BAD HAIR DAY
THE PHONE RANG THREE TIMES BEFORE ANNA PICKED IT UP.
"Good morning. Littlest Pet Shop. We don't sell pets, we cater to them. How may I help you today?"
A harsh cough was the reply she got. "Hello, Mrs. Twombly," the voice on the other end said. She recognized it as Raoul, the shop's regular pet groomer. He sounded terrible, his voice hoarse and cracking, and he sounded like he was stuffed up as well. "Just calling to say that I won't be coming in today. I've caught that nasty bug that's going around."
"Oh, well, if you're sick you're sick," Anna said as Blythe walked past, having just come in to start her day. It was the girl's third Saturday working at Littlest Pet Shop, and Anna could tell that she was enjoying every second of it. "Get some rest and here's hoping for a speedy recovery."
Raoul coughed again. "Thanks, Anna."
Anna hung up and placed the phone back on its rack.
"What's wrong with Raoul, Mrs. Twombly?" Blythe asked.
"Oh, I'm in such a mess here, Blythe," Anna said. "That nasty bug that's been going around just had to pick today of all days to hit Raoul."
"The regular groomer?"
"Yes, and today's the last day anyone wants to get hit with that nasty flu."
"Why? Busy day?"
"No, just one client. A very important client, at that. I have no idea what to do, Blythe."
Blythe thought for a few seconds. She'd shadowed Raoul whenever she had the chance, watched how he groomed the pets, be they regular – like the seven in the day camp, or a pet stopping by just for the day – so she knew how he operated, knew how he did things. She learned that each pet is different, has different needs, that not any two dogs or cats or ferrets or birds are alike. Each one was just like a person, with a different personality and a specific way they liked to be groomed.
Though that usually fell at the behest of the pets' owners.
"I could fill in for Raoul," Blythe offered.
"You sure about that, Blythe?"
"Sure I'm sure. I've watched Raoul. He's given me pointers. And besides, I've got a lot of experience making things look absolutely beautiful. I'll admit, I've never groomed an animal before, but I used to give fabulous makeovers to my dolls, and I have to say, they looked pretty dang awesome. If I do say so myself." She thought back to when she was younger, cutting her dolls' hair, making them look positively gorgeous, showing them off to everyone. She still didn't understand why they all laughed or stared at her with shock; the makeovers she'd given to the dolls were the best she had ever seen. "You can count on me, Mrs. Twombly."
"Well….Sure, why not. Take a chance, am I right?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Twombly. You will not regret it. So, who's the one client for the day?"
"Zoe."
"YEEEEEEEEEEES! YES YES YES YES YESYESYESYESYEEEEEEEES!" It was a dream come true, being Zoe's groomer. Zoe was already a beautiful dog, and Blythe would do her best to make Zoe the most gorgeous Cavalier King Charles Spaniel this side of the Atlantic Ocean.
She would need a picture to compare from Roger, of course – he was on another flight to Britain today, and had some time to go touring around before he had to come back to the states, so there was a chance he'd get a photograph.
Blythe's squeals of delight hurt Anna's ears; she had to cover them with her hands. "You're really enthusiastic about this, aren't you?"
"Are you kidding? I get to groom Zoe! That's so cool!"
"Just make sure that you do as good a job on Zoe as you do on those dolls of yours, dear," Anna said.
"Sure thing, Mrs. Twombly," Blythe squealed as she ran to the day camp.
No sooner did Blythe leave did someone walk through the door, someone Anna recognized. Marcus Payne, Downtown City's own art critic.
"Good morning, Mr. Payne," Anna greeted. "How's everything in the art business?"
"Dismal, as per the norm," Marcus replied. He picked up a squeaky ball from the nearby shelf and gave it a good squeeze. "Do you have any idea how difficult life as an art critic can be? No offense, but most people these days don't know what good art is; most of the stuff I see that people flaunt around as 'art' is just garbage. I've seen finger painting monkeys do better than most of these hacks."
Anna couldn't help but giggle; Marcus's remark made her think of Minka and her habit of finger painting everything in sight. She was such a silly monkey.
"Anyway," Marcus continued as he rummaged through the shelves. "I stopped by to pick up something for Genghis." Genghis was the little white Shih Tzu Marcus was carrying in his arm. "We just came from the city museum, and he saw a dreadful display there that nearly sent the poor pup into a fit." He looked at the day camp window, spotted the paint splatter all over the glass. "My word!"
"Oh, I see you've spotted the work of our resident artist, Minka." She spotted Minka watching them through the glass; gave the monkey a little wave. "I'm sure it looks a little messy."
"Messy?" Marcus repeated in disbelief. "Woman, have you gone mad? This Minka you're talking about is a true artistic genius! She could be famous! A superstar entitled to all sorts of cash and prizes in art contests and museum exhibits! So inspirational! Why, I do believe that I have regained the skills needed to once again criticize the art world!" He started walking towards the door. "Life is good sometimes, isn't it, Genghis?"
Yes, well, isn't that nice? Anna thought as she made her way back to the front counter. Minka, a superstar artist.
#################################
The seven pets had heard what that man had said to Mrs. Twombly. The idea of Minka being a superstar artist….It sounded absurd. And yet there Minka was, stars in her eyes. She imagined her works being displayed in an art gallery, other pets asking her the secrets of her artistic genius. Of course, she would never tell – secrets were supposed to be kept secret, after all.
Vinnie, Russell, and Sunil walked over to a piece Minka had just finished up this morning, something she had named "Spider Monkey Freakout".
"I can see it, I can totally see it," Vinnie said. "There's the monkey's head, and there's the butt – no, wait, maybe it's the other way around?"
"Well, not going to lie, it's a little better than the one she did yesterday with all that spent hair Zoe and Sunil shed," Russell said. "You know, that thing she called 'The Back of Blythe's Head'?" He turned to Minka, who was standing nearby. "No offense, Minka."
"Don't worry," Minka said. "It wasn't my greatest work."
Little did that man who was in here a moment ago know that Minka painted by just flinging paint everywhere, or sometimes just dabbing paint on her paws and smacking her paws against the canvas.
Which she was currently demonstrating, splattering paint everywhere – on the floor, on the walls, on the ceiling, on Blythe.
"Oops. Sorry, Blythe. Didn't see you there."
"Of course you didn't," Blythe snarked as she wiped the paint off of her face with a towel. She dropped the towel in the dirty towel bin and turned to Zoe, who was laying nearby, chewing on a dry bone. "So, Zoe, ready to be groomed by a pro?"
"So Raoul finally got here?" Zoe asked.
"Nope. You've got a substitute groomer today – yours truly."
"You?" Zoe asked in disbelief. "But – but what happened to Raoul?"
"He caught that nasty bug that's been going around," Blythe explained. "So Mrs. Twombly asked me to fill in."
"Please tell me you've got at least a LITTLE bit of experience as a groomer," Zoe pleaded.
Blythe picked the little dog up off the floor. "Mostly my dolls from when I was little," Blythe replied. She carried Zoe to the grooming area. "Never done a dog before, so this will be interesting. Anyway, are you ready for a brand spanking new Zoe Trent? Because that's what you're going to get!"
Zoe just looked at the girl, her puppy dog eyes filled with worry.
#######################################
Minka had taken a break from painting to swing from the tire tied to the tree in the middle of the room. She saw Russell approaching, figuring he was probably waiting his turn. She barely heard him calling out her name, until he stopped the tire, grabbing it with his little hedgehog paws.
"Hey Minka, can we talk?" Russell asked.
"Of course we can," Minka answered. "I mean, if we couldn't talk, you couldn't have asked me that question, and I wouldn't be giving you this answer, and Sunil and Vinnie wouldn't be laughing at Pepper's joke, and we couldn't have heard Blythe telling Zoe that Raoul was out for the day so Blythe was going to be the groomer, and –"
"A simple yes or no would have sufficed, Minka. Let's get to business. Now that you're going to be a big superstar artist, I just wanted to offer you my help to guide you through this crazy world. You know, like your agent or something."
"You'd do that?" Minka asked.
"I'm a helping hedgehog, it's what I do."
"Usual, then? Ten percent of what I get? I get ten bananas, you get one?"
"My dear monkey friend, we have ourselves a deal. Paw shake."
"Hey, wait a minute," Vinnie called out. Neither of them had seen him sticking to the wall, or seen the other pets gathering around them. "We can all pitch in, help Minka be number one."
"Wait a minute, Vinnie," Russell started.
"Yes, even I shall lend my assistance," Sunil put in.
"I don't know about this," Russell said. He was starting to get worried.
Pepper spoke up. "Relax, Rus. It's all about positioning the brand, am I right? You know I'm right." She leaned in close. "Using the meaning behind Minka's art to sell her to the public!"
Minka sank into the tire. She didn't like where this was going. She didn't mind the praise, but it sounded like everyone except for Russell – who so far was the only one who genuinely seemed to want to help Minka become even a little bit successful as a monkey artist – was in it for more selfish reasons. They'd all heard what that man had said about Minka, and now they wanted to be a part of it. She wouldn't have minded, if they weren't trying to force their way in. She only agreed to Russell because he had OFFERED his assistance instead of trying to shove it down Minka's throat like a rotten banana she didn't want to eat.
Penny Ling caught her attention as she walked up to the window. Oh, good, Minka thought. A panda who doesn't put herself first.
"What's the meaning behind this painting, Minka?" Penny Ling asked.
"Well, it –" Minka began, but Pepper interrupted.
"Well, clearly, it represents the struggle of the masses," she said. "Upper class versus lower class."
"It's obviously the sadness of flowers," Sunil guessed.
"I know!" Vinnie cried. "Actually, wait, no I don't."
"Personally," Russell said, "I think it has different meaning on different levels, and it's all depending on who looks at it and how they look at it. It's far too complex for us non-artists to understand."
Minka climbed higher into the tree, away from the other pets as they began to argue. She lay on her belly on one of the larger branches, looking down on her fellow Day Campers as they discussed the meaning of her art amongst themselves.
I'll tell you what it means, she thought sadly. I was just having fun throwing paint at the window. Can't you all see that?
It was clear to her that they could not.
It was clear to her that they were all being selfish and wanted some of the success that that man had said she'd get.
It was clear to her that her friends did not have her best interests in mind.
############################################
Blythe worked the scissors, trimming Zoe's fur down as short as she'd seen Raoul trim it. Zoe was much more comfortable now than she had been earlier, especially when Blythe started telling her about her days at her old school, as well as how things were going at her new school. Blythe briefly mentioned her late mother, how her father was away more often than either of them would have liked, and brought up general gossip from around town.
Zoe stopped paying attention when Blythe started talking about what one girl said to another girl, who told that thing to another girl, who told that thing to this boy the first girl liked. Zoe was all for romance and love triangles and all that, but honestly, when it came to human teenagers, it could be downright silly at times. It made those soap operas John and Clarissa, Zoe's owners, watched seem believable.
"I don't know how the stylist I go to can talk and cut my hair at the same time," Blythe said, the first thing Zoe actually heard.
"You're doing it right now," Zoe said. "And I think you're doing just fine, darling."
"Thanks, Zoe," Blythe said. "Okay, I think we're all done…." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the horror sitting on the table in front of her.
Blythe had cut Zoe's fur too short in some places, leaving nothing but the dark dog skin. There was a bald patch on her head, the fur around her ears was unkempt, her tail was trimmed down until the only fur left was on the very tip, her entire back end was completely bald save for a few stray hairs here and there.
Zoe was no longer the beautiful dog she was before. Now she looked like something had assaulted her, dragged her through a field.
And Blythe now remembered why all those people laughed at her dolls, or stared in horror at them. She never made them beautiful and gorgeous, she made them hideous and disgusting! What she had told Mrs. Twombly – it was all wrong, all a lie! Blythe had remembered things wrong, blocked out the ridicule and convinced herself that she was an excellent groomer, and now she had gone and ruined Zoe! Mrs. Twombly would never forgive her; Mr. and Mrs. Trent would be furious; she would be a laughingstock, and through her actions, ruin Raoul's reputation! He would be out of work, she would be out of work, Zoe would never be the respectable dog she was ever again!
"This isn't good," Blythe whispered as she turned away from Zoe. "This is not good at all!"
"Did you say something, Blythe?" Zoe asked.
Oh boy! Did Zoe hear me? Dogs have great hearing; she heard me, didn't she? She turned back to Zoe. "I said….I said this looks good!" she lied. She grabbed a broom and began to clean up the mess she made, not wanting to tell Zoe about how dreadful she looked.
"This is simply fabulous," Zoe said. "When John and Clarissa come to pick me up this afternoon, we're going straight to the Manchester Kennel Club Dog Show."
Blythe felt her blood run cold. No wonder Mrs. Twombly was so upset that Raoul had called off; Zoe was going to a dog show this afternoon!
"You mean – this afternoon, this afternoon?" Blythe asked.
"That's right," Zoe responded. "It's one of the most famous dog shows in the whole country! And with you grooming skills, I'm sure to win Most Beautiful Dog and Best In Show. Don't you think?" Blythe could only nod her head in reply and let out a tiny squeak. "So, where's that mirror? I'd like to see your handiwork, if it's not too much to ask."
OH NO! Quick, Blythe, think of something!
"Um….We're all out of mirrors," she fibbed.
"No you're not," Zoe said as she hopped off the table. She made her way over to a nearby cart. "There's one over here, isn't there?"
"NO!" Blythe dove for the cart, dragging Zoe along with her, slamming them all against the nearby wall. There was no way she was going to let Zoe see the mess that she had become, not until she found a way to fix it.
####################################
Everything had calmed down in Day Camp, thankfully, allowing Minka and Russell time to talk together in private. They were sitting on Minka's favorite bed, just beneath the birdhouses hanging from the hamster tubes lining the ceiling. The other pets had gone off to quietly talk by themselves, though Minka had an idea of what they were discussing.
Her future as an artist.
"So, Minka," Russell said. "As your agent, I'll do everything in my power to slowly and carefully grow your career. Think of your career as a tiny flower bud that will eventually blossom." He brushed Minka away; she was picking fleas out of his fur. "Will you cut that out? This is important stuff we're talking about, Minka. You can pick my fleas later, if I have any."
"I counted five. Named them Chico, Groucho, Harpo, Zeppo, and Gummo."
"You named my fleas after the Marx Brothers?" He shook his head. "Never mind. Listen, Minka, what I would like to see is you becoming a world-famous artist whose works are in near constant demand."
"I'm not sure I want to be world famous," Minka said. She started bouncing around, her energy seeming to come back after her slump earlier. "I just want to paint, paint, paintpaintpaintpaintPAINT!"
"I understand," Russell said. "But I have a plan that will make you so successful, you could paint, paint, paintpaintpaintpaintPAINT any time you want."
"MEETING!" Vinnie and the other pets stormed past them, bring them along, dragging them into the middle of the room, sitting in a circle with Minka at the center.
"Hey! I was not informed of any meeting!" Russell protested.
Pepper cleared her throat; clearly, this was going to happen with or without Russell's consent.
"Welcome, fellow pets, to the launch of our new product, Minka Inc."
"I still say we should have called it Minka Inka," Penny Ling said.
"Penny Ling, we've been through this already," Pepper grumbled. "That name makes about as much sense as…well, anything that doesn't make a whole lot of sense."
"Yeah, but it's a cuter name. And it rhymes!"
"Who cares about cuteness or rhyming? I have no idea what that name means, therefore, it makes no sense!"
Minka lowered herself to the floor as much as she could. It had barely been an hour – or was it ten hours? Minka had no sense of time – and already they were acting like this again. It really upset her, but so far, once again, Russell had seemed to be the only one concerned. At least he had protested this "meeting", which not even he or Minka had been informed of.
"Pets, please," Sunil said. He patted Minka on the back, perking her up a little bit. "Don't forget about our client."
"Excuse me, but since when did she become our collective client?" Russell asked. "I'm her agent! You should go through me with any future meeting requests. You should have consulted me before this. And for crying out loud, where's the fruit tray? We need grapes."
"Let's get back on topic," Pepper said. She brought out a toy computer. "Our angle of attack for…." She glared at Penny Ling. "MINKA INC., is to create a website. Sell her art online. Like that site about that rain forest, whatever it's called. Post the dates of multiple art gallery gatherings – make sure the top critics will be there, that's important – and who knows, one day we'll build and launch the S.S. Minka luxury cruise ship!"
"Okay, those are all pretty neat ideas," Russell said. He saw Minka from the corner of his eye, saw her picking fleas off of her own head. "But WHAT does that have to do with her art?"
"Not a thing," Pepper blatantly admitted.
Vinnie leaped up. "It has everything to do with us becoming rich and famous! That's what!"
"Amen, my good gecko," Pepper said. "What do you think, Minka?"
Minka absentmindedly flicked the flea behind her. "Um….Yeah, I missed everything past the "Welcome everyone' part. Can you repeat that?"
The circle dispersed. Sunil set up an art stand, complete with a canvas, several cans of paint of various colors, and a set of brushes of various sizes.
"We're going to need a lot more of your painting for this to work," he said.
Russell glared at him. "What is this WE stuff? I didn't see any of you step up to be her agent before me. At least I've got Minka's best interests in mind."
Vinnie spoke up, ignoring the hedgehog. "So you're going to have to busy making all that pretty paint stuff."
"That's right," Penny Ling agreed. "Focus on being the genius we all know you are, Minka."
Minka turned from the art stand to glare at them. She slowly dipped a brush into the purple paint, turned to the canvas –
And froze.
"Okay," Pepper said. "Someone know what she's up to?"
"Um….Focusing on being a genius like Penny Ling asked?" Russell guessed.
They all just watched Minka, who was still frozen in place, her paint brush lazily spinning about in her hand, just inches away from the canvas.
#####################################
Zoe still couldn't understand why Blythe was so adamant about not showing Zoe the fruits of her labor. She was certain that Blythe had done a fantastic job, just as she'd said she would. So why wasn't she letting Zoe see how beautiful she looked? She had to look just as good, if not better, than she did when she went up against Madam Pom, didn't she?
She was starting to get impatient.
"Blythe, I insist that you show me the results of your hard work," she said. "Mirror. Show. Now." She spotted one on the sink behind Blythe, a small handheld mirror. That would do nicely.
Before Blythe could react – for whatever reason, she had gone completely catatonic – Zoe hopped off of the table, walked over to the sink, leaped up onto a cart and put herself in front of the mirror.
That….That THING looking back at her – that wasn't the Zoe she was this morning. She had been near immaculate, and now, now…..Now she was a hideous beast, no longer the purebred she knew she was, but rather, an ugly, revolting mutt. She whimpered as she studied herself, unable to remove her eyes from the image looking back at her.
"Oh Zoe," Blythe said quietly. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. I was so excited to be your groomer for the day that I let it all go to my head and didn't watch what I was doing. I don't want anyone to see you like this. I promise, I'll figure something out. I'll find some way to fix this mess and make you beautiful again."
"Beautiful?" Zoe repeated as she turned away from the mirror. "I'm ruined, Blythe. RUINED!" she howled.
"I thought I heard a yelp back there," Mrs. Twombly called from the other room. "Is everything okay in there, Blythe?"
Blythe quickly put Zoe down on a nearby pillow, covering her up with a soft blanket and placing some cucumbers over her eyes, just as Mrs. Twombly came through the curtain separating the grooming area from the main shop floor.
"Everything's fine, Mrs. Twombly," Blythe said nervously. She was terrible at telling lies; not letting her friends and father know about her secret ability to talk to animals was one of the easiest to tell, but she had been lying about that for nearly three weeks now. "I was just giving Zoe my special pet spa treatment. Soothes and beautifies all at the same time."
For a moment, she wondered if Mrs. Twombly was going to believe her. She felt her heart leap into her throat, her stomach tighten into a knot as the older woman looked Zoe over.
"That sounds wonderful," she said after a moment. Blythe quietly let out the breath she'd been holding. "Maybe you could give me your special spa treatment some time later."
"Maybe I could," Blythe said. "We'll see." Mrs. Twombly nodded and smiled, then walked back to the main shop floor.
Blythe slumped to the floor, relieved that Mrs. Twombly hadn't discovered Zoe's poor state.
Zoe shook her head, flinging the cucumbers off of her eyes. "I just had the craziest dream, Blythe. Raoul caught the bug that's been hitting everyone, and you were my substitute groomer. It wasn't pretty."
Blythe swallowed and held the mirror up for Zoe to see. "Oh. It wasn't a dream."
"No, Zoe, no it wasn't."
"It's not a dream," Zoe whispered. Then, she suddenly shouted: "IT'S A NIGHTMARE!"
"Zoe, I told you, I'll fix this," Blythe said. "I promise."
"Or, you could just admit how badly you screwed up to Mrs. Twombly," Zoe suggested dryly. "It'll probably go a lot more smoothly."
"I don't want to disappoint Mrs. Twombly or your owners," Blythe said. "Besides, I can't stand the thought of leaving you like this. This was my mistake, and I'm going to fix it."
"Now that I would love to see," Zoe remarked sarcastically.
##################################
It had been…however long it had been since Minka froze up like that, standing in front of the canvas, that blank stare still on her face, her entire body stiff as a board, the brush just inches from the canvas.
"What's wrong with Minka?" Penny Ling asked, her voice filled with worry.
"It's like she's completely shut down," Sunil observed. "Like the cowardly cobra, when confronted with my fearsome awesomeness."
"There's gotta be some way to get this monkey painting again," Vinnie said. He started walking over to Minka. "Hey, Minka! Right now, you're the only thing standing in my way of being famous, having a fortune, so would you PLEASE start painting? A stick figure would be a good start. Maybe a fly." Nothing; Minka was still just standing there, frozen like a statue. "Minka!" Vinnie yelled. "We can't sell air paintings! Even I'm not stupid enough just to buy a blank canvas! Paint something, for crying out loud!"
"Let me try," Pepper said; she'd procured a bowl of wax fruit from her box of comedy props. She held the bowl on her tail as she made her way over to Minka. "Minka!" she called out, talking like a television spokesperson. "All this delicious fruit could be yours, for the low low price of just one artistic masterpiece!" No response from the monkey.
Russell joined them. "Hey, at least you're taking my advice about the fruit tray. Too bad Penny Ling ate it all."
Penny Ling was sitting against the wall, popping fruit into her mouth. She gagged as she chewed on the apple.
"Yeah, it's wax fruit, Penny Ling," Pepper said. "You think I'm going to keep real fruit in the box? It'll spoil like a sour egg on a hot summer morning."
"BLECH!" Penny Ling hurried over to the water bottle and started drinking, trying to wash the taste out of her mouth.
That panda sure can put it away, though, Pepper thought. Where's it all go? That big head of hers?
The door to the day camp opened. Blythe ran past them, sprinting as fast as she could to the nearby closet.
"Blythe!" Pepper called after her. "We need your advice on something!"
"Not now!" Blythe cried as she ran back to the door, carrying all sorts of supplies with her – glue, needle and thread, and a bucket. "Grooming emergency! Angry dog! Need to fix! Talk later, fix dog now!" She bolted out the door and back into the shop.
"And we've got a painting emergency," Sunil said. He turned to Russell. "You're her agent. Isn't there something you can do?"
"I don't know," Russell said as he watched Minka. "We could tell everyone she's a pantomime painter."
##################################
Blythe dropped the supplies she pulled out of the closet in the day camp on a table. "There. I've got three hours before Mr. and Mrs. Trent show up. Plenty of time to fix my mistake before anyone figures out that I messed up." She picked up an electric brush. "All it's going to take is a little high energy problem solving. Hold still, Zoe." She ran the brush over Zoe's body.
The good news was that all her bald spots were now covered up.
The bad news was that what fur she had left was incredibly puffy.
"Yeah, that's not going to work." She used a dust pan to gather up all of Zoe's cut fur, before picking up a needle and thread from the table. She began to stitch together a dog sweater, stitching as fast as she could, and within less than a minute, had a sweater just Zoe's size. She slipped the sweater over Zoe's head. "Not too bad, right?"
"It would be fine," Zoe said. "If it covered up more than just my torso, and if it didn't itch." She started scratching, causing the sweater to fall apart.
"Okay, Plan C," Blythe said. She started rummaging through the pile of stuff she'd brought from the closet. "Let's see here….Super glue! That'll do the trick!" She set Zoe's cut hair out as best as she could, before squirting glue over it and rolling Zoe over the fur like the dog were a rolling pin.
Zoe looked even worse than she did a moment ago, but Blythe figured that once she dried the glue, everything would be fine.
The blow drier just blew the fur – glue and all – off of Zoe's body.
Fine, then, Blythe thought. Time to MacGuyver this. She grabbed a nearby lamp, ran out onto the main floor to grab some duct tape, taped the lamp to the bucket, attached the motor from the blow drier, and after procuring a blow torch and a welding mask from seemingly nowhere, began to weld it all together.
"What in the world is that?" Zoe wondered.
"You'll see," Blythe said as she ran the flames over the strange contraption she was cobbling together. She attached some wheels, a control panel, and plugged it into the wall.
Blythe rolled the machine over Zoe and turned it on.
Zoe's bald patches disappeared in an instant, and she had even donned her favorite black beret again.
Blythe held the mirror up to Zoe, letting her get a good look at herself, her real self, thanks to the hologram machine Blythe had somehow managed to build in less than thirty seconds.
"This just might work," Zoe said. "If I stay in one spot. Unfortunately, in dog shows, you move around a lot."
Blythe was running out of ideas. She was about to slam her head against the wall when Mrs. Twombly's voice came over the speaker system.
"Blythe, Space Cadet Twombly calling. Just thought I should let you know that John and Clarissa will be here in about ten minutes to pick up Zoe."
"WHAT THE WHAT? No! I still haven't fixed my mistake!"
"And you've got much less time than you anticipated."
"Thank you for reminding me, Zoe," Blythe snapped. She walked over to the wall and started banging her head against it.
She stopped when her forehead started to hurt. "I've got no other choice," she said. "I'm going to have to come clean."
"Which is what I suggested earlier."
"I know," Blythe said. "It's time I faced the music for my crimes against good grooming."
"And me!" Zoe cried. "I'm the real victim here, Blythe!"
Blythe wanted to say something – anything – but the only thing she could think of was another apology, and so far, that hadn't fixed anything. Zoe was still a mess, Blythe had still royally screwed up. Mrs. Twombly would never trust her again. Mr. and Mrs. Trent would never forgive her.
What to do, what to do?
#######################################
They tried everything they could to get Minka to move from that one spot. They enticed her with kibble. Vinnie tried smacking her with his tongue. Sunil, Pepper, and Penny Ling started throwing pet toys at her head.
Minka still hadn't budged. She was still frozen, still in that catatonic state.
Penny Ling walked over to Minka and lightly tapped the monkey on the shoulder. "Minka? Are you in there?" No response. Penny Ling turned back to the other pets. "You guys, I think we may have had something to do with this. I'm getting the feeling that this is kind of our fault."
"That's ridiculous," Vinnie said with a dismissive wave of his pads. "We're trying to help her, not…not-help her."
"That's right," Sunil agreed. "We only have her best interests in mind."
Pepper pushed her way between the two male pets. "Well, something tells me that Minka's best interests and our best interests aren't exactly going paw in paw. Penny Ling might be right. We've put so much pressure on her. We're the ones who wanted to be rich and famous and exploit her skills. Minka never wanted to be recognized."
"It's not our fault, Penny Ling," Russell spoke up. "It's my fault. I have to be the worst agent in the history of bad agents."
The other pets were about to say something when they heard the door to the pet shop open. They recognized the people coming into the store as John and Clarissa, Zoe's owners.
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"Hello, John and Clarissa," Anna greeted them as they came through the door. "You're here for Zoe, aren't you?"
"We sure are, Mrs. Twombly," Clarissa said.
"Well, where is she?" John asked. "Where's our sweet little Zo-Zo?"
Blythe did what she could to stifle the scream building up in her throat. She adjusted her blouse, turned to Zoe, took a deep breath, and prepared herself for what was coming to her.
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Russell waved a paw in front of Minka's face. There was still no reaction. He had no idea how long she had been like this; all he knew was that if he didn't do something, and do it now, Minka would be like this perhaps for the rest of her life.
He turned to address the other pets. "I need to consult with my client privately, please," he said. "That means the rest of you have to go somewhere else and leave us alone." He waited until the other pets had walked away before returning his attention to Minka.
"Minka, listen. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I wasn't the best agent that I could have been. I tried to look out for your best interests, but everything just sort of fell apart. Can I ask a favor? Can you forget about all the other pets' plans for you? Can you forget about my plans for you? Forget about how we wanted you to be rich and famous so that way we could ride the wave of your success. Just….Just be yourself, Minka. That's all I'm asking. Will you do that, Minka? For yourself, if no one else?"
For the first time in he had no idea how long, Minka's body relaxed. She turned away from the canvas to face him.
"Do you really mean that, Russell?"
"I do," Russell said. "I'd like to see you going back to painting because you like to paint, not because it's going to make you some fancy superstar that everyone looks up to. None of us need that kind of pressure. And besides, what's a pet going to do with fame and fortune, anyway? We'll forget about all that other junk; just grab a brush and have fun with it."
Minka collapsed, dropping the brush on the floor next to her as her back hit the ground. She quickly leaped back up to her feet.
"Thank you, Russell! You really are a good agent after all." She pulled Russell in for a hug, only to get one of his spines stuck in her cheek. "OW!"
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Blythe stepped out from behind the curtain, holding Zoe behind her back. She wanted to come clean, she wanted to confess her mistake, but at the same time, she didn't want anyone to see Zoe in the state she was in. Trying to rectify what she'd done had only seemed to make things worse, and it just delayed the inevitable. Everyone was going to be angry with her; Mrs. Twombly would probably ban her from Littlest Pet Shop; Zoe was already angry, and who knew how the other pets would react if they saw her like this.
She took a deep breath and prepared for the punishment.
"Blythe, dear, it's so nice to see you again!" Mrs. Trent said. "How are things going with you?"
"Well….You know, the usual. Go to school, come home, hang out with Jasper, Sue, and Youngmee, come work at the pet shop, play with the pets, help Mrs. Twombly out, that sort of thing."
"And a big help you were today, Blythe," Mrs. Twombly said. "She totally saved the day. Raoul caught that nasty flu that Mr. Carpenter had last week and couldn't come in, so Blythe stepped up to the plate."
"Wait, wait, wait, back up," Mr. Trent said. "Raoul's sick?"
"And Blythe groomed our little Zoe?" Mrs. Trent asked.
"Gave her a spa treatment and everything," Mrs. Twombly boasted.
"But we entered her in the Manchester Kennel Club Dog Show," Mrs. Trent protested.
"I know," Mrs. Twombly said. "Fortunately, Blythe's a master at this sort of thing, if you can believe it. Of course, she practiced on her dolls, but still."
Mr. Trent looked like he was about to faint. Blythe couldn't blame him; if he didn't collapse now, he would when he saw just how badly she'd ruined Zoe.
Blythe took a deep breath, ready to accept her punishment.
"Okay, I'll admit. I, Blythe Betty Baxter, am totally, absolutely, one hundred percent responsible for what you are about to see."
"Sounds like someone put an extra dose of self-esteem in her breakfast this morning," Mrs. Twombly said.
They won't be complimenting me when they see what I've done to poor Zoe, Blythe thought. She closed her eyes and, ready for the worst, pulled Zoe from behind her back.
"My word," Mr. Trent gasped. "She's, she's…."
"She's beautiful," Mrs. Trent finished.
Blythe opened her eyes, surprised to see Zoe all fixed up – no bald spots, no matted fur, a tiny red bow tied in the fur on her head.
"Wait, what did you just say?" She turned Zoe around to get a better look. "But – but how?" She looked around, spotted Minka under a table, holding two paint brushes, one in each paw, and realized instantly what had happened.
Minka had seen the horrible state Zoe was in and painted her to look immaculate.
Thanks, Minka, Blythe said silently in her head. You really saved my bacon this time.
Mrs. Twombly put a hand on Blythe's shoulder. "I should get some credit as well, for giving you a chance to prove yourself. And I'd say you succeeded."
"It wasn't easy, Mrs. Twombly," Blythe said.
"Oh, don't be so modest. Blythe, tell me, would you like to become my official backup groomer?"
"Uh – no. No thanks, Mrs. Twombly. I mean, I appreciate the offer, but there's no way I could possibly accept your kindness." She did her best not to convey the nervousness in her voice. "Besides, Raoul's the master at this sort of thing. Besides, I need to focus on Blythe Style. That's what I'm really good at. Besides, I think I overestimated my haircutting skills just a little bit."
"A little bit?" Zoe repeated, though to everyone else in the room, she just let out a tiny bark.
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Blythe joined the rest of the pets in the day camp, listening to how the nearly drove poor Minka to insanity by pushing her to be a famous monkey artist. She would have laughed, if she wasn't so burned out from screwing up Zoe's grooming.
It was amazing that no one had noticed Minka painting Zoe. The painted fur felt dry when Blythe was holding her, felt like actual fur. Maybe next time Raoul called in sick, she would let Minka handle Zoe's grooming.
Minka was running around, playing, kindly brushing off everyone's apologies.
"That's okay! Don't worry about it! Over it! No big deal!"
"But maybe you could make one itty bitty teeny weeny little painting I could sell?" Sunil asked, eliciting a glare from Russell. "Okay, forget I said anything, Minka."
Minka hopped over to him and patted him on the head. "Thanks, Sunil. You're a good friend."
"And I want to thank you, Minka," Blythe said. "You really saved me out there. Though I'm surprised I didn't get in trouble for what I did to Zoe."
"Don't worry," Minka said. "You will."