The Hairball of Horror! (11 page)

‘What a shame you don’t have fur to protect your lily-white skin from the harmful effects of the sun,’ chuckled Lady Fluffkins, delighting in his future discomfort.
‘You’re going to look like a bright red lobster!’

‘Don’t worry, my Lady. I already thought of that,’ smiled Baldy, glancing back to reassure his mistress. ‘I’m wearing lots of sun-protection cream so I won’t
burn at all.’

‘Must everyone spoil my fun?’ hissed the empress, gazing through the window at the blue planet as it grew smaller and smaller, and further from her grasp. Then she leaned forward,
lifted her fan and whacked Baldy’s tail as hard as she could.

‘EEEEEK!’ yelped the servant.

‘He, he he,’ chuckled the empress, grinning through her fangs. If the hairless minion wasn’t going to be sun-burned red like a lobster, then she would have to entertain herself
by making him squeal like one instead.

Back in the Pooch Pound dogs’ home, Monty was still very excited about his intergalactic adventure and learning how to put his special skills to use. He didn’t even
seem to notice that he was covered in sticky cat hairballs and looked like a ratty, tatty mongrel.

The Spacemutts enjoyed seeing him so happy, but worried that he still didn’t know how bad he looked. Which meant someone would have to tell the prize-winning poodle that after rescuing
them from the hairball horror, he was now having a pretty bad hair-day of his own.

‘I never knew digging could be so much fun!’ gasped Monty, circling his cage and panting. ‘All that time spent staying indoors and keeping clean, and I could have been digging
in the garden!’

‘Have you looked in a mirror yet?’ Poppy asked carefully.

‘No, not since we left last night,’ laughed the poodle, glancing around for his water bowl. ‘I know my paws are a bit mucky, but it’s a small price to pay for helping to
save planet Earth.’

The Spacemutts exchanged worried glances.

‘It’s a little bit more than just mucky paws,’ said Rocket.

‘Not droopy pompoms, too?’ Monty asked nervously.

‘It depends on what you mean by droopy . . .’ said Butch.

Monty saw the concerned faces of his friends and stopped pacing. He immediately reached for his water bowl, dragged it in front of him and peered at his reflection. As the ripples faded and his
reflection cleared, the poodle shook his head to make sure it was really him.

‘I look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards,’ he gasped, knocking off the loose hairballs dangling from his ears and trying to puff up the floppy pompom on his
head. ‘And my new family are coming to collect me soon!’

said Rocket.

asked Monty.

said Butch.

‘And if they don’t want you any more just because you got a bit messy, then maybe they shouldn’t even have a dog,’ Poppy said, firmly. ‘Because no one should have
to stay clean
all the time.
’

Monty frowned at his reflection and thought about how much he’d missed out on just because he was expected to look perfect all of the time. Now he only wanted a family who would let him be
a real dog!

‘You’re right!’ he said, pushing the water bowl away and standing up straight. ‘If they don’t like me as I am now, then I don’t want to go home with
them.’

‘Good for you!’ cheered the Spacemutts.