For the previous tales in the Perilous Pet Shop Series, go here.

Birdie stared up at Frankie’s father, her mouth swinging agape.  “Be serious,” she accused, crossing her arms.  If this was another grown up prank, she was not in the mood for it.  “I know I’m just a kid sir, but I know better to believe that there’s a elephant hidden in that shop.  The only thing I saw was the dog and fish.”

Frankie’s father shook his head, his freckled cheeks a neon pink.  “Birdie, the only reason I’m telling you this is I assumed you would believe me.  Only my editor knows down at the paper and to be frank, I think she’s convinced I’m off my rocker.  But I know there’s an elephant there.  I can’t forget about it.”  He rubbed his temples, frowning.  “And except camping out all day, there’s nothing I can do.  The owner already suspects me, that old geezer.”

“Percy?” Birdie asked sympathetically.  “He was a weird guy.”

Frankie’s dad dropped his hands and stared at Birdie.  “I never saw anyone but a grizzled old man–Mr. Pemberly.  There’s another employee?”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Birdie shrugged.  “I didn’t mean to bother you, sir.  It’s just after the fish and the dog–and all the empty cages”–

“Empty cages?”  Frankie’s father’s eyebrow arched.  “What empty cages?”

“Why, the ones on the walls, of course,” Birdie replied, her forehead wrinkled.  “All the gerbil and hamster cages were empty.  No birds, no rodents, no puppies or kittens.”

“They were all full when I was there,” Frankie’s father mused, stroking his bare chin with his hand.  “Maybe they sold out.”

“Of every animal in the store at one time?”  Birdie blurted out.  She pressed her lips together, folding her hands.  One of these days, she’d learn to quit talking back to adults.   Unlike her parents, she’d learned not every adult appreciated children having a brain.

Frankie’s father shook his head and sighed.  “Of course, you’re right.”  Glancing at his watch, he gestured toward the door.  “We better get to dinner before Frankie’s mom has a heart attack.  Don’t worry, Birdie.  It may take me awhile, but I’ll figure out the mystery of the shop.”

Slipping out the door in front of him, Birdie waited until she turned the corner of the hallway to mutter, “Not before I do.”

Later that evening, Birdie walked home deep in thought.  Frankie’s parents had wanted to drive her and she had declined.  When they had fussed her parents would be furious, she laughed and reminded them that her parents would be furious she wasted fossil fuels and added to pollution rather than getting exercise.  Besides, her parents were too wrapped up in yoga and horticulture experiments to notice she was even gone.  But she didn’t tell Frankie’s parents that–they’d probably try to adopt her.  And as much as Birdie liked Frankie’s family, she had no yearning for eight siblings.

As Birdie pondered what Frankie’s father had told her about the pet shop, a rustling stirred the bushes besides the sidewalk.  Birdie froze, her eyes glancing left and right.

“Who’s there?” she called.  “Who are you?”

The bushes rustled again, louder and closer.  Birdie scanned the sidewalk, her eyes skimming the street, the trees, under the streetlight.  In the distance, she heard an owl hoot.

“Who’s there?” she called out.  “Show yourself.”

The bushes rustled again, only a few feet from her.  She heard a ragged panting and whirled around.  In the center of the bushes, two eyes shone in the dim light.

“Come out,” she commanded, praying there wasn’t some demented pervert hiding in the bushes.  “Come here, now!”

With a whimper, a ragged puppy crawled from the bushes.  It was a King Charles Cavalier spaniel, a purebred on first glance.  Birdie dropped to her knees and scooped the muddy and wet puppy into her arms, ignoring the mess on her school uniform.  The dog’s left paw was bleeding and it’s ear had been scratched.

“You poor thing,” Birdie whispered, scratching the dog’s head.  The dog leaned against her and sighed, it’s tiny stomach rising and falling against her arm.  “You must have had a terrible night.”  She ran her fingers over the dog’s neck, her fingernails catching on something thin and hard.  Pulling gently, she frowned at a thin gold chain gleaming in the streetlight.  Sliding it over the dog’s head, she found a small golden disc.  Holding the disc up in the light, she peered up at it.

“PPS,” she read, curling her arm around the nuzzling puppy.  “PPS.  Is that your name, your owner maybe…?”  She looked at the dog.  The dog stared up at her with wide black eyes, not answering.

Sliding the chain into her pocket, Birdie shifted her backpack over her shoulders and struggled to her feet, clutching the dog against her chest.  “Come on, puppy,” she murmured to the dog, resting her chin on the soft fur.  “Let’s get you home.”

***

The next day after school, Birdie had decided the little dog was hers.  She had called the pounds, several vet offices, the rescue organizations and the local newspaper.  Not only was no one missing a dog, but no one seemed to want one either.  “Don’t bring her here,” one cranky animal shelter worker snarled at her over the phone.  “We’ve got enough dogs who need homes.  And the last thing I need is a puppy.  Puppies chew and pee.  I got enough chewing and peeing.”

“Then perhaps you should find a new career,” Birdie had snapped, hanging up the phone.  Beaming, she dropped to her knees and gathered the puppy in her arms.  After a bath and flea treatment, the dog looked more regal than ragged.  Stroking the silky copper ears, she perched her chin on the dog’s head.

“It looks like you’re home for good, if that’s all right with you,” she murmured.  The dog licked her chin and she laughed.  “Any name you’d like to have?”  The dog barked, sticking her tongue up Birdie’s nose.  Birdie laughed, rubbing her face with her arm.

“I agree,” she replied.  “I think Sassy fits you perfectly.  Now, let’s get you to the vet for your puppy shots.  And we’ll stop by that pet shop on the way for a leash and collar.”  Tucking the dog under her arm, she clumped downstairs.

“Where are you going, dear?” her mother called.

“Taking my new puppy to the vet and pet shop,” Birdie called, slipping on her shoes.  She never lied to her parents.  She didn’t have to.  They didn’t pay much attention.

“That’s nice,” her mother called.  “I have yoga tonight, so eat whatever you like.  There’s hummus and lentil soup in the fridge.”

Birdie wrinkled her nose.  “Thanks!” she called.  Shutting the door, she headed down the sidewalk towards the Pemberely Pet Shop.  “I could get a leash and collar at the vet,” she confessed to Sassy.  “But this is a good excuse to check this shop out again.  This strangest things have been happening there.  And maybe tonight, after the vet, we can go by Frankie’s and introduce you.”

The dog sighed, nestling into Birdie’s arms.

Several blocks later, Birdie turned the corner.  As she approached the pet shop, Sassy began to pant and whimper.  Thrashing in Birdie’s arms, she clawed and struggled as Birdie stepped closer to the pet shop door.  “What’s wrong, girl?” Birdie asked.  “What’s wrong?”  Glancing up at the shop door, she sucked in her breath.

“PPS,” she whispered.  “Pemberely Pet Shop.  That’s where you come from!”  Her face darkening, Birdie scowled.  “They must have done something terrible to you.  To all the animals!”   Rage snaked through her veins and adrenaline pounded in her ears.   Tightening her grip around Sassy, Birdie stormed inside the shop with a snarl.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have a delectable recipe and Friday, a new Dallas Jean!  Stay tuned!