Chapter 8: Reunion
Inside the cold, dark police cell, Sasha La Fleur, the Irish Setter, was resting her back on the hard floor, staring hopelessly at the ceiling. At the side of her, there sat a metal compound bowl - on one side, there was but a shallow disc of water; on the other, were a few small chunks of left-over, cheap-brand dog food.
Eventually, the Setter rolled over on to her side. Craning her neck towards the bowl, she parted her chops, making a feeble attempt at picking up one of the chunks.
Urgh, she groaned. Being here sucks. This food sucks. I'm tired, thirsty, and hungry. How much longer must I wait before someone comes along and rescues me?
Reluctantly, she got back up on her feet, and snapped up the last few bits of food, before lapping up what little remained of the water. Once she had finished, she blew away the split ends which had been hanging in front of her eyes, her voluminous hair having been ruined by the stress.
Then, the sound of footsteps could be heard, coming from the end of the corridor which led to the cell. As it approached, Sasha stepped hurriedly towards the mesh which kept her inside, hoping that this would be good news. However, when she saw the blue trousers and white shirt of the advancing human, her heart sank.
"Ay-up!" he said, as he peered through the gate of the cell. "What's the catch of the day today, then? Ha, ha!" Perhaps it should be mentioned, that the tone of his laugh was more light-hearted than villainous.
Next, he withdrew from his belt-loops a dull, grey chain, with a loop of red-and-white rope attached at the end, to act as a rudimentary collar.
"Come on, girl," the dog-catcher grunted, as he unlocked the gate, opening it just wide enough to reach through, and slipped the loop over Sasha's neck. "Let's get you moving, then."
Giving a gentle tug on the chain, he led the Setter out from the space where she had been enclosed for the past two days, making sure to lock the door again behind her. With that, he began to walk her back up the corridor with him, but he was suddenly interrupted by a voice from the other direction.
"Excuse us, sir!"
Pivoting around, the dog-catcher saw that a group of three police officers were walking towards him. The first two had the now-infamous Schnoodle being frog-marched between them, and the third was pushing along a large wooden crate on a trolley.
"Hello?" the man in the white shirt replied. "What seems to be the problem?"
"That's an innocent dog you've got there, sir," said the first officer. "This guy's the one you want!"
"Unhand me this instant, you foolish humans!" Killer barked, prompting an angry snarl from Sasha, and a taser in the side from the second officer.
"Down, girl, down!" the dog-catcher said to Sasha, pulling hard on his makeshift leash to keep her under control. "Are you officers sure about this?"
"Of course we are," the first of the policemen replied. "Show him the evidence, Grimes."
The third officer then stepped forward, pushing the trolley along in front of him. Once the crate was directly in front of the dog-catcher, Grimes unlocked and opened it, exposing the partially-dismantled body of a robot inside.
As the man observed the evidence, Sasha, resting her paws on the edge of the crate, looked inside as well. As she clapped eyes on her metallic doppelgänger, CyberSasha, her facial expression became one of shock.
"... Tell you what," the dog-catcher advised. "You keep the bad dog in the cell for now, and I'll let the Setter go. Would that be okay?"
"Yes," the first officer replied. "So long as you don't keep us waiting."
"But, but sir... I think that boy-dog looks too dangerous for the pound. Surely he belongs in Penitentiary?"
"We'll see, we'll see. Well, go on, then. She's a free dog now."
Meanwhile, in the lobby of the San Francisco Police Department, David and his father were sat, waiting, on a bench. The boy was hunched over, his head buried in his lap, as his father patted him comfortingly on the head.
"It's all right, son," he whispered. "It shouldn't take long."
In response, David straightened back up, and clutched his parent by the shoulder, his teary eyes looking back up at him. The boy said nothing, only making a few sniffling sounds.
After a few seconds of this, the father looked back up, and that was when he noticed the dog-catcher advancing into the room; the Setter, of course, was following closely behind.
"Hey, David!" he continued. "Look!"
His son then turned towards the other man.
"Sasha!"
Hearing the boy's voice, the dog-catcher approached him.
"You know this dog, kid?"
"Uhh..."
"Yes," the father chipped in. "She's, err... a friend of my son's, sir."
"Doesn't seem like she has a licence. You don't own her as a pet, do you?"
"No, no," David answered. "She's not a pet. As my dad said, she's just a good friend of mine, that's all. Here, girl - give me your paw."
He then held out his hand, and Sasha responded by clasping her paw against it.
"See? She recognises me."
"Hmmm... I know this isn't really a part of my job, kid, but..."
He then moved his mouth closer to the boy's ear, and whispered, "I'll let you take her with you."
"Thank you, sir!"
With that, the dog-catcher removed the rope and chain from Sasha's neck, allowing her to follow David, and his father, back to their house.
"So, Sparlie! Now that you have put a stop to the forces of evil once again, what are you planning to do next, hmmm? A relaxing vacation in Dragon Shores, perhaps? Or maybe an excursion to Sunny Beach or Seashell Shore would be more to your liking?"
"Well, Bentley... as much as I'd love to, I'm afraid I... err, I mean, Charlie has a few small matters to be dealing with in his world."
The dragon-dog, and the yeti, were standing in a lush, green field, with a boom microphone stood between them, as though they had been conducting an interview. Not only were they there, but a small group of Spyro's friends and allies were also in attendance: Sheila, the Kangaroo; Sgt. Byrd, the Flying Penguin; Hunter, the Cheetah; and Bianca, the Rabbit. In addition, Sparx, the Dragonfly, was hovering by Sparlie's shoulder; Annabelle, the Professor, and Agent 9 - in Angel form - were stood behind him.
"Oh, please do attempt to make good conversation," the pink Whippet advised Sparlie. "We did not come here for nothing, you know."
"Oh, yes," he replied, remembering that he was, in fact, two creatures in one body. "In that case, yes, Spyro would be more than happy to, err... take a break from all that's been... happening over the past two days."
With that, he turned back to his superior, noticing her raised eyebrows, before looking towards the enrobed, and haloed, monkey.
"Goodbye, friend," Sparlie continued, still speaking as Spyro. "It's been great knowing you."
Next, Annabelle formed a column of light over Agent 9, and he began to levitate up off the ground.
"See ya," he replied. "Time to get back to those golden bananas, and silver coconuts too..."
Everyone watched, with small tears forming in their eyes, as the simian slowly ascended up the column. A minute later, he was nowhere to be seen, and they all lowered their heads in remembrance.
Once this ceremony had been completed, it was time for Sparlie - or rather, Charlie - and Annabelle, to leave. As the dragon-dog was about to step into the portal in the centre of the field, however, the Whippet quickly checked him.
"A-hem!" she said. "First things first, you two."
She then placed her paw over his canine nose, and he was covered all over in a pink glow. As he was enveloped in the light, the form of Sparlie began to split into its two separate bodies, and when the glow finally disappeared, Charlie and Spyro were stood side-by-side, with Sparx migrating to the shoulder of the dragon.
Once the two dogs had said their farewells, they entered the portal, and drifted through, back to their own world.
On the other side, the Shepherd and the Whippet found themselves in the living-room of David's house.
"Hey..." said Charlie, once he was on his feet again. "We're back."
Upon taking a quick look around, however, he saw that there appeared to be no one else in the room... but not for long.
A second later, there came the sound of the front door unlocking, and opening.
"There we go," said the voice of David's father. "Home again!"
Charlie's ears perked up, before he made a bee-line for the hallway.
"David!" he called out, as he stepped through the doorway. "Good to see you, buddy!"
As the Shepherd approached him, the boy gave Charlie a stroke on the head. The dog rolled over on to his back, but instead of David, it was another dog who came up to scratch his belly.
"Well, hello, my favourite boy," she said, moving her face up to his. "Missed me?"
"Sasha!" Charlie rejoiced. "You're back!"
"Nooo..." the red Setter gasped sarcastically.
"Well, to answer your question," the Shepherd cross continued. "I missed you so much, I couldn't sleep a wink at night."
"Hmm. Neither could I, funnily enough."
"Come along now, you two love-birds," said Annabelle jokingly. "Mr. Itchiford is upstairs, if you wish to see him."
"Okay, then," Charlie replied, as Sasha helped him back up. "Let's go."
With that, the three dogs made their way up the stairs, and into David's room. Inside, they found their Dachshund friend sitting in bed, with a bowl of ambrosia resting on the bedside chest-of-drawers. In addition, Gerta was sat on a bean-bag near the closet, where David's step-mother was tending to her wounds.
"Hey! Itchy-m'-boy!" the Shepherd continued. "How're you feeling?"
"Huh... not too bad, actually," his friend replied. "Thanks to this ambrosia, I'm feeling a lot better."
"That's great. Here... I believe this is yours."
Charlie then removed the scabbard holding the second wakizashi from his back, and set it down gently on the bed.
"Thank you. Could you place that by the drawers, please?"
Doing as directed, the Shepherd re-located the sword, propping it up next to its twin. After that, he turned to face Itchy again.
"What's this, eh?" he said, resting his paw on the Dachshund's cap, noting that its peak was pointing forward.
"Heh-heh... You can blame Annabelle for that."
Upon hearing this, the Whippet Archangel gave the two males a stern glance. Once Charlie had slowly turned the cap around, her expression grew into one of annoyance.
"Sorry..." Charlie responded, turning the hat back to its original position, before raising his paws with guilt.
Behind him, meanwhile, Sasha had been speaking with Gerta.
"My gosh," the red-furred dog began. "What happened to you?"
"There was an earthquake at the Café," the Bichon explained. "Charlie managed to pull me out from the rubble, but in the meantime, we're out of a job."
Sasha's face fell on those last five words.
"What now, then?" she continued after a few moments of hesitation. "Without jobs, we'll both end up going broke."
"Well," Gerta replied in her gravelly voice. "We'd better get cracking, then. Or, at least, you'd better, until I'm back in shape."
Sasha nodded, straightening back up, as a paw rested on her shoulder.
"Don't worry, Sash," said Charlie. "I'll help you sort things out."
"You will?"
"Of course I will. Tell you what - how 'bout we have an afternoon out?"
Sasha's eyes widened at the thought.
"... Well... I don't see why not. Yes, that sounds good. Something to help take my mind off things, perhaps."
She then briefly rubbed noses with her partner, before he led her away.
"Hmm..." Charlie muttered. "Now, why do I have this craving for mutton?"
Sasha glared with her emerald eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, err... Nothing."
As the canine couple were about to open the door and leave, Charlie turned back to face his friend once more.
"You can't keep a good dog down, eh?" he remarked.
"No..." the Dachshund replied, his voice quietening almost to a whisper. "... You can't."
Once his friends had left the room, he lowered the pillow from the headboard to the mattress, and rested his tired head against it.
"Rest well, Mr. Itchiford," Annabelle said to him. "Am I to trust that you will be fit to remain without me for a short while?"
"Yes, Ms. Annabelle. I'll be all right."
He then briefly sat back up to take another yellow cube from the bowl. Once he had swallowed it, he lowered his head back down on to the soft white pillow.
"Goodbye," the Whippet said, as she made her way out through the door. "I will be back soon, Mr. Itchiford. If you should require anything, feel free to ask the good lady."
Just as the door-handle clicked back into place, the Dachshund's eyes fell closed.
Ahhh, he sighed in his mind, as David's step-mother patted him gently on the top of his head. Just you guys wait till I'm back on my feet again. Tomorrow is going to be a good day.
== The End ==
The author claims NO ownership of the characters depicted in this work.
The All Dogs Go to Heaven franchise, and related characters, are property of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.
Spyro The Dragon and related characters are the creation of Insomniac Games, and are currently property of Activision.