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Moments later a big sheepdog appeared on the scene, and gave Little Randy a good-natured nod.“Hi, there, buddy. Ready for dog choir?”

“Um…” said Little Randy, then smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

And so the unlikely trio set off along the strip of lawn that lined Odelia’s house, and moments later they were out in the street, and on their way to the park.

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Tex entered the room where his patient was holed up with a slight sense of trepidation. He was of course used to treating people who were sick or even dying, but rarely it happened to him that he treated a person as famous as Randy Hancock.

“Come in!” said Randy. The first thing Tex thought when he caught sight of the fitness guru was that he didn’t look very sick—or dying, for that matter. In fact he looked like a real live wire.

“Well, there he is!” said Randy. “The man of the hour. Are you ready to do this, Tex—can I call you Tex?—I’m not sure what you need from me. Do you want me to lie down? Sit up? Stick out my tongue? Drop my pants and bend over? Though if it’s blood you need I’ll tell you right now I’m squeamish, Tex. Extremely squeamish. I just hate needles!”

“Oh, Randy,” said Marge with a schoolgirl giggle.

Much to Tex’s surprise, his wife of twenty-five years had taken off her sweater and was sitting on the bed next to Randy, looking flustered and grinning like a teenager at her first dorm party.

“Okay, big boy,” said Randy as he held out his arm. “Just stick it in before I change my mind.” He squeezed his eyes closed. “But don’t expect me to watch! I’ll start to scream!”

“Randy, you’re such a hoot!” Marge giggled.

“It’s the entertainer in me, Marge,” said Randy. “I may be dying but I’ll make you laugh until the day I die!”

“Um, I’m not going to draw blood now,” said Tex.

“Well, that’s a relief!”

“I mean, I could, if you wanted to, but I’d have to get my stuff.”

“He didn’t bring his stuff!” said Randy.

“Oh, Tex,” said Marge. “I told you to bring your doctor’s bag.”

Tex frowned. He had a feeling something was going on. He didn’t know what, exactly, but he was pretty sure he didn’t like it. “If you want me to give you a complete physical I suggest you come to my office tomorrow,” he said, a little stiffly. “I have all of my equipment there, and I can even arrange for your blood work to be examined at the lab—normally I would suggest you go to the hospital, but I promise you I’ll do my best to—”

“I can’t leave the house, Tex. People might recognize me, and I know this will sound a little weird but my enemies can’t know I’m staying here. So….” Then his face lit up. “What I could do is wear a disguise. Do you have a wig, Marge? Any old wig will do.”

“Oh, absolutely. I’m sure we’ve got something lying around.” She giggled again. “You really want to walk the streets wearing a wig, Randy? You will look funny.”

“Haven’t you figured it out by now, Marge? Funny is my middle name!”

Tex cleared his throat.“So are you coming in tomorrow or…”

“You betcha, Doc!” said Randy, clapping him on the shoulder like an old friend. “I’ll come and see you first thing tomorrow. And I want to thank you for doing this. You don’t know how much it means to me to be welcomed into your family like such an honored guest. No, not like a guest—like a member of the family.” He gave the doc a warm smile.

“That’s all right,” said Tex. “So… see you tomorrow then?”

“See you tomorrow, Tex.”

And as Tex walked out, he waited by the door for his wife to follow him. When she didn’t move from the bed but stayed right where she was, he felt a little shocked.

Strange things were happening. And as he descended the stairs, he could have sworn he heard Marge giggle again. Giggle like a naughty girl up to doing naughty things!

Chapter 17

We were on our way back from cat choir when we unwittingly witnessed a strange scene: very near to our rehearsal space—the playground at the park—a couple of dogs were howling at the moon. Usually it’s wolves that engage in this sort of behavior but it was definitely dogs this time, since as far as I know we don’t have any wolves in Hampton Cove.

And as we quickly walked past, putting some pep in our step to leave this disturbing scene in our rearview mirror, suddenly Dooley said,“Isn’t that Fifi?”

We now all glanced over, something we’d neglected to do before, and much to my surprise I saw that one of the dogs was, indeed, our neighbor Fifi. The Yorkshire Terrier was howling up a storm, and creating quite the ruckus I must say.

“Hey, that’s Rufus!” said Harriet.

“And Little Randy,” said Brutus, sounding as surprised as I was feeling.

We now stared at the scene, and I felt as if I was in the upside-down version of my usual world.

“I don’t get it,” I finally said. “What do they think they’re doing?”

“Sounds like they’re howling at the moon,” said Dooley.

“I know what it sounds like, Dooley,” I said, “but what I want to know is why they’re behaving in this ludicrous way.”

“Why ludicrous?” asked Harriet.

“Because they’re not wolves!”