All the way back to the clearing, Hattie and June chatter about “yoon-ih-corns” again. It’s good to have my calm, happy Hattie back. That Marcus is nothing but trouble. No wonder she was so worried when he showed up.

When we get to our campsite, June and Lucky head across to join Waddling Lady, who’s pouring drinks from a thermos. Hattie waves after them. “See-ya,” she calls.

Hattie rushes to the wooden table, and I leap onto the bench, my nose going nuts. Sniff, sniff . . . pretzels. “I’ll take one of those!” I bark, reaching my nose toward them.

Hattie pulls me into her arms. “No-no-no!”

Food Lady and Muffin Lady are seated across from each other holding cards out like fans. They’re completely engrossed, like they’re watching for an evil squirrel to make its move.

Hattie stuffs a pretzel into her mouth. “Cah-new-trip,” she says to the tall humans.

“Mmm-hmm,” Food Lady says, picking up a card from the pile.

Just then, Angel comes sprinting over. Under her cap, her eyes and cheeks are grinning. The sun glitters on something metal that swings from a string around her neck.

“Whoa!” Hattie says, trying to grab it. I hear a rattling sound from inside the metal. It sounds familiar. “Cool-wiss-el!”

Angel laughs and swats Hattie’s hand away. “Safe-tee,” she says. She puts it up to her lips and blows. Tweet-tweeeeet!

Yow! I try to bury my head in Hattie’s shirt. Is that thing ever loud!

Food Lady must not mind the piercing noise. She says a whole bunch of words to Hattie in a warning voice. I hear “safe-tee” a few more times.

Hattie nods a lot and smiles at Angel. They slap hands.

Then Food Lady gets up from the table holding a can, and I turn my head. It’s the spray that makes me choke!

That’s my cue. I leap out of Hattie’s arms. As I land in the dirt, little clouds of dust swirl up around me.

I scamper a safe distance away. Hattie turns all the way around, Food Lady spraying her arms and legs and the back of her neck.

Ew! Even from here, that stench is horrible! It makes no sense that Food Lady coats Hattie in dog repellant before she goes outside after supper or here in the woods. Doesn’t she know that Hattie needs me to keep her safe? Between the wild animals and that troublemaker Marcus, I can’t let her out of my sight.

Muffin Lady fills the water bottles again while the short humans chatter excitedly. It sure seems like she and Angel are getting ready to go somewhere, and I’m getting a terrible feeling about it.

The feeling gets worse when at the next campsite over, I see Swirly-Arm Lady stuff Coco into Hot Dog Man’s backpack and call, “Bye!” to Marcus. As they head into the woods, Marcus grabs a water bottle and hurries toward us.

I stand my ground. “Oh, no, you don’t!” I bark as he rushes up. “If you think you’re going somewhere with Hattie, you’ll have to get through me!”

“Wah!” he cries, his eyes bulging for a moment before he bursts out laughing. He sidesteps me and charges up to Hattie and Angel. “Ready?” he asks.

“Ready!” Hattie and Angel say at the same time.

What? I knew something like this would happen. I scamper over and run circles around Marcus’s feet. Instead of sneakers, he’s wearing rubbery sandals. “Stay away from my short human,” I snarl.

“Fenway, stop!” Hattie scoops me up. She hands me to Fetch Man as he comes out of the tent.

I wiggle and kick. “Let me go!” I bark, but Fetch Man tightens his grip.

“Have fun!” Food Lady calls as the short humans head away from the clearing.

“Are you nuts?” I bark, squirming in Fetch Man’s arms. “That guy is trouble. And now Hattie doesn’t have her protector!”

I keep up the warnings and protests, but it’s no use. Fetch Man clips on my leash and ties me to the table leg. This is the Worst Thing Ever! Hattie is gone, and I’m stuck here with the tall humans. Trapped and doing nothing. I can’t even use the opportunity to sniff for clues about the stolen food.

I sink down on my belly and moan. My gaze drifts across the campsite. June emerges from the pointy tent, her long braid dangling over her shoulder. Her book under her arm, she strides up to our campsite.

Food Lady looks up. “Hey, June,” she says, smiling.

June looks puzzled. I hear her ask something about Hattie.

“Oh,” Food Lady says, her expression falling. “Cah-new-trip.”

Now June’s face is the one that falls. “Oh.” Her tone is sad. So is her scent. Is she just as disappointed as I am that Hattie left?

June rushes back and disappears inside her tent like she’s being chased. Lucky and Hammock Man bound out seconds later. Hammock Man has that bandanna around his head again. He grabs Lucky’s leash, and they take off into the woods the way they did the other day.

Well, this stinks. Hattie’s in a dangerous situation without her loyal dog to watch out for her. Marcus is probably going to jump out of a tree again and scare her. Or chant her name and make her feel worried. Maybe I haven’t spotted the wild animals, but I sure can spot Marcus. He’s just as much of a threat to my short human!

Food Lady walks around the table, and I spring into action. “Please!” I bark, leaping and twirling. “We have to find Hattie. Before it’s too late!”

“FEN-way,” she snaps.

My tail droops. But then Fetch Man appears and takes the leash. “Wanna go for a walk?” he says.

“Haven’t you been listening?” I bark, jumping on his legs. “Yes, I want to go for a walk!”

Right then, the ladies saunter up with Tool Man and Muffin Lady. My ears shoot up. Whoopee! Do they have the same idea?

“Calm down, Fenway,” Goldie says as we start to head out of the clearing. “You’re acting like you’ve never gone on a walk before.”

“Who could blame him?” Patches says in her gentle voice. “The pond is awfully exciting.”

I give my head a shake. “Did you say we’re going to the pond?” My mind fills with images of picnics with Nana and games of fetch in the grass. Under other circumstances, those are a lot of fun. But right now, all I care about is finding Hattie. Is she at the pond?

Birds chirp overhead as we make our way down the dirt road. “The pond is where the canoes are,” Patches explains as we walk around a pile of acorns. “Our precious Angel loves floating on the water. Last year, she paddled around the pond for most of one afternoon!”

My fur tingles. Is Hattie in the water? A twig snaps under my brown paw. Suddenly, I remember something. “So, ladies! I’ve got a theory about Lucky.”

Goldie cocks her head. “What is it?”

“At the Dog Park,” I say, practically hopping on the pine needles as the words fly out of my mouth. “He ate a stick!”

The ladies exchange glances. Patches looks away first. “So?”

It figures the ladies are slow to catch on. They don’t put clues together the way I do. They are not professionals.

“I know you don’t think Lucky stole those yucky treats, but if he likes eating sticks, he’d probably eat anything.”

“Look, we’re here!” Goldie announces as we arrive at the field. Up ahead, I see a pond with a little house beside it. Way off to one side, I can just make out the Dog Park.

“Fenway, wait until you see this,” Patches says. We head through the soft grass to the edge of the water.

My tail starts to wag hopefully when the tall humans mention Hattie and Angel. Apparently, they want to find them, too. Thank goodness they listened to me!

I pull to a stop in the wet sand before tiny waves can lap onto my paws. My head swivels. “Where’s Hattie?”

Patches points her snout toward the water. “Out there,” she says. “See those canoes?”

I stretch as far as I can on the leash, squinting. A bunch of boats—canoes?—are out on the pond. Is Hattie in one of them?

“Listen,” Goldie says.

Come to think of it, my ears are picking up a lot of whooping and hollering. I do hear Hattie’s voice. Angel’s, too. Are they nearby?

“There!” Fetch Man says, pointing.

Food Lady shields her eyes. Muffin Lady and Tool Man do, too. “Hattie!” Food Lady calls, hopping on her toes and waving.

Muffin Lady does the same, only she cries, “Angel!”

I stand taller, my tail wagging with excitement. Because on the canoe closest to us, two short humans are waving back. It’s Hattie and Angel!

Whew. My Hattie looks cheerful. And not in any danger at all.

“Our Angel is in her happy place,” Patches says proudly. “She loves canoeing.”

I keep my eyes on my short human as she and Angel float on the water in their puffy vests. They each hold some sort of stick that pokes into the water. It all looks perfectly safe and harmless. The other boats are not anywhere near them.

We gaze out on the water for a while, the tall humans chattering away. Until I notice another canoe gaining speed. My fur starts to prickle. Am I imagining things? Or is that other boat heading for Hattie and Angel?

I watch for a few moments to make sure. Then my hackles shoot up. In the other canoe, two short humans wear pointy, papery hats that flutter in the breeze. As they get closer to Hattie and Angel, I can hear them growling. “AARGH!” they cry, raising their sticks out of the water.

The girls must be scared the boat is going to ram into them because Angel’s hand flies to her mouth. Hattie lets out a shriek. Oh no! They’re scared and in trouble!

I lunge out as far as I can, my paws splashing in the water. “Hang on, Hattie!” I bark. “I’ll save you!”

“FEN-way!” Fetch Man scolds, tugging me back.

“AARGH!” a boy growls again. He dips the end of his stick in the water, then sweeps it up, water spraying on Hattie and Angel.

“Hey!” they scream, ducking their heads.

“Yo-ho-ho!” one of the boys yells. His voice sounds familiar. Marcus?

Uh-oh! I knew Hattie was in danger. I take a few steps back, then spring ahead with all my might. Splash! The leash pulls free from Fetch Man’s grip. At last!

I charge into the water. “Don’t worry, Hattie! I’m coming!”