32 - The Barking Ghost (8 page)

“Oh, right. I’ll just trot into the Main Street drugstore, put five dollars
on the counter, and ask for a flea collar. Nobody will think that’s weird.” I
rolled my eyes.

Fergie snapped at me. “Well, excuse me, Cooper. I was only trying to help!”

Fergie and I spent the rest of the day snapping at each other, getting on
each other’s nerves.

When dinnertime rolled around, my stomach rumbled loudly. Then I smelled the
most wonderful smell.

I raised my nose high in the air and sniffed excitedly.

I’d know that aroma anywhere.

Liver! The leftover liver from last night!

“Come on!” I barked to Fergie. “I’ve got to get some of that liver!”

We trotted over to the back door and peered inside. My whole family had
gathered around the table, ready to eat.

“You’re drooling,” Fergie said to me in disgust. “Gross.”

Like I cared.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the plate of liver Mom carried to the table. I
watched hungrily as she placed a big slab on my father’s plate.

Then she served some to Mickey. Mickey seemed edgy, nervous. I hoped he was
still upset from my little trick this morning.

Then Mom placed a piece of liver on the phony Cooper’s plate. He jumped from
his seat. “Yuck!” he cried out in disgust. “I
hate
liver!”

Mom’s jaw dropped. “Cooper! What are you saying? You love liver!”

The phony Cooper began to stutter.

“Oh, uh, did I say I hated it? Oh, no. I’m, uh, just joking, Mom. I love
liver. Everyone knows that!”

Mom stared at him suspiciously. “Really, Cooper. You haven’t been yourself
all day!”

My eyes widened.

This was my chance!

Now was the perfect time to show Mom he
wasn’t
himself! He was a total
phony!

“I’m going in!” I told Fergie.

I burst through the kitchen door and headed straight for the plate of liver.
I’ll show Mom who the real Cooper is, I thought happily. The Cooper who loves
liver. She’ll know it’s me instantly!

This has
got
to work.

It’s our last chance, I knew. Our only chance.

Panting excitedly, I charged into the kitchen and leaped up at the table.

Mom screamed and dropped the plate of liver on the floor.

In a flash, I bent down and began lapping it up. Delicious!

“See, Mom? Look, it’s me! Your son, Cooper!” I yelped in between bites.

“Sam! Do something! That animal is eating our dinner!”

Huh? Animal? “No, Mom! It’s me! Your son! Look, I love liver!”

But it was no use.

All Mom heard was,
“Woof, woof! Woof, woof! Woof, woof! Woof, woof, woof,
woof!”

Dad shoved his chair away from the table and grabbed a newspaper from the
counter. He rolled it up, then swatted my nose.

“Ow!”

That hurt!

“I’ll see if the line to the pound is still busy,” Mom said, picking up the
phone. “Try to chase the dogs into the pantry and lock the door. We’ll hold them
in there until the pound can come get them.”

The fake Cooper and Margaret helped Dad back us toward the pantry. “Bad dogs!
Bad!” the phony Margaret shouted.

“Dad, do you think the pound will use a tranquilizer gun on them?” the phony
Cooper asked.

“Maybe,” Dad replied.

I glanced over at Fergie.

Tranquilizer guns? No thank you!

I never ran so fast in all my life. I even ran faster than Fergie.

“Got any other bright ideas, fleabag?” she asked when we were safely in the
woods.

I growled at her and turned away. The sun was setting over the trees. The air
felt cool. It would be dark soon.

“And thanks for saving some of that liver for me,” Fergie snapped. “I’m
hungry, too, you know!”

I ignored her.

I gazed longingly through the trees. Through the window of my house as Mom and Dad washed the dishes.

I couldn’t help myself. I felt so bad. I started whimpering.

If only I could be inside my warm, comfortable house right now. In a short
while, it would be dark. I didn’t want to spend a night in the woods.

Think, Cooper! Think! I urged myself. There must be a way to get our human
bodies back.

“Whoa! Wait a minute!” I cried. “I just thought of something!”

Fergie awoke from a nap. “What?” she asked lazily.

“We’re dogs, right?”

“Right.”

“So we should act like dogs!”

Fergie narrowed her eyes. “Cooper, what are you talking about?”

I took a deep breath. “Okay, listen,” I explained. “Remember how those ghost
dogs got us out to the shack?”

Fergie nodded.

“That’s what we should do! We should pull those kids back there, the way they
pulled us! That’s what dogs would do!”

Fergie raised her head. Her ears perked up. “Not bad! Not bad at all!”

“We’re dogs,” I continued. “We have sharp teeth, right? Very sharp teeth.
We’ll drag them into the woods and into the Changing Room—and before you know
it, we’ll be Cooper and Fergie again!”

Fergie bounced up and began panting happily and wagging her tail.
“Excellent!” she cried.

“Okay, here’s the plan.” With my paw, I drew a diagram in the dirt. “The
phonies are here, in the den. We’ll walk through the wall and haul them out
through the kitchen door. It’s okay if Mom and Dad follow. We can outrun them.”

“I’m ready. Let’s do it!” Fergie exclaimed.

We trotted to the house and pushed through the wall, as planned.

Inside, the fake Cooper and Fergie were watching MTV on the den TV. We burst
through the den wall and surprised them.

“Mom!” the fake Cooper screamed at the top of his lungs. “Dad! Help! It’s the
dogs!”

Fergie and I moved in on them, snarling as ferociously as we knew how.

I clamped on to the fake Cooper’s ankle just as my parents and Mickey burst
into the room. I motioned to Fergie to get on with it. In a flash, she leaped on
to the phony Fergie and clamped her jaws around her wrist.

Then we tugged.

“Mom! Dad! Help!” the phony Cooper yelled.

“Mr. Holmes!” the phony Fergie cried. “Do something! They’re attacking us!”

Mom ran for the broom. But before Dad could swing into action, Fergie and I
had dragged the imposters through the kitchen.

I caught a glimpse of Mickey as I tugged. He was hiding in the corner,
shaking all over.

Too bad I didn’t have time to enjoy that picture.

We were out the door now. Everything was working perfectly. Fergie and I
would be back to normal in no time.

The phonies knew where we were taking them. But there was nothing they could
do about it. Fergie and I were too strong, too ferocious.

“Dad! Help!” the fake Cooper cried again.

“Don’t worry!” Dad called out to him. “The dogs don’t seem to want to hurt
you! I think they want us to follow them!”

Way to go, Dad!

A short while later, I spotted the clearing where the old shack stood. It
won’t be long now, I thought happily. In a few minutes, Fergie and I will walk
home with my parents. On two legs. No more fleas. No more food from garbage
pails. I couldn’t wait!

We panted wildly as the struggling imposters attempted to break free. But
Fergie and I held on to them for dear life, tugging them, tugging with all our canine strength.

And, then, finally, we were there. The old shack. We pushed the phonies up
against the door.

I released the fake Cooper from my grip for a second. I had no choice. I had
to scratch a flea.

The phony tried to make a run for it.

“Cooper! He’s getting away!” Fergie barked.

“No way!” I barked back. I bounded off after him and clamped my jaws down on
the hem of his shirt. Then I dragged him back to the shack.

The fake Fergie screamed with all her might. “No! No! Not in there again!”

I glared up at her.

“Hold on, Margaret,” I heard Mom call. “Don’t be afraid. Let’s see what the
dogs are trying to show us.”

It was time. Time to make the switch.

“Now!” I yelped.

Fergie and I jumped on the imposters and sent them tumbling into the shack.
Then we leaped in after them.

All four of us fell down, down, down. Down into the solid blackness.

Once again, I felt dizzy and warm.

Warmer. Warmer. As if the warm blanket were being pulled over me.

I could feel myself changing. Changing in the darkness, in the sweltering
heat.

I gazed above my head. A glowing shadow hovered over me. A shadow with tiny
red eyes.

My body shuddered. I began to shake.

And all at once I knew. Something wasn’t right.

“Fergie!” I cried out in a harsh whisper. “It’s not working! Something is
wrong! Something is very wrong!”

“Cooper!” my mom cried happily, running toward the shack with outstretched
arms. “Are you okay?”

“Margaret, what happened in there?” Dad called. “What happened to the dogs?”

“We’re okay,” Margaret muttered. “It’s just an empty shack. That’s all.”

“I’m going to call the pound again as soon as we get home,” Mom announced.
“Those dogs shouldn’t be allowed to roam free. They’re dangerous!”

“Let’s just get out of here, okay, Dad?” Cooper said.

Fergie nodded in agreement. “We’re okay, Let’s go home.”

“What an adventure!” Mom sighed.

“At least it isn’t boring up here in our new home,” Dad added.

“For sure,” Cooper agreed.

* * *

“What happened?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

I watched my parents walking away from the shack, their arms around two kids.

“Hey! Those kids!” I cried. “They’re not us!”

The door to the shack opened, and two black Labs stumbled out in a daze.
Their eyes met, then they bolted away, barking frantically.

What’s their problem? I wondered.

I watched the dogs disappear into the trees.

What’s going on? I asked myself, totally confused.

I’m not a kid—and I’m not a dog, either!

“Hey, Fergie? Fergie?”

Where
was
she?

When she popped up next to me, we both gasped.

“Oh, no! Please—no! No! No! Noooo!” she wailed.

Her head cocked to one side, and her little brown nose twitched furiously.

“Tell me we’re
not!”
I begged her. “Please, Fergie—tell me we’re
not…”

“We
are!”
Fergie squeaked. “We… we’re
chipmunks!”

We both squeaked and chittered our surprise.

Fergie gazed down at her furry little body. “How did this happen, Cooper? How
did this happen?”

“The woods are filled with chipmunks,” I sighed. “Two of them must have
wandered into the Changing Room. And we—”

“We switched with the chipmunks—not the kids!” Fergie cried. Her bushy tail
thumped furiously on the ground.

I examined my tiny black paws. I moved my teeny little fingers. I twitched my
button nose.

Cute. I was so cute!

“Now what?” Fergie wailed. “What do we do now?”

“Uh… hunt for acorns?” I suggested.

Fergie’s beady little eyes squinted into mine. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s hunt for acorns!” I said. “I’m starving!”

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