The Night of the Fatal Paws

In a deserted lane somewhere out west

The fine-looking, point-perfect Red Setter raised his nose and sniffed the air. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he attempted to identify the scent that tickled his sensitive nostrils. Suddenly his eyes opened wide. Cat! There was a feline in the area and out of the corner of one eye he spied a small ginger fur ball. Immediate action was called for and his canine instincts had him on the move within seconds.

"Woof! Woof! Ruff!"

The cat was soon cornered but not before it had managed to climb a nearby tree. It took time to smooth its ruffled fur before extending a paw toward the excited Doberman.

"It's all right, Jim," it said. "It's me, Artie."

"Artie! Is that really you?"

"Yes of course."

"But..but you look exactly like a cat." He couldn't help growling as he said the word.

"I know, I have taken great pains to disguise myself as a female cat. It's really effective don't you think?"

"But you smell just like a cat!" Jim was still sceptical that this could be his partner in the Canine Secret Service.

"That is the clever part," Artie explained. "I distilled the pheromones of a female cat and sprayed my fur with it. Do you mind if I come down now?"

"Yeah, sure, I think I have myself under control," Jim assured him.

"Good."

Artie carefully inched his way down the trunk of the tree, keeping one eye on his partner, just in case his anti-cat instincts kicked in again. Once he was on the ground he sat and lifted one paw, licked it, and smoothed the fur on his chest.

"You know all the moves," Jim said in awe at his friend's performance. "It's hard to tell that you are a Chihuahua under all that fur."

"I have studied cats closely for a while," Artie said. He approached the Red Setter and weaved in between his legs, his tail trailing sinuously behind him. "Meow! Purrrr!"

"I didn't know you could speak cat," Jim said, surprised.

"I speak several languages," Artie boasted. "As a Chihuahua I speak Mexican of course, then there is dog, cat, guinea pig and skunk. That last one has gotten me out of many a tight corner."

"But why the disguise?" Jim asked.

"Hold on a moment," Artie said, I just have to play with that mouse over there, if I'm to stay in character."

With that, he pounced on the small rodent and began batting it with his paws.

"Hey, cut that out!" the mouse said. "I know you are not a real cat."

Artie stared at the mouse, perplexed. "Is there something wrong with my disguise?" he said, crest-fallen at the thought.

"No," said the mouse, "but I heard you talking to the Red Setter."

"You speak dog?" Artie asked.

"A lot better than you speak cat," the mouse told him. "How else do you think I'm talking to you?"

"Oh," Artie said, making a mental note to learn to speak mouse. He wasn't going to be outdone by a rodent. He scowled at the mouse and went back to the Red Setter's side.

"I think that's enough of that," he said.

"You still haven't told me why you are wearing that disguise," Jim pointed out.

"It is to lure Moggielito Loveless from his hideout," Artie explained. "I'll bet he won't be able to resist my incredible cat body."

Moggielito Loveless was a notorious criminal mastermind and fish thief, causing chaos at sea ports all along the west coast. He was currently lying low after an audacious crime he had carried out in San Francisco. Jeremy Pike had tracked him for a while and had sent in a report on his whereabouts shortly before his demise at Loveless's paws. The two agents bowed their furry heads for a moment at the memory of their late friend and fellow agent. Then it was back to business.

Jim looked Artie over critically. "Well, we could try your plan," he decided. "Nothing else seems to have worked and Colonel Richmond has told us not to come back to Washington without Loveless."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Outside Moggielito Loveless's hideout – a little later

Artie, still disguised as a cat, and having added some more pheromone spray, was sashaying up and down outside Moggielito Loveless's hideout. He was purring seductively.

Loveless was soon drawn to the entrance of his hideout by Artie's display. The hideout looked surprisingly like a dog kennel. This maybe should have warned Artie of what was about to happen but he was too wrapped up in his role of feline seductress.

First the evil feline mastermind circled Artie, showing encouraging interest in the ginger cat. Artie swished his tail in a come-hither motion. Just as it looked as if Loveless was about to succumb to his charms and move far enough from his hideout for Jim to grab him, he let out a mewl and the plans of the canine secret agent were thwarted as, in answer to his cat call, a British Bull Dog appeared at the entrance to the hideout and growled at Artie.

"Yes, I know it is you, Mr Gordon," Moggielito revealed. "It was a good attempt on your part but it was doomed to failure as you once again underestimated me and the size of my network of spies." Here he indicated the little mouse which had appeared between the front paws of the Bull Dog.

"Hello, Mr Fake Cat," the mouse taunted him with a wave.

"Why you…!" Artie spluttered. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

But this was not the time for talking, Artie realised as he noticed the Bull Dog eyeing him angrily and pawing at the ground.

"Kill him, Voltaire!" Loveless commanded and the chase was on. The Chihuahua ran for his life.

"Run Jim!" he shouted as he reached the Red Setter's hiding place.

Jim took stock of the situation and lowered his front legs. "Quick, jump onto my back!" he ordered.

Artie lost no time in obeying the command. He knew his short legs were no match for the Bull Dog's.

Jim ran at full speed for the nearest tree and ran behind it, where he deposited his companion on the ground.

"There is a knock-out gas pellet in the pouch attached to my collar," he said. "Do you think you can open it with your claws?"

"I'll do my best," Artie promised. He clawed at the pouch until the pellet was freed and fell to the ground. Then he picked it up with his paw and lobbed it in the direction of the slavering Bull Dog.

The pellet hit the ground in front of the dog which had difficulty breathing at the best of times and was soon overpowered by the gas and fell unconscious to the ground.

"Boy, that was a close one," Artie said. "I was expecting Loveless to have cats as his minions but not a mouse and a Bull Dog. He's just not natural."

"Sorry Artie. But it was a really good disguise."

"I haven't given up yet," Artie announced. "Let's get back to his hideout before he gets away. Do you have the cat box?"

"It's behind that rock over there."

"Well, bring it with you. If we can't lure him out then we'll just have to go in."

The two agents warily approached Loveless's hideout, keeping their eyes open for possible traps. The evil cat mastermind was still standing at the entrance of his hideout, waiting for Voltaire to return. He expected him to bring back the limp and lifeless body of Artemus Gordon in his teeth. There was a look of surprise on his face as he watched the two canine secret agents come into view.

Jim placed the cat box on the ground in front of the evil mastermind. "Stay where you are, Moggielito Loveless!" he warned, as he opened the box with his paw. "You're coming with us," he added.

Loveless was about to laugh at any such notion when he noticed the contents of the box. There was a rubber mouse, a ball of wool and, best of all, a large, delicious fish. He sniffed the aroma which was irresistible and the temptation of the holy trinity of cat lures reeled him in. He slunk over to the box in a way that only cats can and entered the enclosure. Soon he was too enraptured with his booty to realise that the door had snapped shut behind him.

"Good job, Jim," Artie said.

"I couldn't have done it without you," Jim replied. I needed someone to lure that Bull Dog out of there before I could put my plan into action."

"You what?" Artie exclaimed. "You knew about that big dog and you still let me go ahead with my plan?"

"I knew you wouldn't do it if I'd told you. The odds were stacked against you. But I always had your back, buddy."

Artie bristled for a moment and moved restlessly on his little paws but then he slowly relaxed. "Well, as your plan was successful and I came out of it unscathed, thanks to you, I will forgive you this time," he said. "But don't do it again!"

"Thanks, Artie, you and I make a great team. Now let's get this evil feline to Washington and report to Colonel Richmond."

Artie thought about the Old English Sheep Dog who was their boss in the Treasury Department. He would be very pleased with them.

"I think we can expect lots of dog treats when the Colonel finds out how well we've done," Artie said.

"Yes," Jim agreed, "but I just want to get back to all the beautiful lady dogs that hang around Washington."

"You dog!" Artie said and they both laughed.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

THE END