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“It’s a type of newspaper that focuses on the more sensational stories,” I said.

“The more sensational the better,” Little Janine explained. “Unfortunately they don’t always distinguish between reality and fiction when they print their stuff.”

Little John was barking up a storm now, jumping up against the hedge that divides our backyard from the next.

“That’s not a tabloid reporter,” said Rufus gruffly. “That’s Ted. My human.”

“Oh?” said Little John, a disappointed look on his little face. Then he rallied, like any good guard dog would. “Is your human Ted a tabloid reporter?”

“He’s an accountant,” I said.

This should have been the final blow to Little John’s theory, but you can’t keep a good dog down. “So maybe he’s a tabloid reporter in his spare time?”

“No, he’s not,” Rufus snapped. “Now stop barking already, will you?”

“Oh, all right,” Little John said, standing down.

“Oh, neighbor!” Ted said, his head now popping over the hedge.

Tex threw down his napkin and came over.“Ted?”

Ted was holding up his headless gnome again.“The thing is, neighbor, that you said Big Papa’s head collapsed from plaster fatigue, remember?”

“I do remember, yes,” Tex confirmed.

Ted tapped his face with a thoughtful finger.“Now I was wondering… if my gnomes are suffering from plaster fatigue, why was only Big Papa affected? Why didn’t the heads of all my other gnomes turn to powder, too?”

“Well now, Ted,” said Tex, bending over the hedge, “I’m afraid I can’t give you an answer on that. You see, what you need is a gnome doctor, and I’m only a regular doctor.”

Ted gave Tex a look of suspicion.“A gnome doctor?”

“You know, like a tree doctor?”

“I’ve heard of a tree doctor, but I’ve never heard of a gnome doctor before.”

“Oh, they’re rare and highly sought after. But I can assure you they exist. One of my gnomes once suffered from a rare fungus. I was afraid it was mildew or wilt so I contacted a gnome doctor and he said it was, in fact, diplodia tip blight and gave me a fungicide and it cleared up within a couple of days.”

Ted moved his head back and forth in wonder.“Cleared it right up, huh?”

“It did indeed, Ted. Worked like a charm.”

“Can you give me the name of this wonder doctor, Tex?”

“I’m afraid he passed away. But if I were you—and I want you to remember I’m not a tree doctor, all right?”

“Of course, of course.”

“I’d get myself one of those powerful fungicides from the garden center and rub that stuff all over your gnomes. Really soak them in the stuff. It’s the only way to make sure they won’t suffer the same fate as the one you’re holding there.”

A sunny smile suddenly creased Ted’s face. “Why, thank you, Tex.”

“Don’t mention it, Ted. One of the perks of having a doctor as a neighbor.”

And as Ted went about his business, and so did Tex, Little John gave me a hopeful look.“Are you sure he’s not secretly a tabloid reporter, Max? Cause he sure looks like one and he definitely smells like one.”

“Will you stop with the tabloid stuff already?” said Little Janine. “Now for the most important question of the day. When and where is breakfast being served!”

It was a very important matter indeed, and so we all traipsed up to Marge, and I said,“Have you by any chance managed to replenish the kibble coffers, Marge?”

Marge smiled at this, and made the universal‘come hither’ sign by crooking her index finger. We followed her into the house, and lo and behold: no less than seven bowls stood awaiting us in the kitchen, all laden to the brim with delicious kibble, one for each pet.

“And there’s plenty more where this came from,” Marge announced as we all happily dug in. And when I lifted an upturned face to thank her, my eyes gleaming and glistening with honest gratitude, she added, “Don’t thank me. Thank Opal. She’s the one who decided to splurge. She felt you all deserved a treat.”

“I love Opal,” said Harriet.

“Now that’s my human for you,” said Prunella proudly.

CHAPTER 29

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Food is important, but since we didn’t want to miss Opal’s interview with Big John, we made sure not to linger so we had a front-row seat for the historic sit-down between the famous talk-show host and the politician and his wife.

By the time we returned to the house, the living room had been modified to Opal’s specifications, and lots of lamps had been placed just so, bathing the place in light. John looked less nervous than Janine, but then of course he probably has plenty of media experience.

Janine had dressed to impress, with a black dress and a gorgeous diamond pendant. Her blond tresses cascaded to her shoulders like a waterfall of gold.

“How do I look?” Janine inquired. “How is my hair? Do I have something between my teeth? Is my lipstick all right? Is it smeared across my teeth?”

“You look fine, my darling,” said Big John. “You look absolutely smashing.” He gave her a comforting pat on the knee, then adjusted his tie, which was a bright yellow number with little red bells. Very stylish. Or at least very noticeable.