on, generally speaking, and spent most of her time in one room, with a coffeemaker and a dorm fridge, and a computer— typing, typing, always typing...
“What’s the job?” asked Rodney, hoping it would involve bacon.
“Shhhhhhh!” hissed Jonesy, who was very practiced in the art of hissing, being a cat who night-owled as a Super Hero. Jonesy came from a long line of hissers, and had won several awards. “Don’t you know how to whisker???” hissed Jonesy fiercely.
“Sorry,” whiskered Rodney. “What’s the job?” He looked around the room, looking for bugs, which, if he found any, would be quickly eaten, no questions asked. He especially enjoyed spiders, and so did Jonesy, but they didn’t fight over them.
“Did you check this room for bugs, dog?” asked Jonesy, also looking around the room for bugs.
“Yeah, cat, I checked it this morning,” said Rodney. Jonesy moved his eyes to look at Rodney without moving his head. Rodney dog-smiled. “I check it every morning.”
“Really?” asked Jonesy.
“Really.” And Rodney licked Jonesy’s face so that the fur on one side stuck straight up.
“Aww, dog, why did you do that?” said Jonesy, pawing the wet fur back down. “Damn, that is so weird. Your tongue is like some kind of electrical torture device or something.” Rodney smiled inwardly and outwardly. He loved the way cats look when their fur is wet, because it never failed to amuse him. “And shouldn’t the word “cat” be capitalized when you’re talking to me?” Jonesy seemed to be poised on the edge of a snit.
“Only if the word ‘dog’ is capitalized when you’re talking to me,” said Rodney.
They looked deeply into each other’s eyes until finally Jonesy broke eye contact and began to clean his whiskers. This was his way of pretending he’d won, but also acknowledging Rodney’s point to be worthy. All part of the complex communication between Super Hero Best Friends.
“So, Cat. Tell me about the job, will ya?” And he sat down, ready to listen. Jonesy whiskered back very softly.
“It has to do with the Mafia. The Squirrel Mafia, Dog.” Rodney took a sharp intake of breath and sat up very straight, like Rin Tin Tin, or maybe Lassie... no, not Lassie... Whatever. And then he looked Jonesy right in the eye.
“Do tell, Jonesy,” he whiskered, looking around as if someone might walk in, “and don’t leave anything out.” Jonesy narrowed his eyes and, after also looking around the room as if there were someone hiding in it, he leaned close to Rodney’s ear.
“There are some Mafia Squirrels that are attacking dogs and cats from the trees in various places along Beach Drive.” Rodney had been holding his breath, which he now released in one big “hoo” while he simultaneously copped a very serious dog attitude.
“That’s IT?” Rodney was tempted to lie back down and take a quick nap, hoping he could return also to the dream he’d been having earlier, which involved his two favorite things: butt scratches and bacon. He almost laughed (in Spanish, because all critters laugh in Spanish, even the French ones), but stopped when he saw the look on Jonesy’s face. He quickly lost his dog smile.
“No, that’s not IT,” snapped Jonesy, giving Rodney several cat slaps upside his head to make sure he took this seriously. “I know this happens on a daily basis, we all know that squirrels are psychotic little rodents with personalities like Karl Schwab—over-focused on nutty stuff. But these squirrels are attacking dogs and cats from the trees…” and he again looked around with squinted eyes, “...using Guano Grenades and—”
“GUANO GRENADES!” barked Rodney. Jonesy instantly sprang about eight feet straight up in the air.
“SHHHHH!!!” he hissed angrily after quickly recovering his pride, and then giving Rodney several judo kicks to his ears. “It’s not just Guano Grenades, Dog! They’re also using the Bomb !” Rodney’s big brown eyes went even bigger, and rounder, too, and resembled chocolate brownie cookies— you know, soft. And mooshy. And kinda gooey—
“The BOMB???” whiskered Rodney, with alarm. Immediately a red cape exploded from the back of his collar and floated out and down around his back, waving like a flag in a breeze, as if there were a breeze... From somewhere came a musical voice sort of half-singing, half-saying, “Danger Dog!” Both Rodney and Jonesy looked around for the voice’s owner. {You’d think they’d be used to this by now, wouldn’t you? But noooo, it’s always the same surprise.}
“Yep,” said Jonesy tipping his head back and speaking in the voice he reserved for really scary stuff, “The Bomb.” Rodney closed his eyes and involuntarily shivered, and so did his red cape...
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Jonesy, “you coming down with something?”
For being a loyal READER of my page, I’m offering the Danger Dog books at a discounted rate of $20 each— that’s half-price! Okay, I know you’ll be dying to find out what happens with those evil squirrels…
Use the PayPal method (sorry to be politically uncool, but… I have no excuse except I don’t know of a better intermediary!). I have your email on my Subscribers list.
I'm impressed. Very clever. And love the drawings too.. And by the way, speaking of politically uncool, I believe you can now also pay through Amazon. In fact, did you know you can buy stamps through Amazon? How far can we be from voting through Amazon?