First published by Egmont USA, 2012
443 Park Avenue South, Suite 806
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © Patrick Jennings, 2012
All rights reserved
1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2
www.egmontusa.com
www.patrickjennings.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Jennings, Patrick.
Invasion of the dognappers / Patrick Jennings.
p. cm.
Summary: When nine-year-old Logan discovers that aliens are abducting pet dogs, he and his friends form the Intergalactic Canine Rescue Unit, and Logan stows away on a spaceship in hopes of saving man’s best friend.
ISBN 978-1-60684-287-4 (hardcover) -- ISBN 978-1-60684-289-8 (ebook) [1. Alien abduction--Fiction. 2. Extraterrestrial beings--Fiction. 3. Dogs--Fiction. 4. Stowaways--Fiction. 5. Interplanetary voyages--Fiction. 6. Science fiction. 7. Mystery and detective stories] I. Title.
PZ7.J4298715Inv 2012
[Fic]--dc23
2011027750
Printed in the United States of America
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
For Logan and Blake,
who heard it first
Thanks to Heather Flanagan;
Cassie, River, Rowan, and Shae;
and Lily Richey, for the title.
6. The Intergalactic Canine Rescue Unit
12. The Fate of the World’s Dogs
34. Giving the Boss the Business
“Stop the bus! Stop the bus! A dog just vanished into thin air!”
The bus driver, who wore a black sea captain’s cap down low over her eyes, looked up at the huge, rectangular mirror over her head and said, “Sit down, Logan.”
Logan was bouncing on his seat.
“Roberta! I think it was abducted by aliens!” he yelled louder. “You must stop the bus!”
“You will be very sorry if I stop this bus, Logan,” the driver said. “Now sit down.”
Logan groaned his disapproval, then plopped onto his seat. He pressed his face to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the thief.
“I saw a dog vanish this morning,” Logan said.
“What do you mean ‘vanish’?” Thatcher asked, flipping his shoulder-length hair out of his face. “Did it run away? Did someone take it?”
“It was tied up outside Sandwiches,” Logan said. “Then it vanished.”
“A dog vanished,” Kian said flatly. The only sign that he found this remark absurd was the slight cocking of his left eyebrow. Unfortunately, his bangs hid his eyebrows.
“Right,” Logan said. “Poof.”
“Can a dog vanish?” Thatcher asked. “I mean, into thin air? They can’t, right? Can they?”
“What about when they get picked up by the dogcatcher?” Aggy asked, looking up from her book, the third in a series about a girl who discovers Earth is actually the blue eye of a giant being.
“That’s not vanishing,” Kian said. “That’s getting arrested.”
“Captured, more like,” Aggy said, and looked back at her book. Aggy couldn’t abide inaccuracy.
“This dog vanished,” Logan said. “Poof.”
“How do you know its owner didn’t just leave with it?” Thatcher asked, shaking his head. This caused his long, sandy-colored hair to fall back into his face. He tossed it away. “How do you know it didn’t just get loose and run away?”
“Oh, maybe because the collar and leash were still there,” Logan answered.
“They were?” Thatcher asked, with a little gasp.
“The collar was lying on the sidewalk, still buckled, and still connected to the leash, and the leash was still tied to the
STOP
sign,” Logan said.
Thatcher stared off into space, his eyelids sliding down to half mast, contemplating this.
“I was standing there, waiting for the bus,” Logan said, “and this dog was sitting there, whining for his owner.
Unnnh, unnnh, unnnh …
”
“Whose dog was it?” Thatcher asked. “Wasn’t he there? Did anyone else see what happened?”
“I don’t know, but let me finish, will you? So the dog’s whining outside Sandwiches—
unnnh, unnnh, unnnh—
and this guy walks up, pets it for a minute, gives it a dog treat, then goes into the store. The dog stopped whining when the guy was petting him, but started whining again when the guy left.
Unnnh, unnnh—
”
“Enough with the whining, Logan,” Aggy said.
“Who was the guy?” Thatcher asked. “Did you know him? What did he look like?”
Thatcher often asked questions in clusters.
“Let me finish, will you?” Logan said, glaring.
“Sorry,” Thatcher said. Hair flip. “Go on. Sorry.”
“So the bus pulls up, right? I get on and find a seat, then look out the window, and poof!—the dog’s gone. All that’s left is the collar and the leash. Okay?” He shook his head impatiently.
“You think the guy came out and took it?” asked Thatcher.
“I doubt he came out of the store, undid the dog’s collar, rebuckled the collar, and then ran off with the dog that fast,” Logan said.
“What about someone else then?” Thatcher asked.
“I didn’t see anyone else.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Kian said. “You were at Sandwiches, and there’s never anyone going in and out of Sandwiches.”
This was more sarcasm. Sandwiches was a busy neighborhood grocery and deli. Kian delighted in saying the opposite of what he meant.
“Even if it wasn’t that guy,” Thatcher said, “
some
body took the dog. The owner wouldn’t leave his dog’s collar and leash behind.”
“Maybe she couldn’t untie her own knot,” Aggy said, her eyes still trained on the pages of her book. Aggy had fine, cornsilk hair she usually wore braided and bound at the back of her head. Wispy bangs reached down to her dark eyebrows, which often telegraphed her emotions. In this case, her brows twisted in bored exasperation.
“Listen,” Logan said, growing more frustrated by the moment. “The owner couldn’t have come out and tried to untie the leash from the bike rack, then unbuckled the collar and rebuckled it and taken the dog away, all in the time it took me to get on the bus and sit down and look out the window. No way. It happened too fast. I saw the dog tied to the rack when I got on the bus, and then when I sat down, it was gone. Poof. Vanished.”
“Can you stop saying ‘poof’?” Aggy asked. “It’s kind of driving me nuts.”
“I say somebody kidnapped the dog,” Thatcher said. “Right?”
“You mean ‘dognapped,’” Aggy said.
“Dognapped all right,” Logan said. “But not by a person.”
“Huh?” Thatcher asked. “Not by a person? What does that mean? You don’t think it was a human being that napped the dog?”
“Nope.”
Aggy looked up. “You think it was an alien, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
Everyone groaned.
“It must have been,” Logan said. “What else could make a dog vanish? There’s no other explanation.”
“No other explanation,” Kian said.
“Aliens are always your explanation,” Thatcher said.
“I’m telling you, an alien beamed that dog right out of his collar,” Logan said.
“Why would an alien steal a dog?” Aggy asked.
“Maybe he loves dogs,” Thatcher said. “I do.”
“I bet he loves them all right,” Logan said. “I bet he loves them for breakfast.”
“That’s just gross,” Aggy said.
“You guys are discussing your group project, right?” asked Nathan, their teacher, coming over.
Aggy closed her book.
“Group project?” Thatcher asked, tossing his hair. “Do we have to do a group project? I don’t remember you telling us about a group project.”
Kian elbowed him. “Sure, Nathan. That’s exactly what we’re discussing. We’re discussing our group project.”
“So what’s it going to be?” Nathan asked, scratching his untrimmed black beard. “A skit? A model? A game?”
Simultaneously, Kian said, “Skit,” Thatcher said, “Game,” and Aggy said, “Model.”
Nathan smiled. “Sounds like you have more discussing to do. That’s fine, but don’t waste time. It’s time to produce.” He raised his arm, pointed at the ceiling, and repeated in a deep, theatrical voice, “Produce!”
“Nathan,” Logan said, “you believe in alien abduction, don’t you?”
“I don’t know, Logan,” Nathan said, bringing his hand down and resting it on the back of Logan’s chair. “I suppose none of us know.”
“I do,” Logan said. “I saw one today.”
“All right, Logan,” Nathan said. “But for now let’s focus on your astronomy project, okay?”
“That’s kind of hard, Nathan,” Logan said, “considering what I saw today.”
“Well, please try,” Nathan said, and walked away.