It was a nice day in New York and there were allies on the border of dog and cat territory. A small German Shepard puppy ran into an alley there was a bit of smoke and she was coughing out a lot.
"Hello! Hey!," she called out.
Her voice was a little deeper and more mature than Patches'. But it carried a bit more scratchiness.
"Are you in here? Because it turns out it is not a good idea to come between a mouse and it's marshmallow toasting," she said lifting a paw half way up.
"Hm. There's a sentence I never though I would say. ...Okay are you asleep can you actually hear me? Wait. This doesn't look like our hangout. Hello? Is anyone there? Sorry about the smoke. I'm sure it'll clear out….uh…...eventually,"
A black cat walked out from behind crates, not being able to see the pupy in all the smoke.
"Who's there? I warn you I have sharp claws and I am not afraid to use them," the cat said with a british girl accent.
The puppy walked closer.
"Whoa! Whoa there! It's just me! See, harmless old me? Brownie. Remember?," she said.
"Oh that sweat puppy,"
"Uh… Ya that. Sorry wrong alley, so sorry about all the smoke, marshmallow roasting gone horribly wrong, sorry gotta go," the puppy said and ran off, uncomfortable.
The cat giggled.
The puppy ran until she felt a net being put over and thrown forcefully in the back of a truck. The Dogcatcher.