Chapter 9

The metal kennel was far from comfortable, despite the blanket at the bottom that served no purpose. There was a bowl of... "food," in the corner that Ferb had no intention of touching. Regrettably, he did succumb to thirst after a few hours and took some of the water.

"My name is Ferb Fletcher," he called out loudly to the guard on a chair in the other room. "I am a seventeen year old human being and I'm not supposed to be here."

"Oh shush, you," the employee complained as, annoyed, he tossed a full water bottle through the door into the back kennel room in an effort to quiet him. Ferb stopped barking and watched the bottle roll along the concrete.

He looked up at the other animals in cages throughout the room. All of them were either sleeping or sitting quietly, bored. Ferb was the only one making a racket.

"My brother's name is Phineas Flynn," Ferb started up again. "He can explain the whole thing to you."

"Stop it, Dog. Barking will get you nowhere," the man whined.

"His cell is four eighty five, six two five two. Call him and he will come get me."

"Fine, bark all you want. You'll do nothing but rattle my eardrums and make yourself hoarse," the guard answered from the other room. "You've got your food, you've got your water. What else do you want? I'm not letting you out."

The employee got up and came to the bright doorway, so that Ferb could see him. The man grabbed the side of the door and started to close it. "It's late out and I'm going home. Do yourself a favor and go to sleep."

The sliver of light from the door shrunk and slimmed, until the whole room, and Ferb's cage, were left alone in blackness.

"You said you were at the park with him?" Isabella's voice asked from the other end of Phineas' phone.

"Yeah! He went off into the forest to be helpful and find a frisbee for somebody. But then he never came out," Phineas explained fretfully. "And I haven't seen him since."

Phineas was sitting on the living room couch that next morning, having called Isabella immediately when he had woken up. The previous day, after searching all over the park grounds, Phineas had been forced to retreat home, thinking that perhaps Ferb had made it back before him.

"Maybe Ferb decided that he wanted to go off and do something different?" Isabella suggested.

"If Ferb had wanted to go off and do something different, he would have definitely told me first," Phineas pointed out. "Hey, he would have probably offered to bring me along! No, wherever he is, I don't think he went there on purpose."

"You know I'll always help you out, Phineas," Isabella assured him. "Let's go back to the park and look around more. Is he still a dog?"

"Yeah. He'll be a dog still for another four days or so," explained Phineas. "But yeah, he could still be at the park."

Then Phineas paused for a second and stared distantly out the window. "Though I don't know why he would go and disappear like that."

"Ferb!" Isabella and Phineas both called out as they made it through the paths of Danville Park. "Feeerrrbbb?"

"Where was the last place you saw him?" Isabella asked in an idea.

"Over there by the fence." Phineas pointed towards where the frisbee had been lost the previous day.

Isabella led the way towards the designated area, and Phineas followed. "Maybe we can find out what happened to him."

They both started to walk alongside the edge of the fence, as it curved and cut into the trees. The afternoon air was quite shadowy beneath the canopy of leaves.

"And you're sure that this is where he went?" Isabella clarified.

"Yeah he was looking for a frisbee," Phineas mumbled in passing. The he exclaimed in fright, "He fell into a hole, I just know it! He fell into a hole and he can't get out. Ferb! Are you in a hole?"

Phineas stopped talking when he noticed the houses surrounding them. He commented, "Would he have went this far?"

"If he found the frisbee, then yes," was Isabella's reply. She drew out a finger to gesture past the fence. "I see it right over there."

Phineas' eye caught sight of the brightly colored object hidden under a tree. But he also caught sight of a glinting metal thing that was covered in dirt on his side of the barrier. He squinted at it.

"What is that thing?" Isabella asked, having also spotted it.

"I think it's Phineas started, walking towards it. Then, Phineas reached down and slowly pulled it out of the grass. Little pieces of dirt fell off of the crevasses in the metal as Phineas drug it up off the ground, dangling wires and all. He wrapped his fingers tightly around it as he grasped it close. He looked at the muddy floor and breathed.

"It's Ferb's translator. He... he doesn't have it on him."

Phineas looked up and around at the trees, fence, and houses. "And it's already after noontime."

Pulling the device in his palms tighter, Phineas fretted, "It's almost been a whole day since I've seen him last. Something's happened to him."

Isabella put a hand on her friend's elbow in an effort to console him. But Phineas continued his worried thoughts.

"Ferb knows the way to the house, if he could come back then he would've already. Something is stopping him from coming home."

The kennel room was brighter with the lights on and day staff filling the shelter rooms. Sounds of busy employees met Ferb's ears as he sat with his chin on his paws. He had given up on barking and complaining; nobody could understand him anyway, no matter how well he pleaded his case.

The other dogs were eagerly pressing against their cages. They had heard the same thing Ferb had: the sounds of new people entering through the outside doors. Soon their voices caught Ferb's attention.

"I don't know if I'm ready yet, David," a female voice said with a debating tone. "It's been only a week since we had to put our Sammy down."

"A new dog will be good for you," the second replied, just as he pushed his way through the doorway.

What? Ferb thought, backing to the dark end of the cage. No no no no no...

The couple walked down to the far end of the cages, where several caged dogs began jumping wildly at them. A kennel employee was following them with a key.

"Martha, look at this one," the man named David pointed out, directing his wife's attention to a dog on the far end. "He's white and brown, just like Sammy."

"Mmm," Martha replied, hand on her chin as she continued to search past the cages. Ferb closed his eyes in an effort to make himself invisible.

"I like this one," came Martha's voice. It was strangely louder and closer than before, and Ferb dared to take a peek out from under his lids. He blinked them open and jumped: she had stopped in front of him.

"That one?" David asked doubtfully. He gestured to the rest of the room. "But there are plenty of other dogs just begging to come home with us."

"Yes, yes, anyone else but me," Ferb whined as he shuffled his feet further into the back wall of the cage.

"Ah. That one," the man with the keys commented. "He was found out behind the park after a barking complaint. No collar and no microchip, either. Doesn't look like he's ever been owned."

"He just looks like he needs a hug," Martha answered honestly after David and the shelter employee appeared next to her. Martha put a hand on the cage's bars. "He seems so sad and lonely in there."

"He does, doesn't he," David remarked. "You really want that one?"

"No! Not me," Ferb argued. He closed his eyes again and turned away. "I'm the only one in here who you don't want."

"Everybody needs a hug from time to time," was Martha's reply.

"Alrighty," the man behind them finished as he drew out his keys and began to turn them in the lock.

"You don't want me!" Ferb moaned as he felt hands grab him. He tried to cling onto the blanket, but it just slid under his paws. "Pick one of the other dogs. Pick a normal one. Not me."

"Doesn't seem like he wants to go, does he?" David noticed. By now Ferb had ended up in Martha's arms, wriggling in an attempt at escape.

"We had a hard time getting him in there," the employee made known. "He squirmed all he wanted, but don't worry. He's never once bitten anybody."

The man gave a laugh. "That one's a fighter, not a biter."

After exhausting his strength, Ferb finally gave up and flattened his ears. He resonated a long, low growl from the back of his throat that made his protest known.

"...But I'll tell you what. You can take him home for a few days to see if things go well. If they don't, bring him back and we'll work something out," the man suggested as he came behind them to lock the empty cage once more.

"He'll warm up when we get him home, I'm sure," Martha decided, still keeping him safely in her arms.