Fizz didn’t want to waste a moment. He ran with Remi and Amadeus through the bougainvillea archway to the centre of Sunnyvale City Park. Fizz didn’t want to waste a moment. He ran with Remi and Amadeus through the bougainvillea archway to the centre of Sunnyvale City Park.
‘Wow!’ said Fizz, looking at the Grand Gazebo.
The Shrill Alarm Collar launch was a spectacular event. Stylish white tables covered the lawns and the gazebo was decorated with flags. There was a big banner that read: The Shrill Alarm Collar.
Because We Care.
Fizz’s heart raced as he walked the red carpet with Remi and Amadeus to the entry.
‘Wonderful, you’re here!’ said a woman with a clipboard. She had a nametag that said: Cynthia Sharp, Event Coordinator.
Cynthia flipped through the papers on her clipboard.
‘I have your portfolio photographs,’ she said, looking at Fizz, Remi and Amadeus. ‘But I seem to be missing your names.’
Fizz almost panicked. He’d forgotten all about an undercover name. His last undercover name, Angel, made him sound like a girl. This time, he was determined to choose something fiercer.
‘My name’s Brock,’ said Amadeus, flexing his muscles.
‘And I’m Veronica,’ said Remi, leaping into a scissor split.
‘And your name is…?’ asked Cynthia, waiting for an answer.
‘My name’s…Poncho,’ blurted Fizz.
‘Cute,’ said Cynthia, bending down and fluffing the fur on Fizz’s head.
Amadeus muffled a laugh.
Fizz couldn’t believe what he’d just said. Poncho! He shook out the frizz from his fur.
‘Right,’ said Cynthia, pointing across the lawn. ‘Your stylist is Tarquin, and he has your costumes ready. Wardrobe is located backstage, behind the Grand Gazebo. It’s the green tent with the fringed flap. The yellow marquee with the Shrill logo above the door is for Viktor Shrill. It’s strictly out of bounds.’
‘What does the logo look like?’ asked Fizz.
‘It’s a little bird called the Golden-throated Honeyeater,’ said Cynthia. ‘It’s so rare that it’s found only on the grounds of Viktor Shrill’s estate in Blue Haven. Viktor modelled the collar’s alarm on the bird’s shrieking call.’
‘It must be very loud,’ said Remi, flattening her ears.
‘It’s ear-splitting!’ said Cynthia. ‘Wait till we demonstrate the collar at the launch.’
‘I’ll collect you from your dressing rooms when it’s time for the show,’ she said. ‘And remember, no wandering about the park. I want your costumes in pristine condition for the catwalk.’
‘Costumes?’ whined Amadeus. ‘Mine better show off my physique!’
The dogs made their way past the Grand Gazebo to the wardrobe tent.
‘Fringed flap. I think this is it,’ said Fizz.
Inside were racks of dazzling costumes, hats and glitzy accessories. A slim man wearing a fancy vest and crimson pants met them with open arms.
‘Welcome! My name is Tarquin,’ he gushed, ‘and I’m your stylist today. Please take a dressing podium.’
He herded them across the marquee to three mint-green dressing boxes beside a costume rack.
‘Up you get. Up! Up! Up!’ he said, clapping his hands.
Fizz, Remi and Amadeus jumped onto a box and waited.
‘Relax, Powder Puff,’ said Amadeus. ‘All you have to do is fit in that handbag. Remi and I will be making the arrest with Sergeant Stern when you get kidnapped.’
Fizz took a calming breath.
‘I have a really fun look for each of you today,’ said Tarquin, taking two costumes from the rack. He put a glow-in-the-dark headband on Remi’s head and a matching anklet on each paw. Then he placed a pair of dark sunglasses over Amadeus’s eyes and a bandanna around his neck.
‘Cool,’ said Amadeus, checking himself out in the mirror.
Tarquin smiled at Fizz. ‘And I have a super-fun handbag for you!’ He took a dazzling gold-feathered handbag from the costume rack. ‘Voilà!’
Fizz’s eyes popped. The handbag was tiny! He put his front paws into the bag. He wriggled and squeezed and worked his back legs in, but no matter how he positioned himself, he was sticking out.
‘Oh dear!’ said Tarquin. ‘You are rather plus size for a handbag dog!’
Fizz looked up at Tarquin. If he was going to be kidnapped by the Handbag Dognapper, he had to fit in a handbag.
‘I’ll have to find you another costume,’ said Tarquin, rummaging through the racks.
Fizz didn’t want another costume, he wanted a handbag. Suddenly he had an idea.
‘Manbag!’ barked Fizz. ‘I’ll fit in a manbag. They’re the latest in handbag fashion for men.’
Tarquin’s face brightened.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Manbags are definitely in!’
He disappeared behind a stack of hats and boxes, then returned with a striped gym bag.
‘Let’s try this,’ he said, scooping Fizz’s fringe behind a sweatband and opening the gym bag.
Fizz jumped in. The manbag was much roomier.
‘Cute look, Powder Puff,’ said Amadeus.
Fizz didn’t care. He was in a handbag and wearing his tracker collar. All he needed now was the Handbag Dognapper.