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And so we walked along that beach, Gran carrying Dooley, and softly singing a little song for my friend. Soon his sniffles subsided, and he was himself again.

And I must say, it was pretty soothing to walk along with the two of them. I’ve never seen the benefit of taking a walk, but there’s definitely something in it, I have to admit.

“What did you do to Wilbur, Gran?” asked Dooley.

“I bit his tongue.”

“But why?”

“Because he wouldn’t bite his own tongue and stop himself from saying all kinds of stupid things, so I did it for him.”

“That was very nice of you, Gran.”

“Well, I’m a nice person, Dooley.”

That, she most certainly was, even though not many people got to see that side of her.

Chapter 20

Brutus had just laid down his head after an interesting night spent at both cat choir and dog choir, when he suddenly remembered he’d totally forgotten about… Pinkie!

So instead of spending a leisurely night at the foot of his humans’ bed, he hopped down again, made his way downstairs, then through the pet flap and into the backyard.

It didn’t take him long to find Pinkie, who was lounging on a large flat stone next to the garden shed. Tex had once had the idea to place a fountain there, but hadn’t had time to bring it about. The flat stone was there, but no fountain, which was just as well, as fountains have a tendency to spew water all over the place, a habit cats are not all that fond of.

“Hey, there, buddy,” said Brutus. “I’m sorry but I completely forgot about you.”

“You’re refreshingly honest, Brutus,” said Pinkie. “Which is something I like about you. So how was cat choir?”

“Oh, so so,” said Brutus. “We discovered that a couple of dogs have launched dog choir, so looks like we’ve got competition.”

“So shall we get going?” asked Pinkie.

“Sure, sure,” said Brutus. “So where is this pond, exactly?”

“You’ll see,” said the little turtle. “Um, so maybe I can hop on your back? It’s going to take us a really long time to get there otherwise.”

“Good idea. Hop on.”

The turtle didn’t so much hop on as crawl on, and took her time to do so. But once she was firmly in position, they took off, with Pinkie directing the black cat’s steps.

Moments later they were on the sidewalk, with Brutus telling Pinkie all about Gran’s upcoming wedding, which would cause Dooley to have to go and live with Wilbur and Kingman, and how they were all going to miss him but how that couldn’t be helped, and how humans were so darn unpredictable. And before he knew it, they had arrived.

They were still on the street, staring up at a storefront, which announced that this was where people could find anything their growing pets needed. In other words, they’d arrived at a pet shop, aptly named ‘Pete’s Pet Paradise.’

“This is it,” said Pinkie, her voice a little hushed.

“This is the pond?” said Brutus. “This is where you escaped from?”

“Yes. The pond is inside, and heavily guarded, so we’re going to have to come up with a plan, Brutus.”

“But… you expect me to break into this place and free your turtle friends? How do you propose I do that? I’m not a teenage mutant ninja turtle, Pinkie.”

“I don’t know what you just said,” said Pinkie. “Look, all you have to do is follow my lead.” And with these words, the tiny turtle made her way down from his back, and proceeded to move in the direction of a protective metal grille that had been placed over a basement recess. Beneath it he could see a window, leading into the store basement.

Brutus stared at Pinkie for a moment, unsure how to proceed, but then the turtle turned and said,“So are you coming or not?”

Brutus watched how Pinkie slipped between the grille then hopped down into the recess, and then through the open window. So he gave the grille a tentative nudge, and discovered it could easily be dislodged. After a moment’s pause, he squeezed through the grille and the wall, gracefully jumped down and proceeded into the darkness.

Brutus had never been much of an adventurer. He liked to watch other adventurers at work, like Bear Grylls or his fictional counterpart Indiana Jones, but personally the black cat preferred to sit on his couch and experience his adventures vicariously while enjoying the comfort of his home, the presence of his friends, and a big bowl of kibble.

None of these were present in the basement he now found himself in. There were no friendly faces anywhere in sight, and an appalling dearth of kibble—at least the cat kind.

What there was were mountains of turtle food: some kind of fish food Brutus had taken one sniff at and had immediately discarded as not fit for feline consumption.

The basement of the pet shop was large, with a low ceiling, and not much light. It was also pretty hot down there, and when he looked around, all he could see were large plastic tanks filled with water and… turtles. Hundreds of them—possibly even thousands. And it soon dawned on him that quite possibly he’d discovered a breeding site for turtles, located underneath this innocuous-looking pet shop.