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A Double Dose of Driving Dogs


Daft dog, indeed! thought Horace indignantly. Wasn’t it obvious what he was
doing?
He zoomed around the garden some more. When Joshua tried to catch him, he
swerved across the geraniums and landed in the compost heap.
Joshua shook his head. “Poor Horace,” he said. “He must be ill.”
Horace lay there panting. His nose was full of interesting compost smells. But his
head was buzzing with far more thrilling things.
The roar of racing cars! The throaty call of engines! The sound of speed as motors
flashed across the desert!
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