There was a girl with short black hair in a nice clean purple dress on the floor with two kids, one being Junior and the other was a girl with brunette hair and brown eyes. She wore a violet jacket with a white shirt under, a black skirt, and white knee socks with black Mary Jane shoes. There was a brown Dauschand on the floor, watching them, he seemed to have a green vest with a red baseball cap.

"Cherry!" Anne-Marie rushed to the girl.

"Annie!" Cherry hugged her back. "I didn't think I'd see you again!"

"Me neither," Anne-Marie smiled as she looked up to the girl. "We're moving into the neighborhood, we live across the street from here now!"

"And who's this?" Cherry looked to the girl who looked more like Harold and Kate since she was their biological daughter.

"This is Charlotte, my new sister," Anne-Marie explained with a smile. "I call her 'Charlie' for short."

Cherry smiled at that, it seemed like a sweet tribute. Junior seemed to be in a better mood now as he was playing with Charlie.

'This is just way too confusing.' Patch thought.

"You okay, buddy?" Anne-Marie pet Patch. "It's okay, you can talk with me."

"You can talk to animals?" Mo asked her.

"Oh, yes, I always could and always will," Anne-Marie smiled, even if her ability had an unpleasant start. "I dunno why though... But I mostly talk to dogs."

"So do I." Mo smiled, she felt very close to Anne-Marie now.

"I'm sorry, but it's just that we've never met you or Charlie, but do know Amber?" Patch said.

"Who's Amber?" Anne-Marie asked.

"My sister's best friend, her aunt and uncle are Roger and Anita Radcliffe." Atticus explained.

Anne-Marie tried to think a moment. "Doesn't ring a bell..."

"Seriously?" Patch asked. "You must have at least heard about the 101 Dalmatians, right?"

Anne-Maria scratched her cheek to think. "Probably..."

"Oh, kid, you remember when those other dogs were barkin' late at night when you got sick once?" Itchy asked her. "That was the Twilight Bark... We was tryin' to help Pongo and Perdita's puppies."

"I had the flu..." Anne-Marie smiled sheepishly.

"Yes, that was me and my family." Patch said.

"I wish I could've helped... I'm so glad you escaped that 'devil woman'." Anne-Marie gently patted the puppy, scratching behind his ears, knowing dogs liked that.


Angel and Scamp came in then and saw the new dog.

"Well, look at you," Itchy chuckled. "You look so much like your mother."

"You knew my mother?" Angel smiled, her tail seemed to wag.

"Oh, yeah, Bess was a great dog," Itchy smiled fondly. "We went to puppy school together... I really liked her."

"Well, I'm so glad to meet you then, mister...?" Angel asked since she didn't know his name.

"Itchiford Dauschand at your service, but you can call me Itchy." the weenie dog smiled to her.

"Can you tell Angel stories about her mom?" Scamp asked, thinking his girlfriend would like that.

"I would love to." Itchy smiled, feeling like an uncle to the puppies, even if he just met them.

This made Angel very happy, finally getting to know about her mother. Itchy told Angel about how Bess was a glamorous and rich dog who was very talented and special.

Charlie rolled the ball to Junior again. "Why you lookin' at me funny?" she asked him with his strange smile and lazy eyes on her.

"N-Nothing." Junior said while blushing.

Charlie playfully stuck her tongue out as they played their baby game of catch.

"I think your brother likes my sister." Anne-Marie whispered to Mo.

"I think your sister likes my brother." Mo smirked back.

"Great, now everyone's in love except for me." Cherry sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Don't worry, Cherry, you'll find love someday and besides, who knows, you might have already found him." Atticus said.

"Yeah, maybe you just haven't looked in the right places." Mo shrugged.

Cherry sighed as she looked out the window into the sky. "I just hope he comes around soon..." she may not have had a lot of emotion due to being a perky goth, but Cherry did in fact feel lonely most of the time and actually wanted intimacy, but always had a hard time finding the right person on her own.