Badger the Mystical Mutt and Daydream Drivers (2 page)

In Badger’s garden, there was much flurry and fluster. The Mystical Mutt had crafted a baa-baa-flick — a multi-coloured duster — from all of the feathers. Now, he was rushing around trying to make everything just so for his cousin’s arrival. He had polished his plant pot, dusted down the sundial and cleared the shed of cobwebs.

The fluffiest blankets were in his bed and he had changed the water in his drinking bowl. His
neckerchief was freshly ironed and his nails were clipped. He was even willing to share his higgledy-piggledy tower of toast. Standing back to inspect his handiwork, he felt very pleased with himself. He eyed the tower of toast hungrily, and decided he deserved a few slices now. After all, he’d worked very hard cleaning and tidying.

As he munched on his snack, he heard the distant pomp of an approaching fanfare. Badger peered out into the lane and saw all the birds lined up along the fence, with their chests puffed out in salute. As the fanfare drew nearer, the alley cats emerged to see what all the fuss was about. Badger stood to attention as a long elegant nose came into view, followed by the noble swish of an Afghan hound.

The Earl of Doodlepoppington had arrived.

“Greetings, dear fellow,” said the Earl.

“Hi, Doodles,” answered Badger.

“Ssssshhhh! Don’t call me Doodles. I shall be addressed by my full title at all times,” said the Earl snootily.

“Okay, Doodles. Come on in to my gracious abode.”

The Earl cringed as he stepped through the crack in the fence and into Badger’s garden.

“Well, I suppose this will have to do,” he sneered. “It’s only for a short time. My work here should be speedy enough.”

“Your work?” enquired Badger. “I thought this was just a visit.”

“Ah, indeed, dear boy, a bit of business and er …” the Earl raised a disdainful eyebrow, “… and a bit of pleasure.”

“What kind of business?” asked Badger, suspiciously.

“Well, you know, of course, that my father is soon to hand over the business to me, so I must investigate potential sites for development,” boasted his cousin. “But enough of that just now. First, let’s feast and I’ll show you my plans later.”

Once they’d had their toast and Badger had updated his cousin on all his adventures, he told him about Lennie’s problems with his nightmares and the gang.

The Earl dismissed Badger’s worries and rolled out the drawings for his latest project: a development of bespoke luxury doghouses.

Badger’s eyes widened at the plans for kennels designed for over-pampered pups. They included fur-lined, temperature-controlled beds, automated food and water
dispensers, day lounges, spa baths and pawpad entry systems.

“Toastastic, Doodles! I’ve never seen anything like it. Where are you planning this?” asked Badger excitedly.

The Earl chuckled, tapped his nose with his paw and said, “Closer than you think, Badger boy. Now, tell me more about this gang. Do they actually
live
on the lane?”

Meanwhile, the lane shook with the rumble of heavy snoring. Lennie lay amidst the lavender and camomile in a deep, deep sleep. His paws twitched, his tail swished and his eyebrows wiggled from side to side in alarm.

He was stuck inside another of his nightmares, and this time he was at the seaside. But he wasn’t running in the waves, or chasing a stick. He was lying very still upon the sand. His head was umbrella-shaped, and his paws had become trailing tentacles. Lennie had turned into a squidgy jellyfish.

Pogo Paws and Pickle sped towards him, with a giant bouncy beach ball. He started to quiver. Suddenly, Pickle threw the ball directly at him, and crushed his wobbly body into the sand. He squished about helplessly whilst Pogo Paws and Pickle aimed again, shouting gleefully:

“We’ve found you, so finders keepers, losers weepers. Try not to cry, Lennie while we splat you!”

As eight paws trampled closer to Lennie’s terrified face, he let out an almighty yell: “Don’t squash me, don’t squash me!”

He jerked awake to see the alley cats looking at him quizzically. At their feet were the remains of a torn old beach ball.

“It’s okay, Lennie. Playtime’s over. We’ve scratched and burst this ball, so no more squashing for us today,” answered the amused alley cats.

Lennie stood up and shook himself.

“Oh no, I must have been asleep for ages. It’s almost dusk, and I still haven’t come up with a plan to impress Pogo Paws and Pickle. The Earl needs to know that
we’re
in charge of the lane.”

He really needed the Dreamcatcher but, more importantly, he needed a plan. And Badger was his only hope. He headed straight for the Mystical Mutt’s garden.

The Earl of Doodlepoppington strolled along the lane with his notebook, pencil and tape measure. He measured up. He measured down. He calculated far. He calculated wide. In his notebook, he jotted this, and he jotted that. He set up his tripod and placed his very expensive camera on top. He clicked here. He snapped there. Suddenly, he heard the rattle of bin lids nearby.

“Come out!” he
commanded. “Show yourself! There’s no point in hiding. I know you are there”.

Two heads appeared from behind the bins: Pogo Paws and Pickle. They marched up to the Earl.

“You need permission to take pictures of the lane,” said Pickle bossily.

“Do I indeed?” said the Earl. “And from
whom
should I seek this permission, pray tell?”

“Us!
We’re
the gang and
we’re
in charge of the lane,” said Pickle assertively.

“Oh,
you’re
the gang? Shouldn’t I really be discussing this with your illustrious leader? Lennie, is it? The same Lennie who doesn’t actually want to be your leader, and is having dreadful nightmares? Poor dear Lennie!” mocked the Earl.

Pogo Paws and Pickle looked at each other in shame.

“Perhaps I should consult with you two?” suggested the Earl. “You seem fairly streetwise, and can recognise a good deal when it’s offered.”

Pickle sneered. “What do you mean? This is
our
patch, and
you’re
on it. So get off it, now!”

The Earl raised himself up to his full height and looked down his very long nose.

“Who’s going to make me?”

“Us!” said Pogo Paws and Pickle together.

“You, and whose army?” scoffed the Earl, looking all around him. “Perhaps I should tell you my plans? I can assure you I will make it worth your while.”

Pogo Paws and Pickle stepped closer and huddled in to hear what the Earl had to say.

Lennie arrived in Badger’s garden in a panic. He found Badger busy setting out the bristles and brushes for his cousin’s strict grooming regime.

Sorry to interrupt you, Badger. I really need your advice. It’s about your cousin,” pleaded Lennie.

“Doodles? What’s he done?”

“Well, that’s the thing. He hasn’t done anything … yet. But Pogo Paws and Pickle think I should see him off our patch. I’ve got to meet them and tell them what my plan is. What shall I do?” He sighed.

Badger scratched his head and said: “I’d be happy to see the back of him too. Now, let me think. Aha, I might just have the very thing. The Earl’s prime concern is his grooming. He likes to show off his magnificent coat and long locks. What we need is something which will scupper that. So maybe I could magic up a flea?”

“A flea?” asked Lennie.

“Yes, a flea to make him flee.” Badger chuckled.

He picked up a nearby crumb of toast and pulled a jam jar from his plant pot. He put the crumb inside the jar, then placed it very carefully in front of him. Lennie watched as sparkles of light twinkled around Badger.

His eyebrows twitched as he closed his eyes and said the rhyming spell:

“Take this single crumb of bread
,

Give it a body and a head
.

Make it bounce and make it jump
,

Onto Doodlepoppington’s rump
.

Become a flea and make him scratch
,

And send him packing from our patch.”

Lennie and Badger both stepped back nervously hoping the spell had worked. Slowly, the crumb transformed into an energetic flea.

“Now,” said Badger lifting up the jam jar and handing it to Lennie. “Take this, and go and meet Pogo Paws and Pickle. Tell them your plan. I think they’ll be impressed.”

“Amazing, Badger! Thank you so much. That should work a treat,” said Lennie gratefully.

As he turned to go, he painfully remembered his nightmare from before. “How’s it going with the Dreamcatcher, Badger? I had another nightmare earlier, and this time I was a jellyfish.”

“That doesn’t sound so terrifying, Lennie. Anything with the word ‘jelly’ in it can’t be
that bad!” said Badger licking his lips.

“Yes, but Pogo Paws and Pickle were about to squash me!”

“Ah!” agreed Badger. “Not so good. Okay, I need one final thing to complete your Dreamcatcher: a sprinkling of Jupiter’s jewels can only be found in the Crystal Cave, and that involves a special trip. But I have something you could try in the meantime.”

Badger searched in his plant pot and pulled out another jam jar filled with milk and cinnamon.

“You just need to warm it a little before drinking it, but it should keep those nightmares at bay in the short term.”

“Thanks, Badger.”

“Good luck with Pogo Paws and Pickle, Lennie.”

Lennie trotted back up the lane with his two jam jars, to meet Pogo Paws and Pickle. He stood in front of them both triumphantly with his paws behind his back.

“I’ve sorted it, look!” He thrust a paw towards them, proudly showing the jam jar.

“Milk?” exclaimed Pogo Paws.

“What’s that going to do exactly?” snapped Pickle.

“Oops, wrong one,” said Lennie quickly, showing them the other jar.

Pogo Paws and Pickle peered through the glass.

“What’s that?” asked Pogo Paws.

“It’s a jumping flea, to make him flee our patch once and for all,” said Lennie, feeling very chuffed.

“Ah, er, well done, Lennie. But actually, plans have changed,” said Pickle.

“What do you mean? This is the perfect way to get rid of him,” said Lennie.

“But we don’t want to get rid of him now,” said Pogo Paws.

“The Earl has offered us a job,” said Pickle. “And in return, he’s giving us a swanky new luxury doghouse to live in.”

“What? Where? And what about me?” asked Lennie.

“What about you? You’ve not been much of a leader to us. Here’s a new home for
you!”

They dragged Lennie to the sandpit at the end of the lane and threw him in.

Pogo Paws and Pickle kicked up sand with their back legs until Lennie was covered right up to his neck.

They both ran off cackling. Lennie couldn’t move an inch. He closed his eyes and hoped for a miracle.