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she said. “How about if I call you Dickens?”
    â€œHow about if she calls me a cab?” Chester muttered. “I want outta here.”
    Glancing at the fence, I thought, Not much chance of anybody getting out of this place.
    â€œDaisy,” I heard Jill say then, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to put Howie down for now.”
    â€œAw, do I have to?”
    â€œâ€™Fraid so. We really need to finish getting the bungalows ready for these guys.”
    Daisy nuzzled Howie’s nose. “Goodbye, Dickens,” she said. “Hug ya later, okay?”
    She put Howie gently back on the ground and the two girls walked away. Howie couldn’t take his eyes off Daisy. “She’s cute,” he said with a sigh. “Gee, Uncle Harold, is this what they call puppy love?”
    Before I could answer, Chester shook his head and started to walk away. “Dogs,” he muttered.
    As if on cue, two dogs poked their heads out from behind one of the far bungalows. “Hallo!” shouted the smaller one. “I’m Linda!”
    â€œAnd I’m Bob!” shouted the other. “Care to join us for a little barbecue?”
    BARBECUE-FLAVORED dog biscuits sat propped against the back of what we came to realize was Bob’s bungalow. Bob was a cocker spaniel in a Mets cap; his friend Linda was a West Highland white terrier bedecked in a knotted yellow bandanna.
    â€œDon’t you just love barbecue?” Linda asked. “Bob and I say we don’t know how we get through each winter without it.”
    â€œWell, but then there’s sushi,” said Bob.
    I nodded politely. I wasn’t aware of any raw fish-flavored dog biscuits on the market, but I kept my ignorance to myself.
    â€œThe kids insisted that we be allowed to keep our barbecue biscuits,” Linda went on. “That nasty Dr. Greenbriar didn’t want to let us. He said something silly about a balanced diet, but the kids told him that they were payingthe bill and they would decide what a balanced diet was.”
    â€œWhere’re you folks from?” Bob asked.
    â€œCenterville,” I told him.
    â€œOh, it’s so sweet there,” Linda said. “Quaint. Charming. We’re from Upper Centerville.” I could have guessed. “We have a pool. Of course, we have to be careful not to fall in, don’t we, Bob?” Bob nodded. “Do you have a pool?”
    â€œWe did,” Howie said, “until I bit it and the air came out.”
    Bob and Linda smiled politely as if Howie were just too quaint for words.
    â€œSo,” Chester said. It was his first word since we’d joined the two dogs. Well, not his first word exactly. He had said, “Not if my life depended on it,” when they’d asked him if he’d care for a barbecue-flavored dog biscuit. “So,” he repeated, “are we it? Is anybody else staying here?”
    Bob and Linda looked at each other, their brows furrowed.
    â€œLet me put it this way,” Bob said at last, “we’re the only normal ones.”
    â€œReally,” said Linda. “You won’t believe the riffraff. There are these two cats.” She looked at Chester and scrunched up her face as if her dog biscuit had stayed on the barbecue too long. “Trust me,” she said. “You don’t want to know them. And then there’s this character they call ‘The Weasel.’”
    â€œWhy’s that?” Chester asked.
    â€œI expect it’s because he’s a weasel,” said Bob. Turning to Linda, he said, “Don’t forget the parrot, hon.”
    â€œOh, that bird!” Linda said, fluttering her eyelashes. “Squawk, squawk, squawk, all day long. Thank heavens they cover it up at night. And then there’s this strange dog.”
    â€œSize of a horse,” said Bob. “And talk about moody. Sheesh. I told him he should lighten up, try deep breathing, get a