Katt vs. Dogg: Chapters 18–32

A ferret in a fedora pushed her way forward and jabbed her microphone into the hawkowl’s beak.

“Yes,” said the wise hawkowl. “In fact, this morning, a team of wolfbears came upon an abandoned campsite in the forest. We think that is where Oscar spent the night. There were dogg tracks leading down to the creek. We also found what we think are katt paw prints in the same general vicinity.”

“Take care, sir,” said the katt, as he coolly assumed a karate stance. “You do not wish to anger me. I am quite proficient in the martial arts!”

The ferret swung her microphone back and forth between the growling animals. “What is your relation to the missing katt and dogg, sirs?”
“These, unfortunately, are the missing children’s fathers,” said the hawkowl with intense scorn.

“So? You’re afraid of water.” Duke put on his snooty katt voice again. “Oh, look. A water bowl. I’m sooooo afraid!”

Molly and Oscar’s mothers and siblings leapt into the fray with hisses, howls, and spit. The news crews swung their microphones and cameras back and forth, trying to capture the frantic action.

“Go. Home. Now!” said the hawkowl. “You are of absolutely no help to us. In fact, your open hostility is making our rescue mission more difficult than it need be! Leave. If and when we find your children, we will return them to you so you can continue warping their young minds with ignorant hatred. The same thing you incorrigible creatures have done for centuries!”

“Go. Home. Now!” said the hawkowl. “You are of absolutely no help to us. In fact, your open hostility is making our rescue mission more difficult than it need be! Leave. If and when we find your children, we will return them to you so you can continue warping their young minds with ignorant hatred. The same thing you incorrigible creatures have done for centuries!”

“Go. Home. Now!” said the hawkowl. “You are of absolutely no help to us. In fact, your open hostility is making our rescue mission more difficult than it need be! Leave. If and when we find your children, we will return them to you so you can continue warping their young minds with ignorant hatred. The same thing you incorrigible creatures have done for centuries!”

The katt knelt down on the trail and started scratching the dirt with her pointy claws. She gestured at Oscar’s tattered uniform. “You’re supposed to be a Dogg Scout, right?”
“Yes,” Oscar said proudly.

“Fine. Don’t give yourself heartworms. We’ll go north.”
“Nope. West.”
“West? That’s what I said two minutes ago!”
“But I said it most recently. So, it’s my idea.”
Molly heaved a humongous sigh. “Fine. Whatever. Lead on.”

After silently trudging through the wilderness, seeing nothing but trees and more trees, the two hikers finally came to a hilltop clearing.

“I don’t do that kitten stuff,” said Molly defensively. “Because I am no ordinary katt. I’m studying to be an actress!”

Everybody knows that katts and doggs have been enemies since the beginning of time. Who can forget the Katt and Dogg War of 1812? Will these two foes find each other before the rescuers find them? If so, will the fur fly? Add in: the worried parents, banished from the search; the troubled teenage brother and sister, jealous that their siblings are the center of attention; the befuddled park rangers; the frustrated rescuers.

Everybody knows that katts and doggs have been enemies since the beginning of time. Who can forget the Katt and Dogg War of 1812? Will these two foes find each other before the rescuers find them? If so, will the fur fly? Add in: the worried parents, banished from the search; the troubled teenage brother and sister, jealous that their siblings are the center of attention; the befuddled park rangers; the frustrated rescuers.

“Oscar?” Molly was sounding a little hissy. “You’re not being very helpful.”
“Sorry,” said Oscar. “But climbing down is actually simple. Since your claws don’t point the right way for a forward descent, all you have to do is back down the tree. At least that’s what it said in the Dogg Scout Manual.”

Oscar watched as Molly attempted to make her way, backward, down the tree.
Molly scuttled down ten feet, then stopped for a hiss break.
“Come on, katt!” urged Oscar. “You can do it!”

“That was awesome!” shouted Oscar, who found the frazzled look on Molly’s frightened face to be funnier than anything he’d ever seen.

“And, for your information,” hissed the katt, “there are many more who have suffered broken legs and worse falling out of a window or off a ladder!”
Oscar was dumbfounded. “Really?”
“Really!”

Molly was miffed.
Just because a few katts can sometimes fall successfully from high places doesn’t mean any of them like doing it.

“Are you okay?” the dogg asked, sheepishly.
Molly didn’t answer. She wasn’t hurt. But her pride sure was.

“Decisions, decisions,” purred the wild mountain lion. “Which one to eat first? My cousin, the mangy katt? Or the delectable and delicious dogg?”

“Mr. Mountain Lion...isn’t it t-too late for b-b-breakfast?” stammered Oscar, as he gave the predator his best puppy eyes.

“Mr. Mountain Lion...isn’t it t-too late for b-b-breakfast?” stammered Oscar, as he gave the predator his best puppy eyes.

“Are you still talking to me?” The bear tossed its beehive aside. It stood up on its hind legs and, towering over the mountain lion, licked the honey dribbling off its claws.
“Um, very nice meeting you, bear,” said the mountain lion. “Must skedaddle.”
He took off running.

“How do you feel about your daughter being lost in the woods with her sworn enemy, a dogg?”
“How do you think I feel? Horrible. Ghastly. Sickened. Oh, the horror! Lost in the forest while a fiendish mutt is on the prowl. It’s unimaginably horrific!”

While they argued they came to a road lined with cornstalks. As they squabbled, their voices grew louder and louder. Before long, they were barking and caterwauling at each other.
Big mistake.

“Get off my land!” shouted a cranky voice in the darkness. “This is my farm, you varmints!”

“It’s my road!” answered the voice. “And this here...”
Molly heard something go click.
“This is my shotgun. I ain’t afraid to use it, neither! Now vamoose!”

Oscar could smell the odors of something foul wafting on the breeze.

Molly clambered up on Oscar’s back.
Oscar waded into the rippling stream.

Molly clambered up on Oscar’s back.
Oscar waded into the rippling stream.

Finally, with Oscar fighting the fatigue in his leg muscles, they made it to the far shore.

Oscar scampered off to the nearest tree. He was nosing around, looking for the perfect pieces of wood for his campfire when he smelled something absolutely disgusting. Like poop mixed with wet fur mixed with rancid oil.

“What’s wrong?” asked Molly.
“I’m not sure,” said Oscar. “But I’ve never smelled anything so foul, disgusting, revolting, or gross.”