by Mary Grace Mauney “What will we do?” Elli howled, “What will we do?”
“Call for help!” said Emmi, and, reaching deep into Elli’s long silky mane of white fur, pulled out the cell phone that they kept there for emergencies.
“But…but…then Mister Migs will know we failed!” said Elli.
“I think he’ll know that anyway when the truck fails to show at The Pet Set,” replied Emmi, dialing by tapping her little nails against the keys, “But if we ‘fess up now, I bet he and the team can stop that Mig-burglar somehow!”
They called and explained the situation to Mister Migs, and Emmi was right. Instead of wasting valuable time chewing them out for their mistakes, Mister Migs immediately began making plans to fix them, and putting those plans into action.
“Where are you?” he asked, “What direction did he drive in?” “Telipa Trail, he’s heading north!”
“Then he’ll be coming up on Latrans Lane next,” Mister Migs said, “Hang tight, you two; I’m gonna make some calls.”
And he did. He called up every client and friend in the area that he had, and they hatched a plan.
As the coyote careened down Latrans Lane with his truck of ill-gotten goods, he had no idea that up ahead, there were several Mister Migs leashes lying across the road, with a rat on either side holding the ends of each leash.
“Wait for it…wait for it…” Justin the rat told his brother Jenner, “Now!”
The rats lifted the leashes up off the pavement and pulled them taut just as the truck came by, so that the tires had to strain against the strong sturdy denim that was holding them back. But the truck was too big, and had too much momentum, and the leashes snapped, sending Justin and Jenner flying while the coyote continued to speed away.
But this wasn’t the only trick that the friends of Mister Migs had up their tiny sleeves. Up next on the road were dozens of the Mister Migs pins that were used on Migrubbies and other Mister Migs goods, each with the pin pointing straight up. The intent was to puncture the tires, but alas, the coyote drove over them with the truck tires no worse for the wear at all.
It was time to up the ante. Louey, MiMee, and Hazel made a barricade of the dog mannequins used in the Mister Migs studio to model the Migrubbies, but the coyote plowed right through them. Next was an elaborate contraption of Velcro and D-rings from the Mister Migs studio, but that failed as well, as did the barrage of chew toys being hurled in the path of the truck. It seemed that there was simply nothing that any of the pets could do to stop the coyote.
“Lift me up!” Annie the chinchilla demanded imperiously to one of the larger dogs. She was holding a small sack of something, “Quickly now!”
The dog did as he was told, bowing so that Annie could jump on top of his head and then rearing on to his hind legs so that she was as high in the air as possible. Just in time too; the truck sped by them an instant later, and Annie tossed the little sack through its open window with all her might. The instant it landed in the truck, the entire driver’s compartment seemed to expode with what looked like smoke. The coyote, blinded, hit the brakes, and with a SCREEECH careened off the road and into a ditch.
“What was that?” asked the other pets.
“Pumice dust,” Annie looked proud of herself, “Chinchillas don’t bathe in water like other pets, our fur is far too delicate to endure getting wet; instead, we clean ourselves by rolling in dust. But not icky regular dust like you find under beds and in closets; special, exotic, imported pumice dust from finely ground organic rocks that absorbs oils and clears away common dirt. He’ll be a much cleaner coyote when he gets out of there!”
“If he gets out of there,” said Sadie Lynn, sounding a little worried, “Do you think he’s okay?”
Their intent had only been to stop the thief, not to hurt him. However, their worries were lifted when a moment later, the dazed but unharmed coyote stumbled out of the truck, his coat covered in the fine white powder, making him look as if he’d bleached his fur. But it wasn’t enough to disguise him from Hazel and Sam, who recognized him instantly.
“That’s the same coyote that tried to eat us!” yelled Hazel, pointing an accusatory paw. “It is!” seconded Sam, and with that she ran at the coyote. She was safely inside her rat ball, a big green sphere made of transparent plastic, and thus did not need to fear his jaws now. Louey, though he had no such protection, gave chase as well, as did the pugnacious Jenner. The coyote wasn’t afraid of the latter two, but he’d never seen anything like the great big green rat ball, and when he saw it coming after him, he immediately fled.
All the Mister Migs goods were found still safe and undamaged in the back of the truth, and by the end of the day, had made it into The Pet Set at both Briarcliff AND Piedmont!