A Double Dose of Driving Dogs
“Here’s our reserve car,” announced Marmaduke. Around the corner rolled a red
Siren Sprinter, even sleeker than the first.
“Do you think we can do this?” asked Ragbag doubtfully. Horace took off his
goggles and scratched his head.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to drive like I’ve never driven before,” he said.
“We should scrag that car!” squealed Boo. “Rip its tyres off! Paint over its
windows! Stuff dandelions into its engine!”
“No chance,” said Kimi. “I’ve done my bit. My teeth are still aching from biting
through the oil seals.”
“I don’t want any cheating,” Horace told them sternly.
“But then how will we win?” croaked Silverside. “I’m hoarse. I can’t growl any
“I’ll get all the other dogs to growl,” suggested Ragbag, and she bounded off to
“We might need to do more than that,” sighed Horace.
Regretfully, he began to unstrap the bungee ropes from the dog-house. He gave
them back to Boo, who scampered away with them.
“Give me a hand, Silverside,” said Horace, and he began to lift down the dog-
house from the lawnmower. “This keeps slipping. It’s a shame, but we’ll go faster
without it. We need to streamline.”
Tickety carefully folded the tail fins back. “There,” she said. “That should help
too. Good luck, Horace!”
“Get ready to growl!” barked Ragbag at the audience.
“Get ready to lose!” jeered the cats.
Pibbles was installed in the new red Sprinter. Its engine revved.
Two dozen dogs growled in answer.
And then a deep, stern bark rang out across the car park, louder than any of the
“Halt! Just stop right there, you canine criminals! You’re nicked!”