CHAPTER 6

Freedom! This was all King could think as he ran through the streets of his neighborhood, trying to catch up with Hugo and Lulu, who were both trying to catch up with Napoleon.

Running around these streets without Erin and Cleo felt so . . . different. He could stop and sniff anything he wanted! He could pee anywhere! He could stop and sniff his own pee! He had done this fifteen times, and they had only been running for two blocks.

“Isn’t life more fun without anyone telling you what to do?” Napoleon asked over his shoulder. “Owners can be so strict and stuffy. You were meant to be wild and free!”

Maybe life is more fun without anyone telling me what to do, King thought, licking a dirty rock. He realized he was standing on a forbidden front lawn—Mr. Dunphy’s house—and it felt great.

“Hey! Check it out! I’m eating Mr. Dunphy’s grass!” he called out through a mouthful of grass. Usually Erin would tug hard on his leash when he got near this house, and Cleo would scold him if he thought about eating grass. But not today. “This is awesome!”

There was so much to see and so much to smell and so much to chew on that King almost felt like his brain might explode as he ran to catch up with his friends. If any humans were watching, King wondered what they would think. Would they be concerned to see four dogs running around the neighborhood off leash?

Nah! King decided. They’ll probably be happy and inspired, seeing a group of friends living their best life!

But then—he heard a familiar voice.

“Well, well, well . . .”

King shivered, and the dogs stopped next to a tall wooden fence.

Uh-oh, thought King. He would recognize that voice anywhere . . . He even heard it in his nightmares.

“If it isn’t shelter inmate number 71245,” the silky voice purred from a tree above them. “Running around off leash, I see. I’m not surprised. You know your human didn’t mean to adopt a goofball mutt like you, right?”

It was King’s nemesis. Pickle the cat.

He whined and cowered underneath the tree, then looked up to see her face peering down at him. Pickle was perched on a high branch, looking smug as ever.

The dogs passed by Pickle’s house every day on their way from Good Dogs to the park, and every day she had something new and nasty to say to them from her tree. Usually they just ignored her, since Erin was around. But today they were alone.

“It’s just a matter of time,” said Pickle, “before Erin realizes it and sends you back to the shelter.”

King wished he still had the cone on, so that it could block out the sound of Pickle’s hurtful words. She had a way of figuring out each dog’s worst fear. King wondered if she just sat up there all day, thinking of mean things to say. Pickle glanced from King to Lulu, Hugo, and Napoleon, who had also stopped in the shade of the tree.

“Maybe you’ll be able to share a cell with these two,” Pickle said, gesturing to Hugo and Lulu. “This one’s family would rather have a puppy, and this one doesn’t realize she’s just her owner’s Instagram meal ticket.”

“Pickle!” shouted Hugo. “Stop saying those terrible things!”

But King could tell Pickle had gotten to Hugo, whose ears drooped down as he looked away from the other dogs.

“Sorry,” said Pickle, but King knew she wasn’t. “I’m a cat. I can’t help being smarter than all of you. And more lovable. And cleaner. Way cleaner. And less . . . slobbery. Also quieter. Longer life span. I could go on. And I will! Less smelly. Smarter. Did I say that already? Better at taking care of myself. I don’t need day care like you dogs. More interested in faucets—”

“Enough!” snapped Lulu. Then she turned to King, Hugo, and Napoleon. “She’s a bully. Let’s just keep walking and ignore her.”

And so the dogs started to walk away. Except for Napoleon, who lingered underneath the tree and called after them. “Hold up,” he barked. “Are you just going to let a cat talk to you like that?”

“What choice do we have?” asked Hugo. “Maybe she is smarter and cleaner and more lovable than us . . . I don’t know.”

“She’s definitely meaner than us,” Lulu said under her breath.

“Yeah, but we’re bigger,” said Napoleon. And then he did something really gutsy. He walked over to the base of Pickle’s tree and bumped the trunk as hard as he could with his butt.

The branches shook! Caught off guard, Pickle let out a loud, terrifying yowl and fell to the ground outside of the tall wooden fence. She fell on her paws, of course, but now she was trapped.

“Uh-oh,” she said, looking around. “I’m supposed to be in the backyard! This is . . . the front yard!”

“She’s off her home turf,” yelled Napoleon to the other dogs. “Show her who’s boss! Or . . . are you three too well behaved?”

King watched as Lulu slowly, hesitantly approached Pickle. The cat crouched down, flattened her ears, and hissed.

Lulu cleared her throat and gave Pickle a very stern look. “I do not care for your attitude!” she barked confidently. “Not one bit! This may sound harsh, Pickle, but if you followed me on Instagram, I would not follow you back!”

Lulu wagged her tail proudly as if she’d won the battle. But that’s when Pickle pounced, letting out a loud shriek and slashing at Lulu with her claws, narrowly missing. King ran to Lulu’s side to help his friend, and Hugo did too.

“Why would I care what a silly floofball like you thinks?” said Pickle, getting in Lulu’s face. “You might think you’re special, but it’s only a matter of time before your human gets a big role on a TV show, and then she’ll get too busy to take care of you. Buh-bye! You’ll be the most famous dog at the shelter!”

“So then we agree on one thing,” Lulu said. “Jasmine is very talented!”

Then Lulu summoned a booming growl that made everyone’s head turn. It was even louder and deeper than the sound she’d made in the park to scare Nuts, King thought. She advanced on Pickle, flanked by King and Hugo, and Pickle retreated nervously toward the fence.

The cat gave one last big swat at Lulu’s face, with her claws extended, then darted off as fast as she could, yelling as she went. “BATHTUB! HALLOWEEN COSTUME! BALLOONS!”

“What’s she yelling about?” King whined softly.

“Shh . . . Those are cat swear words,” Hugo explained.

“CUCUMBERS! LOUD NOISES! NEW PEOPLE!” Pickle continued cursing as she ran off.

“That was great!” Napoleon said. “See? Don’t you feel better? You don’t need to let some cat push you around.”

King thought about it. He wasn’t sure if he felt better, or just . . . different. And he couldn’t get what Pickle had said out of his mind. Would Erin really send him back to the shelter if he wasn’t good?

Lulu licked her nose. “Ouch. I think she scratched me with that last swipe,” she said. “My perfect nose, scratched? What will my followers think?”

“Oh, that’ll heal fast,” said Napoleon reassuringly. “And besides, it’s like I always say: You can’t make a point without getting a few scratches on your nose.”

“You always say that?” King asked.

“Hey, everyone,” Hugo piped up as they followed Napoleon away from the house. “You think Pickle’s gonna be able to get back into her yard?”

“I doubt it . . . ,” Lulu said, and they turned back to see the frustrated cat trying and failing to climb the tall fence.

“And whose problem is that?” asked Napoleon. “Not mine, that’s whose!”

“I’m just saying . . . she’s very good at holding a grudge,” said Hugo. Lulu and King nodded. “We’ll definitely hear about this the next time we see her.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that!” Napoleon said, strutting confidently down the street. “We’re dogs! She’s a cat! Real dogs don’t worry about what some cat thinks.”

Whoa, thought King. This guy’s full of wisdom.

“Real dogs don’t worry about what some cat thinks . . . ,” King repeated out loud, thinking about how wonderful it would be to truly believe that. He used to be terrified of Pickle’s tree when he was walking with Erin, but today he’d fought back. King could feel his tail starting to wag.

“Yeah! Why should we let her get to us?” he said confidently.

“Because she has claws . . . ,” Lulu replied softly, wiggling her nose.

Napoleon was getting farther ahead of them now, and he turned to call back to them. “Keep up! There’s more to do, more to see, more to conquer!”

So Lulu, Hugo, and King broke into a run to catch up.